In mid-stream the old man stayed his hands upon the oars, and as the water rushed past them, remarked that once he had taken many passengers across, where now he took scarcely any.

He seemed to recall an age when his boat, moored among rushes, carried delicate feet across to lawns at Rotherhithe.
"They want bridges now," he said, indicating the monstrous outline of the Tower Bridge.

Mournfully Helen regarded him, who was putting water between her and her children.

Mournfully she gazed at the ship they were approaching; anchored in the middle of the stream they could dimly read her name--_Euphrosyne_.
Very dimly in the falling dusk they could see the lines of the rigging, the masts and the dark flag which the breeze blew out squarely behind.
As the little boat sidled up to the steamer, and the old man shipped his oars, he remarked once more pointing above, that ships all the world over flew that flag the day they sailed.

In the minds of both the passengers the blue flag appeared a sinister token, and this the moment for presentiments, but nevertheless they rose, gathered their things together, and climbed on deck.
Down in the saloon of her father's ship, Miss Rachel Vinrace, aged twenty-four, stood waiting her uncle and aunt nervously.