Men who looked like ghosts moved in the gloom and indistinct cattle came up a railed plank.
Barbara could not see where they came from; they plunged out of the dark, their horns glimmering in the beam of the lamps.
After a few moments Lister helped her down on the steamer's bridge-deck.
The boat listed away from the wall.

Her tall red funnel was inclined sharply, much of her side was above water, and muddy streams poured from the scuppers on the after deck, where men with long boots pulled a hose-pipe about.

The boat was horribly dirty, but her lean bows and the length of the iron engine-room casing indicated speed.
A man came along the bridge-deck, and Barbara thought the gold bands on his cap indicated the captain.

He stopped and when he glanced at Lister she blushed, for there was a hint of sympathetic understanding in her smile.
"We won't want you until high-water," he said and went off.
Barbara hoped Lister had not seen her blush and thought he had not.

He took her down some iron steps and to a door in a dark passage.
"Our mess-room," he said.