Presently the vessel touched the wharf, and the travellers began to move towards the gangway.

He watched them, one by one, breathlessly.

At the very last, Mr.Nowell stepped quickly forward, with a veiled figure on his arm.
She was closely veiled, her face quite hidden by thick black lace, and she was clinging with something of a frightened air to her companion's arm.
John Saltram sprang up from his post of observation, and confronted the two before they could leave the vessel.
"Marian," he said, in slow decided tone, "let go that man's arm.

You will leave this vessel with me, and with no one else." "Stand out of the way, fellow," cried Percival Nowell; "my daughter can have nothing to say to you." "Marian, for God's sake, obey me! There is the vilest treachery in this man's conduct.

Let go his arm.