CHAPTER VIII.
POOR TOM BOWLING.
Master Archibald's advice to me--to escape down to the water-side and conceal myself on shipboard--though acute enough in its way, took no account of certain difficulties none the less real because a soldier would naturally overlook them.

To hide in a ship's hold you must first get on board of her unobserved, which in broad daylight is next to impossible.

Moreover, to reach Cattewater I must either fetch a circuit through purlieus where every householder knew me and every urchin was a nodding acquaintance, or make a straight dash close by the spot where by this time Mr.Trapp would be getting anxious--if indeed Southside Street and the Barbican were not already resounding with the hue and cry.

No: if friendly vessel were to receive and hide me, she lay far off, across the heart of the town, amid the shipping of the Dock.

Yonder, too, Miss Plinlimmon resided.
If you think it absurd that my thoughts turned to her, whose weak arms could certainly shield no one from the clutches of the law, I beg you to remember my age, and that I had never known another protector.