Didn't they learn you any poetry at school ?" Most happily I bethought me of Miss Plinlimmon's verses in my Testament--now alas! left in the Trapps' cottage and lost to me; and recited them as bravely as I could.
"Ah!" sighed Mrs.Pengelly, "there's many a true word spoken in jest.
'Where shall we be in ten years' time ?' Where indeed ?" "Here," her husband cheerfully suggested, with his mouth full.
"Hush, O.P.! You never buried a first." She demanded more, and I gave her Wolfe's last words before Quebec (signed by him in Miss Plinlimmon's Album).
"'They run!'-- but who?
'The Frenchmen!' Such Was the report conveyed to the dying hero.
'Thank Heaven!' he cried, 'I thought as much.' In Canada the glass is frequently below zero." On hearing the author's name and my description of Miss Plinlimmon, she fell into deep thought.
"I suppose, now, she'd look higher than Ben ?" I told her that, so far as I knew, Miss Plinlimmon had no desire to marry.
"She'd look higher, with her gifts, you may take my word for it." But a furrow lingered for some time on Mrs.Pengelly's brow, and (I think) a doubt in her mind that she had been too precipitate.
The meal over, she composed herself to slumber; and Mr.Pengelly and I spent the afternoon together on deck, where he smoked many pipes while I scanned the shore for signs of pursuit.

But no: the tide rose and still the foreshore remained deserted.

Above us the ferry plied lazily, and at whiles I could hear the voices of the passengers.

Nothing, even to my strained ears, spoke of excitement; and yet, in the great town beyond the hill, murder had been done and men were searching for me.

So the day dragged by.
Towards evening, as the vessel beneath us fleeted and the deck resumed its level, Mr.Pengelly began to uncover the mainsail.
I asked him if he expected any crew aboard?
For surely, thought I, he could not work this ketch of forty tons or so single-handed.
He shook his head.