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hanging over it； 〃Mia…oo…oo…O…O！〃
〃First whistle；〃 said her father briefly； and at that moment they came in
sight of the Picton boat。 Lying beside the dark wharf； all strung； all
beaded with round golden lights； the Picton boat looked as if she was more
ready to sail among stars than out into the cold sea。 People pressed along
the gangway。 First went her grandma； then her father； then Fenella。
There was a high step down on to the deck； and an old sailor in a jersey
standing by gave her his dry； hard hand。 They were there； they stepped
out of the way of the hurrying people； and standing under a little iron
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stairway that led to the upper deck they began to say good…bye。
〃There； mother； there's your luggage！〃 said Fenella's father； giving
grandma another strapped…up sausage。
〃Thank you； Frank。〃
〃And you've got your cabin tickets safe？〃
〃Yes； dear。〃
〃And your other tickets？〃
Grandma felt for them inside her glove and showed him the tips。
〃That's right。〃
He sounded stern； but Fenella； eagerly watching him； saw that he
looked tired and sad。 〃Mia…oo…oo…O…O！〃 The second whistle blared
just above their heads； and a voice like a cry shouted； 〃Any more for the
gangway？〃
〃You'll give my love to father；〃 Fenella saw her father's lips say。 And
her grandma； very agitated； answered； 〃Of course I will； dear。 Go now。
You'll be left。 Go now； Frank。 Go now。〃
〃It's all right； mother。 I've got another three minutes。〃 To her
surprise Fenella saw her father take off his hat。 He clasped grandma in
his arms and pressed her to him。 〃God bless you； mother！〃 she heard him
say。
And grandma put her hand； with the black thread glove that was worn
through on her ring finger； against his cheek； and she sobbed； 〃God bless
you； my own brave son！〃
This was so awful that Fenella quickly turned her back on them；
swallowed once； twice； and frowned terribly at a little green star on a mast
head。 But she had to turn round again； her father was going。
〃Good…bye； Fenella。 Be a good girl。〃 His cold； wet moustache
brushed her cheek。 But Fenella caught hold of the lapels of his coat。
〃How long am I going to stay？〃 she whispered anxiously。 He
wouldn't look at her。 He shook her off gently； and gently said； 〃We'll see
about that。 Here！ Where's your hand？〃 He pressed something into
her palm。 〃Here's a shilling in case you should need it。〃
A shilling！ She must be going away for ever！ 〃Father！〃 cried
Fenella。 But he was gone。 He was the last off the ship。 The sailors
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put their shoulders to the gangway。 A huge coil of dark rope went flying
through the air and fell 〃thump〃 on the wharf。 A bell rang； a whistle
shrilled。 Silently the dark wharf began to slip； to slide； to edge away
from them。 Now there was a rush of water between。 Fenella strained to
see with all her might。 〃Was that father turning round？〃or waving？or
standing alone？or walking off by himself？ The strip of water grew
broader； darker。 Now the Picton boat began to swing round steady；
pointing out to sea。 It was no good looking any longer。 There was
nothing to be seen but a few lights； the face of the town clock hanging in
the air； and more lights； little patches of them； on the dark hills。
The freshening wind tugged at Fenella's skirts； she went back to her
grandma。 To her relief grandma seemed no longer sad。 She had put the
two sausages of luggage one on top of the other； and she was sitting on
them； her hands folded； her head a little on one side。 There was an intent；
bright look on her face。 Then Fenella saw that her lips were moving and
guessed that she was praying。 But the old woman gave her a bright nod
as if to say the prayer was nearly over。 She unclasped her hands； sighed；
clasped them again； bent forward； and at last gave herself a soft shake。
〃And now； child；〃 she said； fingering the bow of her bonnet…strings； 〃I
think we ought to see about our cabins。 Keep close to me； and mind you
don't slip。〃
〃Yes； grandma！〃
〃And be careful the umbrellas aren't caught in the stair rail。 I saw a
beautiful umbrella broken in half like that on my way over。〃
〃Yes； grandma。〃
Dark figures of men lounged against the rails。 In the glow of their
pipes a nose shone out； or the peak of a cap； or a pair of surprised…looking
eyebrows。 Fenella glanced up。 High in the air； a little figure； his hands
thrust in his short jacket pockets； stood staring out to sea。 The ship
rocked ever so little； and she thought the stars rocked too。 And now a
pale steward in a linen coat； holding a tray high in the palm of his hand；
stepped out of a lighted doorway and skimmed past them。 They went
through that doorway。 Carefully over the high brass…bound step on to the
rubber mat and then down such a terribly steep flight of stairs that
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grandma had to put both feet on each step； and Fenella clutched the
clammy brass rail and forgot all about the swan…necked umbrella。
At the bottom grandma stopped； Fenella was rather afraid she was
going to pray again。 But no； it was only to get out the cabin tickets。
They were in the saloon。 It was glaring bright and stifling； the air
smelled of paint and burnt chop…bones and indiarubber。 Fenella wished
her grandma would go on； but the old woman was not to be hurried。 An
immense basket of ham sandwiches caught her eye。 She went up to them
and touched the top one delicately with her finger。
〃How much are the sandwiches？〃 she asked。
〃Tuppence！〃 bawled a rude steward； slamming down a knife and fork。
Grandma cou