"
"The Doctor?" queried Miss Marty, with a glance down the dark street.
"He thinks of everything," she murmured.
There was a pause, during which Mr. Tamblyn somewhat ostentatiously
tested the lock of his musket.
"You are not going to frighten me, Cai."
"No, miss."
"I--I think an expedition up the river would be very pleasant. If,
as you say, Miss Pescod has gone--"
"Yes, miss."
"I must bring Scipio."
"Very well, miss. If the French come, they _might_ think o' looking
under the stairs."
Twenty minutes later Miss Marty--escorted by Scipio, who bore a
lantern--tiptoed down the street to the Broad Slip, fearful even of
her own light footstep on the cobbles.
The Broad Slip--it has since been filled in--was in those days a sort
of dock, inset between the waterside houses and running up so close
to the street that the vessels it berthed were forced to take in
their bowsprits to allow the pack-horse traffic to pass. On its
south side a flight of granite steps led down to the water: and at
the foot of these (the tide being low) Cai Tamblyn waited with his
boat.
"I declare my heart's in my mouth," Miss Marty panted, as she took
her seat. Cai directed Scipio to sit amidships, pushed off in
silence, and taking the forward thwart, began to pull.
"Now there's a thing," he said after a few strokes with a jerk of his
head towards the dark longshore houses, "you don't often see nor hear
about outside o' the Bible; a deserted city.
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