‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. \"Lucy?\" He called her as she turned. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him.
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