And there
she sat as still as a mouse, hardly daring to breathe. And Mr. King,
feeling as if, after all, the case was pretty much under his
supervision, came softly in at intervals to see that all was well, and
that the dreadful boy was kept out.
And the passengers all drifted back to their steamer chairs, glad of
some new topic to discuss, for the gossip they had brought on board was
threadbare now, as they were two days at sea. And the steamer sailed
over the blue water that softly lapped the stout vessel's side,
careless of the battle that had been waged for a life, even then
holding by slender threads. And Fanny Vanderburgh, whose grandfather
was a contemporary in the old business days in New York with Mr. King,
and who sat with her mother at the next table to the King party, spent
most of her time running to Mrs. Pepper's state-room, or interviewing
any one who would be able to give her the slightest encouragement as to
when she could claim Polly Pepper.
"O dear me!" Fanny cried, on one such occasion, when she happened to
run across Jasper. "I've been down to No. 45 four times this morning,
and there's nobody there but that stupid Matilda, and she doesn't know
or won't tell when Polly will get through reading to that tiresome old
man. And they won't let me go to his state-room. Mrs. Fisher and your
father are there, too, or I'd get them to make Polly come out on deck.
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