Two
of these made an impression on me. One was a handsome and
fashionably-dressed woman, who was followed by a maid or companion (as I
fancied), carrying parcels; the other, a shabbily-dressed man, who was
the last to come up from the tender. The woman was going down the
companion-way when he stepped on deck with a single bag in his hand, and
I noticed that he watched her with a strange look in his eyes. He stood
still as he gazed, and remained so for a moment after she had gone; then
he seemed to recover himself, and started, as I thought, almost guiltily,
when he saw that my attention was attracted. He nervously shifted his bag
from one hand to the other, and looked round as though not certain of
where he should go. A steward came to him officiously, and patronisingly
too,--which is the bearing of servants to shabbily-dressed people,--but
he shook his head, caught his bag smartly away from the steward's
fingers, and moved towards the after part of the ship, reserved for
intermediate passengers. As he went he hesitated, came to the side of the
vessel, looked down at the tender for a moment, cast his eyes to where
the anchor was being weighed, made as if he would go back to the tender,
then, seeing that the ladder was now drawn up, sighed, and passed on to
the second-class companion-way, through which he disappeared.
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