"
I shook O'Brien's hand and made no answer--the boat was reported ready,
and the girl followed me with a firm step. I pulled on shore, saw her
safe in the coach without asking her any question, and then returned on
board.
"Come on board, sir," said I, entering the cabin with my hat in my hand,
and reporting myself according to the regulations of the service.
"Thank you," replied O'Brien: "shut the door, Peter. Tell me, how did
she behave? What did she say?"
"She never spoke, and I never asked her a question. She seemed to be
willing to do as you had arranged."
"Sit down, Peter. I never felt more unhappy, or more disgusted with
myself in all my life. I feel as if I never could be happy again. A
sailor's life mixes him up with the worst part of the female sex, and we
do not know the real value of the better. I little thought when I was
talking nonsense to that poor girl, that I was breaking one of the
kindest hearts in the world, and sacrificing the happiness of one who
would lay down her existence for me, Peter. Since you have been gone,
it's twenty times that I've looked in the glass just to see whether I
don't look like a villain. But, by the blood of St Patrick! I thought
woman's _love_ was just like our own, and that a three months' cruise
would set all to rights again."
"I thought she had gone over to France."
"So did I; but now she has told me all about it. Father M'Dermot[1] and
her mother brought her down to the coast near here to embark in a
smuggling boat for Dieppe.
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