I took my cue from these last words, and understood that I was not even to bring the sloop alongside the wharf.

“Upon my word, it is just as she says, Colonel!” cried Rupert.  “I can see my father on the forecastle, with Post, and divers others of my acquaintance.  Ay—­and there’s Drewett, as I live!  Wallingford, too!  How fare you, noble captain, up in this fresh-water stream?  You must be strangely out of your latitude.”

“How do you do, Mr. Hardinge?” I coldly returned the salutation; and then I was obliged to speak to the Major and his daughter.  But Neb was at the helm, and I had given him a sign to sheer further from our companion.  This soon reduced the intercourse to a few wavings of handkerchiefs, and kissings of the hand, in which all the Drewetts came in for a share.  As for Lucy, she walked aside, and I seized the occasion to get a word in private.

“What am I to do with the sloop?” I asked.  “It will soon be necessary to come to some decision.”

“By no means go to the wharf.  Oh! this has been most cruel.  The cabin-windows are open, and Grace must have heard every syllable.  Not even a question as to her health!  I dread to go below and witness the effect.”

I wished not to speak of Rupert to his sister, and avoided the subject.  The question, therefore, was simply repeated.  Lucy inquired if it were not possible to land our passengers without bringing-up, and, hearing the truth on the subject, she renewed her entreaties not to land.  Room was taken accordingly, and the sloop, as soon as high enough, was rounded-to, and the boat lowered.  The portmanteau of Post was placed in it, and the Drewetts were told that everything was ready to put them ashore.

“Surely we are not to part thus!” exclaimed the old lady.  “You intend to land, Lucy, if not to accompany us to Ballston?  The waters might prove of service to Miss Wallingford.”

“Dr. Post thinks not, but advises us to return tranquilly down the river.  We may yet go as far as Sandy Hook, or even into the Sound.  It all depends on dear Grace’s strength and inclinations.”

Protestations of regret and disappointment followed, for everybody appeared to think much of Lucy, and very little of my poor sister.  Some attempts were even made at persuasion; but the quiet firmness of Lucy soon convinced her friends that she was not to be diverted from her purpose.  Mr. Hardinge, too, had a word to say in confirmation of his daughter’s decision; and the travellers reluctantly prepared to enter the boat.  After he had assisted his mother over the sloop’s side, Andrew Drewett turned to me, and in fair, gentleman-like, manly language, expressed his sense of the service I had rendered him.  After this acknowledgment, the first he had made, I could do no less than shake his hand; and we parted in the manner of those who have conferred and received a favour.