Michelle looked at Lucy knowingly. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. “You are neither of you in the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. This was to pass under the arch, along the narrow ledge of the starling, and, if possible, attain the eastern platform, where, protected by the bridge, he would suffer less from the excessive violence of the gale. ‘I have only borrowed it.
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