now, there was not a whole finger left in one of the gloves—she had nibbled them off in her anxiety.

She attracted the attention of the hands discharging the cargo, and was the object, among themselves, of many humorous remarks.

"Waitin' for some one, missus?" at last one of the men inquired of her.

She was glad. She had been afraid to come forward and make inquiries. Now the spell was broken, she said:

"Yes. Have all the passengers landed?"

"There's one—or two—still aboard," the man answered, grimly.[Pg 70]

[Pg 70]

But the grimness was lost on the woman. She gave a sigh of relief. She had yet to learn that the passengers spoken of by the man had crossed the Stygian Ferry as well as the Atlantic.

"Mebbe one of 'em's the one I've come to meet."

"I hope not."

"Why?"

The man disregarded the question. Something had occurred to him. He inquired:

"What might be the name of the person you've come to meet?"

The woman hesitated a moment, and then answered:

"Depew."

The man suppressed a whistle of astonishment, and repeated the name:

"Depew!"

"Yes; George Depew. Was he aboard, do you know?"

"Wait here a moment, missus—don't go away. I'll go and inquire for you."

He disappeared in the ship. He went to the captain's cabin, and knocked at the door.

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