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Page 30
"Sometimes," replied the ferryman; "and I don't trust everybody. I go a
good deal by people's faces."
It did not seem to Rosamond that this remark required an answer, so she
sat silent, while his vigorous strokes sent the little boat swiftly
across the river, when he beached it, and, giving her his hand, helped
her to spring to dry ground. Then she said,--
"That's where I'm going,--that white house across the first street; and
I shall only be a few minutes."
"Don't hurry," he said, as she turned away. "I've nothing more to do
this evening after I take you back."
He really did forget for the moment the "other two" and the concert.
The blissful meditation which enwrapped him made the fifteen minutes of
her absence seem as five. She came down the bank, blushing and smiling.
"'And, oh, she looked sweet!'" mentally ejaculated the ferryman.
"Did I keep you long?" she said, as he helped her in. "I hurried as much
as I could. And if you, or the old man, will be here to-morrow at
half-past four, I should like to cross again: it saves me such a long
walk. And I'll be _sure_ to bring the money."
"You didn't keep me--that is, waiting--at all," he answered dreamily;
"and I'll be here at half-past four, sharp, to-morrow. You may depend on
me."
"Very well," she said contentedly, as she settled herself among the
cushions, which in her absence he had arranged for her greater comfort,
adding, "What a very nice boat you have! I don't see how you keep it so
neat and fresh, taking so many people across, and being out, as I
suppose you must be, in all sorts of weather."
"It's a new boat," he said hurriedly, "and you're my first passenger.
Would you mind telling me your name?--your first name I mean, of
course?"--for the horrible idea occurred to him that she might think he
was anxious about his fare. "I haven't named her yet, and I thought,
perhaps, _as_ you're my first fare, you'd let me name her after
you,--for luck, you know."
"Is that considered lucky?" she asked innocently, "If it is, of course
you may. My name is Rosamond; but it seems to me that's rather long for
a boat. Suppose you call her the Rose. Papa--my father, I mean--used to
call me that oftener than Rosamond, and--one or two other people do
yet."
"I don't think Rosamond would be too long," he said thoughtfully, "but
it shall be as you wish, of course. I will have 'Rose' painted on the
stern, and I can call her Rosamond to myself. May I have one of your
roses, just to--to remember it by, till I can see the painter?"
"Why, yes, I suppose so." And she unfastened one of the two at her
throat, and handed it to him.
He placed it carefully in his pocket-book, which, as she observed with
some surprise, was of the finest Russia leather. Ferrying must be
profitable work, to provide the ferryman with such boats and
pocket-books.
There was a brief silence, and then she said, "You were singing as I
came down the bank. Would you mind singing again? It sounds so pretty on
the water."
He made no answer in words, but presently his voice arose, softly at
first, and then with passionate fervor, and this time his song was,
"Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast!"
"Thank you; that was beautiful," said Rosamond calmly, as he finished
and the boat grazed the bank at one and the same moment. "What a good
voice you have! And you must have taken lessons, to sing so correctly:
haven't you?"
"Yes,--a few," he answered, springing from the boat and drawing it up on
the bank. She rose to follow him, but stopped short, with a little
exclamation of dismay.
"Why, this isn't where we ought to have landed!" she exclaimed. "It's a
place a mile farther down the river."
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