So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. There was a hint of tears in her voice.
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