As they
turned it, the sun-burned sailor twice stopped his companion again, and
twice looked back.
"A friend of yours?" inquired Captain Wragge, joining Magdalen at that
moment.
"Certainly not," she replied; "a perfect stranger. He stared at me in
the most impertinent manner. Does he belong to this place?"
"I'll find out in a moment," said the compliant captain, joining the
group of boatmen, and putting his questions right and left, with the
easy familiarity which distinguished him. He returned in a few minutes
with a complete budget of information. The clergyman was well known as
the rector of a place situated some few miles inland. The dark man with
him was his wife's brother, commander of a ship in the merchant-service.
He was supposed to be staying with his relatives, as their guest for
a short time only, preparatory to sailing on another voyage. The
clergyman's name was Strickland, and the merchant-captain's name was
Kirke; and that was all the boatmen knew about either of them.
"It is of no consequence who they are," said Magdalen, carelessly. "The
man's rudeness merely annoyed me for the moment. Let us have done with
him. I have something else to think of, and so have you.
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