something about this boat,
said, 'Smugglers.' But with an impartial remembrance of there being two
sides to every question, he added, 'or Preventive.'

'A boat with a sail,' repeated Paul, 'in the full light of the moon. The
sail like an arm, all silver. It went away into the distance, and what
do you think it seemed to do as it moved with the waves?'

'Pitch,' said Mr Toots.

'It seemed to beckon,' said the child, 'to beckon me to come!--There she
is! There she is!'

Toots was almost beside himself with dismay at this sudden exclamation,
after what had gone before, and cried 'Who?'

'My sister Florence!' cried Paul, 'looking up here, and waving her hand.
She sees me--she sees me! Good-night, dear, good-night, good-night.'

His quick transition to a state of unbounded pleasure, as he stood at
his window, kissing and clapping his hands: and the way in which the
light retreated from his features as she passed out of his view, and
left a patient melancholy on the little face: were too remarkable wholly
to escape even Toots's notice. Their interview being interrupted at this
moment by a visit from Mrs Pipchin, who usually brought her black skirts
to bear upon Paul just before dusk, once or twice a week, Toots had
no opportunity of improving the occasion: but it left so marked an
impression on his mind that he twice returned, after having exchanged
the usual salutations, to ask Mrs Pipchin how she did. This the
irascible old lady conceived to be a deeply devised and long-meditated
insult, originating in the diabolical invention of the weak-eyed young
man downstairs, against whom she accordingly lodged a formal complaint
with Doctor Blimber that very night; who mentioned to the young man that
if he ever did it again, he should be obliged to part with him.

The evenings being longer now, Paul stole up to his window every evening
to look out for Florence. She always passed and repassed at a certain
time, until she saw him; and their mutual recognition was a gleam of
sunshine in Paul's daily life. Often after dark, one other figure walked
alone before the Doctor's house. He rarely joined them on the Saturdays
now. He could not bear it. He would rather come unrecognised, and look
up at the windows where his son was qualifying for a man; and wait, and
watch, and plan, and hope.

Oh! could he but have seen, or seen as others did, the slight spare boy
above, watching the waves and clouds at twilight, with his earnest eyes,