She was dressed in some brown fabric, and wore a thick veil over her face; but as she climbed in I saw that she had yellow hair and bright eyes and lips; and that she was trembling so that her hands shook as she took hold of the wagon-bow, and her voice quivered as she thanked me, in low tones.

The man with the black beard pressed her hand as he left her.

He offered me a dollar for her passage; but I called his attention to the fact that it would cost only two shillings more for me to cross with her than if I went alone, and refused to take more.
"There are a good many rough fellows," said he, "at these ferries, that make it unpleasant for a lady, sometimes--" "Not when she's with me," I said.
He looked at me sharply, as if surprised that I was not so green as I looked--though I was pretty verdant.

Anyhow, he said, if I should be asked if any one was with me, it would save her from being scared if I would say that I was alone--she was the most timid woman in the world.
"I'll have to tell the ferryman," I said.
"Will you ?" he asked.

"Why ?" "I'd be cheating him if I didn't," I answered.
"All right," he said, as if provoked at me, "but don't tell any one else." "I ain't very good at lying," I replied.
He said for me to do the best I could for the lady, and hurried off.