head until the captain said, "The wages is three pound ten."
Paul knew what pounds were. Miss Todd had one made into a brooch and called it her "Jubilee sovereign." And he was to receive three of them every month and ten shillings as well! Shillings were quarters. He would send jubilees to Phœbe and Gritty.
His mind went soaring, until he was on board the tow-boat, seated beside his beery shipmate.
"No dunnage?" inquired the captain.
Paul recalled an incident in Thaddeus of Warsaw. "Pawned everything I had," he explained. Instantly he saw the pitfall.
"Got the tickets?"
Surely he wasn't going to blunder at the last minute. Ah, he had it! "Gave 'em to a waitress for my last meal," he said.
The captain looked sceptical, but the engine bell had rung and the hawser came plump down in the stern. The wharf retreated and with the churn of the water all the discords of the past weeks suddenly ceased, giving place to a thrilling serenity. A hoarse scream from the whistle proclaimed the beginning of a new theme, a theme which he could play as he chose; and he knew, despite a hundred Miss Masons, that his method would prove to be the right one.
Far above the blackened buildings rose a brown, grassy hill, crowned by the citadel from whose ramparts he had, only a few days since, looked down with a vague yearning at this very harbour, at the high masts and broad yards of the very ship towards which he was now being propelled. Quel miracle!
In his pocket there was a pencil and a school notebook. He could get an envelope from the captain of the tug, give him two cents for a stamp, and ask him to post the letter on his return to port.
