Gebbie, some of us in cloaks, others mantled in the ship's
tarpaulins, all clinging on by ropes, and jesting the most like old
sailor-folk that we could imitate.
Presently a boat, that was backed like a partancrab, came gingerly
alongside, and the skipper of it hailed our master in the Dutch.
Thence Captain Sang turned, very troubled-like, to Catriona; and
the rest of us crowding about, the nature of the difficulty was
made plain to all. The Rose was bound to the port of Rotterdam,
whither the other passengers were in a great impatience to arrive,
in view of a conveyance due to leave that very evening in the
direction of the Upper Germany. This, with the present half-gale
of wind, the captain (if no time were lost) declared himself still
capable to save. Now James More had trysted in Helvoet with his
daughter, and the captain had engaged to call before the port and
place her (according to the custom) in a shore boat. There was the
boat, to be sure, and here was Catriona ready: but both our master
and the patroon of the boat scrupled at the risk, and the first was
in no humour to delay.
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