The Doctor by Ralph Connor — Read

Mrs. Duff Charrington at close range was not nearly so formidable as when seen at a distance. The huge bulk of her, the pronouncedly masculine dress and manner, the loud voice, the red face with its dark mustache line on the upper lip, all of which at a distance were calculated to overawe if not to strike terror to the heart of the beholder, were very considerably softened by the shrewd, kindly twinkle of the keen grey eyes which a nearer view revealed. Her welcome of Iola was bluff and hearty, but she was much too busy ordering her forces and disposing of her impedimenta, for she was her own commodore, to pay particular attention in the meantime to her guests. The wharf at which the Petrel was tied was crowded this Saturday afternoon with various parties of excursionists making for the steamers, ferries, yachts, and other craft that lay along the water front. Already the Petrel had hoisted her mainsail and, under the gentle breeze, was straining upon her shore lines awaiting the word to cast off. As Iola stood idly gazing at the shifting scene, wondering how Dick had succeeded on his mission to his brother, she observed Dr. Bulling approaching with his usual smiling assurance. Just as he was about to speak, however, she noticed him start and gaze fixedly toward the farther side of the wharf. Iola's eye, following his gaze, fell upon the figure of a man pushing his way through the crowd. It was Barney. She saw him pause, evidently to make inquiry of a dockhand. With a muttered oath, Bulling sprang to the aft line.

"Let go that line, Murdoff! " he shouted to the man at the bow. "Look lively, there!"