A large eight-oared barge was at the stairs at the bottom of the street
to convey them, and as they all walked to it arm-in-arm, and in couples,
everybody who met them would have it that it was a wedding, and many
jocular remarks were made to them by the way. "Upon my word," said Sir Richard, "I shall be considered a match-maker,
and folks will say that I keep this office of my own only as a
matrimonial speculation." "You certainly," said the colonel, "have been the cause of two or three
matches, at all events, for, but for you, I doubt if any of us would
have felt as we feel to day, Sir Richard." "He has restored Mark Ingestrie to me," said Johanna. "And my Johanna to me," said Ingestrie. "And my dear Minna to me," cried Tobias. "Stop--stop!" cried Sir Richard. "And I am quite certain," said the colonel, "that I owe to him the joy
of calling Arabella mine." Sir Richard Blunt came now to a halt, as he said--

"Stop, all of you, or I will not go one step further. If we get into
this kind of talk, who is to say where it will end? Let us enjoy
ourselves, and make it a rule to say anything but revert to the past. It
has its joys and its sorrows, but it had better upon this occasion be
left to itself." "Agreed--agreed," said everybody. The barge was a very handsome one. Indeed Sir Richard Blunt had borrowed
it of one of the city companies for the occasion, and beneath the gay
awning they could all sit with perfect ease. And now in the course of another five minutes they were going down the
river, quite at a slashing pace, towards the old Tower; and as they were
animated by the many pleasing sights upon the river, their conversation
soon became animated and spirited. "What is that?--A wherry coming towards us from the Temple-stairs," said
the colonel. All eyes were bent upon the wherry, which shot out from the little
landing-place by the side of the Temple Gardens, and presently they,
with one accord, cried out--

"It's Hector!" In truth Hector was there, but with him was the colonel's new groom, the
late ostler, who had been so efficient a protector to the dog, and the
captain of the ship, whom he knew so well. "Barge a-hoi!" cried the captain. "Ay--ay!" shouted Ingestrie in reply, and the wherry shot alongside the
barge. "Well," said the captain, "I do think for you all to go on such a party
as this, and not ask me and Hector, is too bad." "But," said Sir Richard Blunt, "you told me you were going to be very
busy at the docks." "So I did, but I found our owner had not come to town, and I have
nothing to do to-day. I called at your house, colonel, hoping to be in
time to come with you, but you had gone. Hector, however, saw me, and
made such a racket I was forced to bring him." "And no one can be more glad to see you and Hector than I," cried the
colonel. "And I didn't like, sir," said the ostler, "not for to come for to go,
when Pison said as he'd like to come." "Very good," said the colonel smiling. "Come on board." The waterman who was with the wherry laid it alongside the barge, and
having been liberally paid for his freight, rowed off again, leaving
with the barge party, his two customers and the dog. The Tower was soon in sight, for at that time there were not by any
means so many obstructions to the navigation of the River Thames as are
to be found now, and the stream too was very much clearer than now it
can boast of being. The host of manufactories that have since risen upon
its banks were not then thought of. "I do think," said Colonel Jeffery, "that I can see our friend Ben at
the landing place. Look, Mr. Oakley, is that not Ben?" "Bless you, sir," said Mr. Oakley, "I couldn't see so far if you would
make me king of England for doing so. Johanna, my love, you have young
eyes, and know Ben well." "Yes, pa, it is Ben, and he is waving his hand to us, and looks so
pleased." "He is a most worthy honest fellow," said Sir Richard Blunt. "I like him
very much, from what little I have seen of him. He has the simplicity of
a child." "Yes," added the colonel, "and the candour and honesty of a lover of
human nature. I believe a better heart than Ben's never beat in human
bosom." "I am quite sure of it," said Johanna. "I love Ben very much indeed. He
has been ever a kind and indulgent friend to me." "Do you hear that, Mr. Ingestrie?" said Arabella. "Yes," laughed Mark, "but I decline investing Ben with any of the
attributes of a rival. Now, I love you, Miss Wilmot very much indeed,
because you have always been such a dear kind friend to Johanna; and I
daresay the colonel will permit me to do so." "To be sure I will--at a distance," said the colonel. Everybody laughed at this, and then, as the rowers increased their
exertions to come in to the Tower stairs with some eclat, the barge soon
was safely moored at the landing place. "Here you are all of you," cried Ben, capering in his huge delight. "Here you all are. Come along. Oh, how hungry I am." "That sounds as if you meant to eat us, Ben," said Sir Richard, as he
stepped from the barge. "Oh, dear no. Only I have got a little bit of lunch ready for you all,
and as I helped to place it on the table it made me so hungry that I've
been half mad ever since, and I'm as thirsty too as can be. Oh, Mr.
Jeffery, I often think if the Thames were only strong ale, what a place
the Tower would be." "You may depend," said Sir Richard, "if it were, the government would
pretty soon bottle it all off." Johanna was going to step on shore, but Ben made a dash at her, and
lifting her up as you would some little child, he seated her on his left
arm, and so fairly carried her into the Tower. "You wait, Miss Arabella," he cried. "I'll come for you." This so alarmed Miss Wilmot that she sprang on shore in a moment, and
all the party laughed heartily to see Mark Ingestrie flying along after
Ben, and shouting as he went--

"Put her down--put her down! Ben!--Ben! She'd rather walk. Put her
down!" Ben paid no manner of attention to any of these remonstrances, but
carried Johanna right into the Tower before he set her upon her feet
again, which he then did as tenderly as though she had been some infant,
only just learning to walk. "Mind how you go," he said. "Take it easy. Easy does it." "But I can walk, Ben." "Very good. Mind how you does, you nice little thing. Oh, I likes you a
great deal better in the petticoats and not the breeches." "Well, Ben," said Mark Ingestrie, "I am certainly very much obliged to
you--very much, indeed." "Don't mention it, my boy," replied Ben, totally oblivious of the manner
in which Mark Ingestrie uttered the words--a manner which betrayed some
little pique upon the occasion. The laughter of Johanna and his friends,
however, soon chased away the temporary cloud. "Where's the t'other little one?" said Ben. "I am here," cried Arabella, laughing. "Oh, you got on without me, did you? Very good: only if you had only
waited, I shouldn't have thought it no trouble at all, whatsomedever. Easy does it, you know." "Thank you, Ben.