Tom rapidly ran over his reasons for attempting to escape, and you may be sure Polly agreed and sympathized with him in everything.
"What a shame," she exclaimed, "to keep you on board, when even the boys get as much leave as they choose to ask for!"
"Never mind, my dear," he replied. "I'll not ask 'em for leave this day week, if all goes well."
Polly left the ship in good spirits, and was gallantly escorted to the dock-gates by the kind-hearted A. B., who said to her on parting,
"Mum, if ever Tom wants a friend, I'll do my best for him, for the sake of his wife. You see, mum, I'm not a married man myself, but I can feel for them as is."
"God bless you, sir, for your kindness," sobbed Polly.
"Jerry, mum, not _sir_; we ain't allowed that rate in a man-o'-war."
Polly laughed through her tears, and nodding to the sailor, passed quickly through the turnstile, and was soon out of sight.
Before the week was over she had made all the arrangements for her husband's flight; having smuggled off a complete suit of well-worn smith's clothes, and paid the men from whom she obtained them a sum of money to assist Tom in getting through the gate.
As we have described, Clare played his part well, and passed the detectives without the slightest suspicion on their part that a deserter had escaped before their eyes.
On leaving the men who had assisted him, Clare turned to the left, keeping with the crowd as much as possible. All along the foot of the wall were crouched anxious wives and children, waiting with "father's dinner," in order to save him a long walk. Many of these watchers peered into his face, and some of the little ones would clap their hands and cry, "Here's daddy!"
Tom walked on for a few moments, hardly able to realize he was free, when suddenly Polly, who had followed him from the dock-gate, caught him by the arm.
"For heaven's sake, Polly, don't draw notice on me; walk on ahead, dear, I'll follow you; but don't look behind you, unless you would have me took."
Poor Tom! The loving taunt of that speech was understood by his wife. She have him taken! Why, he knew the poor girl would die for him.
Away she walked, quite in a different direction from that of her old lodgings; up one street and down another, until they were fairly out in the country, she praying all the time that her love might never be retaken, and thanking God her husband was now free. The footfall behind her was delightful music; while he, devouring her with his eyes, and longing once more to clasp her to his heart, thanked heaven in his own rough sailor style.