--- .-- -- ..- -.-. …. -- --- -. . -.-- -.. .. -.. .--. .- -.. -.. -.-- …. .- …- . Ailish wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing leaving her injured father with Mrs. Murphy, but if she were going to find Dalton, she had to act fast. Pulling her paisley shawl over her head to ward off the chill, she ran through the pre-dawn darkness to the dock. She had to stop the low dog before he made it back to his ship.Rounding a tall stack of crates, she saw an early morning dockworker busily writing on a piece of paper. “Excuse me, sir,” she asked, her breathing laboured from her run. “Have ye seen a bloke called Rufus Dalton? My da sent me to give him a message.”“You’re too late, miss.” He nodded in the direction of the harbour.Ailish looked to the sea and there, silhouetted by the thin strip of pink dawn light, a small ship steamed out of the bay. She knew it would be the ferry to the huge cable-laying ship, docked far out in the bay because of its size.“Oh no, no, no!”
