"No," he said.
Josiah went up to the post-office late in the afternoon of the next day.
The "able seaman" was behaving himself remarkably well. He had become a real help to Captain Eri, and the latter said that sailing alone would be doubly hard when his foremast hand went back to school again, which he was to do very shortly, for Josiah meant to accept the Captain's offer, and to try for the Annapolis appointment when the time came.
The boy came back with the mail and an item of news. The mail, a paper only, he handed to Mrs. Snow, and the news he announced at the supper table as follows:
"Mr. Hazeltine's goin' to leave the cable station," he said.
"Goin' to leave!" repeated the housekeeper, "what for?"
"I don't know, ma'am. All I know is what I heard Mr. Wingate say. He said Mr. Hazeltine was goin' to get through over at the station pretty soon. He said one of the operators told him so."
"Well, for the land's sake! Did you know anything 'bout it, Eri?"
"Why, yes, a little. I met Hazeltine yesterday, and he told me that some folks out West had made him a pretty good offer, and he didn't know whether to take it or not. Said the salary was good, and the whole thing looked sort of temptin'. He hadn't decided what to do yit. That's all there is to it."
There was little else talked about during the meal. Captain Perez, Captain Jerry, and Mrs. Snow argued, surmised, and questioned Captain Eri, who said little. Elsie said almost nothing, and went to her room shortly after the dishes were washed.
"Humph!" exclaimed Captain Perez, when they were alone, "I guess your match-makin' scheme's up spout, Jerry."
And, for a wonder, Captain Jerry did not contradict him.
The weather changed that night, and it grew cold rapidly. In the morning the pump was frozen, and Captain Jerry and Mrs. Snow spent some time and much energy in thawing it out. It was later than usual when the former set out for the schoolhouse. As he was putting on his cap, Elsie suggested that he wait for her, as she had some lessons to prepare, and wanted an hour or so to herself at her desk. So they walked on together under a cloudy sky. The mud in the road was frozen into all sorts of fantastic shapes, and the little puddles had turned to ice.
"That thaw was a weather-breeder, sure enough," observed Captain Jerry.
"We'll git a storm out of this, 'fore we're done."
"It seems to me," said Elsie, "that the winter has been a very mild one.
From what I had heard I supposed you must have some dreadful gales here, but there has been none so far."
"We'll git 'em yit. February's jist the time. Git a good no'theaster goin', and you'll think the whole house is comin' down. Nothin' to what they used to have, though, 'cordin' to tell. Cap'n Jonadab Wixon used to swear that his grandfather told him 'bout a gale that blew the hair all off a dog, and then the wind changed of a sudden, and blew it all on again."
Elsie laughed. "That must have been a blow," she said.
"Yes. Cap'n Jonadab's somethin' of a blow himself, so he ought to be a good jedge. The outer beach is the place that catches it when there's a gale on. Oh, say! that reminds me. I s'pose you was glad to hear the news last night?"
"What news?"
"Why, that 'bout Mr. Hazeltine's goin' away. You're glad he's goin', of course."
Miss Preston did not answer immediately. Instead, she turned and looked wonderingly at her companion.
"Why should I be glad, pray?" she asked.
"Why, I don't know. I jest took it for granted you would be. You didn't want him to come and see you, and if he was gone he couldn't come, so--"
"Just a minute, please. What makes you think I didn't want Mr. Hazeltine to call?"
And now it was the Captain's turn to stare and hesitate.
"What makes me think--" he gasped. "Why--you told me so, yourself."
"_I_ told you so? I'm certain that I never told you anything of the kind."
Captain Jerry stood stock-still, and if ever a face expressed complete amazement, it was his.
"Elsie Preston!" he ejaculated, "are you losin' your mem'ry or what?
Didn't you pitch into me hot-foot for lettin' him be alone with you?
Didn't you give me 'hark from the tomb' for gittin' up and goin' away?
Didn't you say his calls was perfect torture to you, and that you had to be decent to him jest out of common politeness? Now, didn't you?"
"Oh, that was it! No, of course I didn't say any such thing."
"You DIDN'T! Why, I heard you! Land of love! my ears smarted for a week afterward. I ain't had sech a goin' over sence mother used to git at me for goin' in swimmin' on Sunday. And now you say you didn't say it."
"I didn't. You misunderstood me. I did object to your leaving the room every time he called, and making me appear so ridiculous; and I did say that his visits might be a torture for all that you knew to the contrary, but I certainly didn't say that they WERE."
"SUFFERIN'! And you ain't glad he stopped comin'?"
The air of complete indifference assumed by the young lady was a triumph.
"Why, of course," she said, "Mr. Hazeltine is a free agent, and I don't know of any reason why he should be compelled to go where he doesn't wish to go. I enjoyed his society, and I'm sure Captain Eri and Mrs.
Snow enjoyed it, too; but it is quite evident that he did not enjoy ours, so I don't see that there need be any more said on the subject."
Captain Jerry was completely crushed. If the gale described by the redoubtable grandsire of Jonadab Wixon had struck him, he could not have been more upset.
"My! my! my!" he murmured. "And after my beggin' his pardon and all!"
"Begging his pardon? For what?"
"Why, for leavin' you two alone. Of course, after you pitched into me so I see how foolish I'd been actin', and I--honest, I didn't sleep scursely a bit that night thinkin' 'bout it. Thinks I, 'If Elsie feels that way, why, there ain't no doubt that Mr. Hazeltine feels the same.'
There wa'n't but one thing to be done. When a man makes a mistake, if he is any kind of a man, he owns up, and does his best to straighten things out. 'Twa'n't easy to do, but duty's duty, and the next time I see Mr.
Hazeltine I told him the whole thing, and--"
"You DID!"
"Sartin I did."
"What did you tell him?"
They had stopped on the sidewalk nearly opposite the post-office. Each was too much engrossed in the conversation to pay any heed to anything else. If the few passersby thought it strange that the schoolmistress should care to loiter out of doors on that cold and disagreeable morning, they said nothing about it. One young man in particular, who, standing just inside the post-office door, was buttoning his overcoat and putting on his gloves, looked earnestly at the pair, but he, too, said nothing.
"Why, I told him," said Captain Jerry, in reply to the question, "how you didn't like to have me go out of the room when he was there. Course, I told him I didn't mean to do nothin' out of the way. Then he asked me some more questions, and I answered 'em best I could, and--well, I guess that's 'bout all."
"Did you tell him that I said his visits were a torture?"
"Why--" the Captain shuffled his feet uneasily--"seems to me I said somethin' 'bout it--not jest that, you know, but somethin'. Fact is, I was so muddle-headed and upset that I don't know exactly what I did say.
Anyhow, he said 'twas all right, so there ain't nothin' to worry 'bout."