"Let me see," said the lady. "Where was I? Oh, yes! the Land Company's failin'. Well, it failed and the insurance money went with it. It was discouragin', of course, but I had my house, except for the mortgage, and I had my health again, and, if I do say it, I ain't afraid of work, so I jest made up my mind there was no use cryin' over spilt milk, and that I must git along and begin to save all over again. Then Jedge Briar died and his nephew up to Boston come into the property. I was behind in my payments a little, and they sent me word they should foreclose the mortgage, and they did.""Well, I swan! The mean sculpins! Didn't you have NOBODY you could go to; no relations nor nothin'?""I've got a brother out in Chicago, but he married rich and his wife doesn't care much for her husband's relations. I never saw her but once, and then one of the first things she asked me was if it was true that there was more crazy people in Nantucket than in any other place of its size on earth, and afore I could answer she asked me what made 'em crazy. I told her I didn't know unless it was answerin' city folks' questions. She didn't like that very well, and I haven't heard from Job--that's my brother--for a long time. All my other near relations are dead.
"So they foreclosed the mortgage, and gave me notice to move out.
I packed my things, and watered my flowers--I had quite a pretty flower garden--for the last time, and then come in and set down in the rocker to wait for the wagon that was goin' to move me. I got to thinkin' how proud Jubal and me was when we bought that house and how we planned about fixin' it up, and how our baby that died was born in it, and how Jubal himself had died there, and told me that he was glad he was leavin' me a home, at any rate; and I got so lonesome and discouraged that I jest cried, I couldn't help it.
But I've never found that cryin' did much good, so I wiped my eyes and looked for somethin' to read to take up my mind. And that Chime paper was what I took up.
"You see, there'd been a big excursion from Boston down the day before, and some of the folks come down my way to have a sort of picnic. Two of 'em, factory girls from Brockton, they was, come to the house for a drink of water. They were gigglin', foolish enough critters, but I asked 'em in, and they eat their lunches on my table. They left two or three story papers and that Chime thing when they went away.
"Well, I looked it over, and almost the first thing I saw was that advertisement signed 'Skipper.' It didn't read like the other trashy things in there, and it sounded honest. And all of a sudden it come over me that I'd answer it. I was lonesome and tired and sort of didn't care, and I answered it right off without waitin'
another minute. That's all there is to tell. When I come here to be housekeeper I wrote the folks that's takin' care of my furniture--they're reel kind people; I was goin' to board there if I had stayed in Nantucket--to keep it till I come back. There! Imeant to tell you this long ago, and I don't know why I haven't."The Captain knew why she hadn't. It was easy to read between the lines the tale of the years of disappointment and anxiety. Such stories are not easy to tell, and he respected the widow more than ever for the simple way in which she had told hers.
"That Land Company bus'ness," he said, "carried off a good lot of Cape Cod money. I never saw but one man that I thought was glad it busted, and that was old Caleb Weeks, over to Harniss. The old man was rich, but closer 'n the bark of a tree--he'd skin a flea for the hide and taller--and used to be a hard case into the bargain.
One time they had a big revival over there and he got religion.
The boys used to say what caught Caleb was the minister's sayin'
salvation was free. Well, anyhow, he got converted and j'ined the church. That was all right, only while the fit was fresh he pledged himself to give five hundred dollars to help build the new chapel. When he cooled down a little he was sorry, and every time they'd hint at his comin' down with the cash, he'd back and fill, and put it off for a spell. When the Land Company went up he was the only happy one in town, 'cause he said he'd lost all his money.
Course, under the circumstances, they couldn't ask him to pay, so he didn't. From what I hear he lost as much as fifty dollars."They both laughed, and Mrs. Snow was about to answer when she was interrupted.
"Eri," said a weak voice. "Eri."
The Captain started, turned sharply, and saw the sick man watching him, his eyes fixed and unwavering.
"Eri," said John Baxter again, "come here."Mrs. Snow hurried to her patient, but the latter impatiently bade her let him alone.
"Not you," he said, "I want Eri."
Captain Eri stooped down beside the bed.
"What is it, John?" he asked.
"Eri s'pose God called you to break man's law and keep his, what would you do?"The Captain glanced anxiously at the house-keeper. Then he said soothingly:
"Oh, that's all right, John. Don't worry 'bout that. You and me settled that long ago. How are you feelin' now?""I know, I know," with the monotonous persistence of those whose minds are wandering,--and then cleanly once more, "Eri, I've been called.""Ssh-h! That's all right, John; that's all right. Don't you want Mrs. Snow to fix your piller? P'raps you'd lay a little easier, then. Now, Mrs. Snow, if you'll jest turn it while I lift him.
So; that's better now, ain't it, shipmate, hey?" But the sick man muttered an unintelligible something, and relapsed once more into the half-doze, half-stupor that was his usual state.
Captain Eri sighed in relief.
"That was queer, wa'n't it?" he observed.
"He's had two or three of those spells in the last day or two," was the answer.
