Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast - Page 262/334

"I'm glad you have come back to wait till all your troubles are settled.

The most consoling friends are those who know and who sympathize and who

keep still! Now come with me and listen to the children and see what

the women are doing. You will be proud and glad because you spoke up for

them that day when we went over to Hue and Cry."

After that there was no constraint between them; they kept their own

affairs hidden from each other. The autumn passed and the long, chill

evenings came, and when the fishing-schooner was in port at Maquoit,

between trips, Mayo and the girl spent comfortable hours together,

playing at cards under the widow's red-shaded lamp and under the widow's

approving eyes.

"No, they ain't courting, either," she informed the pestering neighbors.

"Do you suppose I have been twice married and twice a widder not to know

courting when I see it? It's 'Boyd this' and 'Polly that,' to be sure,

the whole continyal time; but she is engaged to somebody else, because

she has been wearing an engagement ring that has come to her since she

has been here. She showed it to me, and she showed it to him! And as for

him, everybody 'longcoast knows how dead gone on him that millionaire

girl is! Now everybody mind their own business!"

As the days passed the widow's counsel seemed to apply to all the

affairs of Maquoit; folks went at their business in good earnest.

The winter wind nipped, the wharf piles were sheathed with ice, and only

hardy men were abroad on the waterfront of the coast city, but the crew

of the Ethel and May were unusually cheerful that day.

The schooner had stayed on Cashes Banks and had ridden out a gale that

had driven other fishermen to shelter. Then in the first lull she had

sent her dories over the rail and had put down her trawls for a set,

and a rousing set it was! It seemed as if the cod, hake, and haddock had

been waiting for that gale to stop so that they might hunt for baited

hooks and have a feast. Nearly every ganging-line had its prize. The bow

pulley in each dory fairly chuckled with delight as the trawl line was

pulled over it. Every three feet was a ganging-line. Each dory strung

out a mile of trawl. And when the dories returned to the schooner and

dumped the catch into the hold the little craft fairly wallowed under

her load.

They caught the market bare; the gale had blown for nearly a week.

Fish-houses bid spiritedly against one another, and when at last a trade

was made and the schooner's crew began to pitchfork the fish into the

winch buckets, and the buckets rose creaking out over the rail, the two

captains went into the office of the fish-house to figure some mighty

gratifying profits.