Part 45 (1/2)

”A word!” said I, amazed.

”Just,” he answered, ”one word.”

'Twas mystifying. ”An' what word,” I asked, ”might that word be?”

”'Expiation,'” he replied.

I did not know the meaning of that word--nor did I care. But I was glad that my dear sister--whose cleverness (and spirit of sacrifice) might ever be depended upon--had found it: since it had led to a consummation so happy.

”Skipper Tommy saved?” I enquired

”He's with the twins at the Rat Hole.”

”Then,” said I, rising, ”as you're both busy,” said I, in a saucy flash, ”I'll be goin'----”

”You'll not!” roared the doctor. And he leaped from his seat--bore down upon me, indeed, like a mad hurricane: my sister laughing and clapping her little hands. So I knew I must escape or have my bones near crack under the pressure of his affection; and I was agile--and eluded him.

I found Skipper Tommy and the twins at the Rat Hole--the skipper established in comfort by the stove, a cup of tea at his hand, his stockinged feet put up to warm: the twins sitting close, both grinning broadly, each finely alert to antic.i.p.ate the old man's wants, who now had acquired a pampered air, which sat curiously upon him. ”Seems t' me, Davy,” he said, in a solemn whisper, at the end of the tale, new told for me, ”that the dear Lard took pity. 'You done pretty well, Tommy,'

says He, 't' put out t' the help o' Jagger in that there gale. I'm thinkin' I'll have t' change my mind about you,' says He. 'The twins, Tommy,' says He, 'is well growed, an' able lads, both, as I knowed when I started out t' do this thing; but I'm thinkin',' says He, 'that I'll please you, Tommy,' says He, 'by lettin' you live a little longer with them dear lads.' Oh,” the skipper concluded, finding goodness in all the acts of the Lord, the while stretching out his rough old hand to touch the boys, his face aglow, ”'twas wonderful kind o' Him t' let me see my lads again!”

The twins heartily grinned.

XXVIII

IN HARBOUR

When the doctor was told of the tragic end of Jagger of Wayfarer's Tickle, he shuddered, and sighed, and said that Jagger had planned a n.o.ble death for him: but said no more; nor has he since spoken the name of that bad man. And we sent the master of the _Jessie Dodd_ to St.

Johns by the last mail-boat of that season--and did not seek to punish him: because he had lost all that he had, and was most penitent; and because Jagger was dead, and had died the death that he did.... The last of the doctor's small patrimony repaired the damage done our business by the wreck of the _Trap and Seine_: and brought true my old dream of an established trade, done with honour and profit to ourselves and the folk of our coast, and of seven schooners, of which, at last, the twins were made masters of two.... And that winter my sister was very happy--ay, as happy (though 'tis near sin to say it) as her dear self deserved. Sweet sister--star of my life!... The doctor, too, was happy; and not once (and many a cold night I s.h.i.+vered in my meagre nightgown at his door to discover it)--not once did he suffer the old agony I had known him to bear. And when, frankly, I asked him why this was----

”Love, Davy,” he answered.

”Love?” said I.

”And labour.”

”An' labour?”

”And the Gospel according to Tommy.”

”Sure,” I asked, puzzled, ”what's that?”

”Faith,” he answered.

”'Tis queer!” I mused.