Captain Perez made a clean breast of it to Captain Eri when he reached home that night. It was after twelve o'clock, but he routed his friend out of bed to tell him the news and the story. Captain Eri was not as surprised to hear of the engagement as he pretended to be, for he had long ago made up his mind that Perez meant business this time. But the tale of the fire and the voyage in the carryall tickled him immensely, and he rolled back and forth in the rocker and laughed until his side ached.

“I s'pose it does sound kind of ridic'lous,” said the accepted suitor in a rather aggrieved tone, “but it wa'n't ha'f so funny when 'twas goin' on. Fust I thought I'd roast to death, then I thought I'd freeze, and then I thought I'd drown.”

“Perez,” said the panting Eri, “you're a wonder. I'm goin' to tell Sol Bangs 'bout you next time I see him. He'll want you to enter in the races next Fourth of July. We've had tub races and the like of that, but a carryall sailin' match 'll be somethin' new. I'll back you against the town, though. You can count on me.”

“Now, look here, Eri Hedge, if you tell a livin' soul 'bout it, I'll—”

“All right, shipmate, all right; but it's too good to keep. You ought to write a book, one of them kind like Josiah used to read. Call it 'The Carryall Pirate, or The Terror of the Channel,' hey? Gee! you'd be famous! But, say, old man,” he added more seriously, “I'll shake hands with you. I b'lieve you've got a good woman, one that 'll make it smooth sailin' for you the rest of your life. I wish you both luck.”

Captain Perez shook hands very gravely. He was still a little suspicious of his chum's propensity to tease. It did not tend to make him less uneasy when, a little later, Captain Eri opened the parlor door and whispered, “Say, Perez, I've jest thought of some-thin'. What are you goin' to say to M'lissy Busteed? Her heart 'll be broke.”

“Aw, git out!” was the disgusted answer.

“Well, I only mentioned it. Folks have had to pay heavy for breach of promise 'fore now. Good-night.”

Perez manfully told of his engagement at the breakfast table next morning, although he said nothing concerning the rest of his adventures. He was rather taken aback to find that no one seemed greatly surprised. Everyone congratulated him, of course, and it was gratifying to discern the high opinion of the future Mrs. Ryder held by Mrs. Snow and the rest. Captain Jerry solemnly shook hands with him after the meal was over and said, “Perez, you done the right thing. There's nothin' like married life, after all.”

“Then why don't you try it yourself?” was the unexpected question. “Seems to me we'll have to settle that matter of yours pretty soon. I meant to speak to Eri 'bout it 'fore this, but I've had so much on my mind. I will to-night when he comes back from fishin'.”

Captain Jerry made no further remarks, but walked thoughtfully away.

So that evening, when they were together in Captain Jerry's room after supper, Perez, true to his promise, said:

“Eri, it seems to me we've got to do somethin' 'bout Mrs. Snow. She was hired to be housekeeper while John was sick. Now he's dead, and she'll think it's queer if we don't settle that marryin' bus'ness. Ain't that so?”

“Humph!” grunted Captain Jerry. “Perez is in a mighty sweat to git other folks married jest 'cause he's goin' to be. I don't see why she can't keep on bein' housekeeper jest the same as she's always been.”

“Well, I do, and so do you, and you know it. We agreed to the housekeepin' bus'ness jest as a sort of put off. Now we can't put off no longer. Mrs. Snow come down here 'cause we advertised for a wife, and she's been so everlastin' good that I feel 'most ashamed every time I think of it. No use, you've got to ask her to marry you. He has, hasn't he, Eri?”

“Yes,” answered Captain Eri laconically.

The sacrifice squirmed. “I hate to ask,” he said. “Why don't we wait a spell, and let her say somethin' fust?”

“That WOULD be nice, wouldn't it? She's that kind of a woman, ain't she?” sputtered Perez. “No, you bet she ain't! What she'd say would be to give her opinion of us and our manners, and walk out of the house bag and baggage, and I wouldn't blame her for doin' it.”

“P'raps she wouldn't have me. She never said she would.”

“Never said she would! Have you ever asked her? She's had all this time to l'arn to know you in, and I cal'late if she was willin' to think 'bout it 'fore she ever see you, she'd be more willin' now. Ain't that so, Eri?”

And again Captain Eri said shortly, “Yes.”

“I wish you'd mind your own consarns, and give me time,” protested Captain Jerry.

“Time! How much time do you want? Land of Goshen! I should think you'd had time enough. Why—”

“Oh, let up!” snorted the persecuted. “Why don't you git married yourself, and bring Pashy over to keep house? What we started to git in the fust place was jest a wife for one of us that would keep things shipshape, and now—”

The withering look of scorn that Perez bent upon him caused him to hesitate and stop. Captain Perez haughtily marched to the door.

“Eri,” he said, “I ain't goin' to waste my time talkin' to a—a dogfish like him. He ain't wuth it.”

“Hold on, now, Perez!” pleaded the discomfited sacrifice, alarmed at his comrade's threatened desertion. “I was only foolin'. Can't you take a joke? I haven't said I wouldn't do it. I think a heap of Mrs. Snow; it's only that I ain't got the spunk to ask her, that's all.”

“Humph! it don't take much spunk,” replied the successful wooer, forgetful of his own past trepidation.

“Well,” Captain Jerry wriggled and twisted, but saw no loophole. “Well, give me a month to git up my courage in and—”

“A month! A month's ridic'lous; ain't it, Eri”

“Yes.”

“Well, three weeks, then.”

This offer, too, was rejected. Then Captain Jerry held out for a fortnight—for ten days. Finally, it was settled that within one week from that very night he was to offer his heart and hand to the lady from Nantucket. He pledged his solemn word to do it.

“There!” exclaimed the gratified Captain Perez. “That's a good job done. He won't never be sorry for it, will he, Eri?”

And Captain Eri made his fourth contribution to the conversation.

“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.”

“Captain Jeremiah Burgess!” exclaimed Elsie. Then she added, “What MUST he think of me?”

“Oh, I'll fix that!” exclaimed the Captain. “I'll see him some time to-day, and I'll tell him you didn't mean it. Why, I declare! Yes, 'tis! There he is, now! Hi! Mr. Hazeltine! Come here a minute.”

A mischievous imp was certainly directing Captain Jerry's movements. Ralph had, almost for the first time since he came to Orham, paid an early morning visit to the office in order to send an important letter in the first mail. The slamming of the door had attracted the Captain's attention and, in response to the hail, Mr. Hazeltine crossed the road.

And then Captain Jerry felt his arm clutched with a grip that meant business, as Miss Preston whispered, “Don't you dare say one word to him about it. Don't you DARE!”

If Ralph had been surprised by the request to join the couple, he was more surprised by the reception he received. Elsie's face was crimson, and as for the Captain, he looked like a man who had suddenly been left standing alone in the middle of a pond covered with very thin ice.

The electrician bowed and shook hands gravely. As no remark seemed to be forthcoming from those who had summoned him, he observed that it was an unpleasant morning. This commonplace reminded him of one somewhat similar that he had made to a supposed Miss “Gusty” Black, and he, too, colored.

“Did you want to speak with me, Captain?” he asked, to cover his confusion.

“Why—why, I did,” stammered poor Captain Jerry, “but—but I don't know's I do now.” Then he realized that this was not exactly complimentary, and added, “That is, I don't know—I don't know's I—Elsie, what was it I was goin' to say to Mr. Hazeltine?”

At another time it is likely that the young lady's quick wit would have helped her out of the difficulty, but now she was too much disturbed.

“I'm sure I don't know,” she said coldly.

“You don't know! Why, yes you do? 'Twas—'twas—” The Captain was frantically grasping at straws. “Why, we was wonderin' why you didn't come to see us nowadays.”

If the Captain had seen the look that Elsie shot at him, as he delivered this brilliant observation, he might have been more, instead of less, uncomfortable. As it was, he felt rather proud of having discovered a way out of the difficulty. But Ralph's embarrassment increased. He hurriedly said something about having been very busy.

“Well,” went on the Captain, intent on making the explanation as plausible as possible, “we've missed you consider'ble. We was sayin' we hoped you wouldn't give us up altogether. Ain't that so, Elsie?”

Miss Preston's foot tapped the sidewalk several times, but she answered, though not effusively:

“Mr. Hazeltine is always welcome, of course.” Then, she added, turning away, “Really, Captain Jerry, I must hurry to school. I have a great deal of work to do before nine o'clock. Good-morning, Mr. Hazeltine.”

The Captain paused long enough to say, “We'll expect you now, so come,” and then hurried after her. He was feeling very well satisfied with himself.

“By mighty! Elsie,” he chuckled, “I got out of that nice, didn't I?”

He received no answer, even when he repeated the remark, and, although he endeavored, as he swept out the schoolroom, to engage the teacher in conversation, her replies were as cold as they were short. The Captain went home in the last stages of dismalness.

That afternoon, when Captain Eri returned from the fishing grounds, he found Captain Jerry waiting for him at the shanty. The humiliated matchmaker sent Josiah up to the grocery store on an errand, and then dragged his friend inside and shut the door.

Captain Eri looked at the woe-begone face with some concern.

“What ails you, Jerry?” he demanded. “Have you—have you spoken to Mrs. Snow 'bout that—that marriage?”

“No, I ain't, Eri, but I'm in a turrible mess, and I don't know why, neither. Seems to me the more I try to do for other folks the wuss off I am; and, instead of gittin' thanks, all I git is blame.”

“Why, what's the matter?”

“Well, now I know you'll think I'm a fool, and 'll jest pester the life out of me. See here, Eri Hedge! If I tell you what I want to, will you promise not to pitch into me, and not to nag and poke fun? If you don't promise I won't tell one single word, no matter what happens.”

So Captain Eri promised, and then Captain Jerry, stammering and hesitating, unburdened his mind of the whole affair, telling of his first reproof by Elsie, his “explanation” to Ralph, and the subsequent developments. Long before he finished, Captain Eri rose and, walking over to the door, stood looking out through the dim pane at the top, while his shoulders shook as if there was a smothered earthquake inside.

“There!” exclaimed the injured matrimonial agent, in conclusion. “There's the whole fool thing, and I 'most wish I'd never seen either of 'em. I thought I did fust-rate this mornin' when I was tryin' to think up somethin' to show why I hailed Hazeltine, but no, Elsie won't hardly speak to me. I wish to goodness you'd tell me what to do.”

Captain Eri turned away from the door. His eyes were watery, and his face was red, but he managed to say:

“Oh, Jerry, Jerry! Your heart's big as a bucket, but fishin' 's more in your line than gittin' folks married to order is, I'm 'fraid. You stay here, and unload them fish in the dory. There ain't many of 'em, and Josiah 'll help when he gits back. I'm goin' out for a few minutes.”

He went down to the beach, climbed into a dory belonging to a neighbor, and Captain Jerry saw him row away in the direction of the cable station.

That evening, after the dishes were washed and the table cleared, there came a knock at the door. Mrs. Snow opened it.

“Why, for goodness sake! Mr. Hazeltine!” she exclaimed. “Come right in. What a stranger you are!”

Ralph entered, shook the snow, which had just begun to fall, from his hat and coat, took off these articles, in response to the hearty invitation of Captain Eri, and shook hands with all present. Elsie's face was an interesting study. Captain Jerry looked scared.

After a few minutes' talk, Captain Eri rose.

“Mrs. Snow,” he said, “come upstairs a little while. I want to talk to you 'bout somethin'. You come, too, Jerry.”

Captain Jerry looked from Elsie to the speaker, and then to Elsie again. But Captain Eri's hand was on his arm, and he rose and went.

Elsie watched this wholesale desertion with amazement. Then the door opened again, and Captain Eri put in his head.

“Elsie,” he said, “I jest want to tell you that this is my doin's, not Jerry's. That's all.” And the door shut.

Elsie faced the caller with astonishment written on her face.

“Mr. Hazeltine,” she said icily, “you may know what this means, but I don't.”

Ralph looked at her and answered solemnly, but with a twinkle in his eye:

“I'm afraid I can guess, Miss Preston. You see Captain Jerry paid Captain Eri a call this afternoon and, as a result, Captain Eri called upon me. Then, as a result of THAT, I—well, I came here.”

The young lady blushed furiously. “What did Captain Eri tell you?” she demanded.

“Just what Captain Jerry told him.”

“And that was?”

“What you told Captain Jerry this morning concerning something that you told him before, I believe.”

There was no answer to this. Miss Preston looked as if she had a mind to run out of the room, then as if she might cry, and finally as if she wanted to laugh.

“I humbly apologize,” said the electrician contritely.

“YOU apologize? For what?”

“For my stupidity in believing that Captain Jerry was to be accepted seriously.”

“You were excusable, certainly. And now I must apologize; also for taking the Captain too seriously.”

“Suppose we pair the apologies as they do the votes in the Senate. Then one will offset the other.”

“I'm afraid that isn't fair, for the blunder was all on my part.”

“Well, if we can't pair apologies, suppose we pair blunders. I don't accept your statement of guilt, mind, but since you are determined to shoulder it, we might put it on one side and on the other we'll put—”

“What?”

“'Gusty' Black.”

And then they both laughed.

A little later Captain Eri knocked at the door.

“Is it safe for a feller to come in?” he asked.

“Well,” said Elsie severely, “I don't know whether talebearers should be admitted or not, but if they do come they must beg pardon for interfering in other people's affairs.”

“Ma'am,” and the Captain made a profound bow, “I hope you'll be so 'kind and condescendin', and stoop so low, and be so bendin'' as to forgive me. And, while I'm 'bout it, I'll apologize for Jerry, too.”

“No, sir,” said the young lady decidedly. “Captain Jerry must apologize for himself. Captain Jeremiah Burgess,” she called up the stairway, “come into court, and answer for your sins.”

And Captain Jerry tremblingly came.