She had known perfectly well that some time she would have to “pay the piper.”  Aunt Euphemia would never overlook such a thing.  Louise was sure of that.  But the idea that the Poughkeepsie lady would follow her to Cardhaven never for a moment entered Louise’s thought.

She had put off this reckoning until the fall—­until the return of daddy-professor.  But here Aunt Euphemia had descended upon her as unexpectedly as the Day of Wrath spoken of in Holy Writ.

As she came down the stairs she heard her uncle’s voice in the living-room.  Something had started him upon a tale of adventure above and beyond the usual run of his narrative.

“Yes, ma’am,” he was saying, “them that go down to the sea in ships, as the Good Book says, sartain sure meet with hair-raisin’ experiences.  You jumped then, ma’am, when old Jerry let out a peep.  He was just tryin’ his voice I make no doubt.  Ain’t sung for months they say.  I didn’t know why till I—­I found out t’other day he was blind—–­stone blind.

“Some thinks birds don’t know nothing, or ain’t much account in this man-world——­But, as I was sayin’, I lay another course.  I’ll never forget one v’y’ge I made on the brigantine Hermione.  That was ’fore the day of steam-winches and we carried a big crew—­thirty-two men for’ard and a big after-guard.

“Well, ma’am!  Whilst she was hove down in a blow off the Horn an albatross came aboard.  You know what they be—­the one bird in all the seven seas that don’t us’ally need a dry spot for the sole of his foot.  If Noah had sent out one from the ark he’d never have come back with any sprig of promise for the land-hungry wanderers shut up in that craft.

“’Tis bad luck they do say to kill an albatross.  Some sailors claim ev’ry one o’ them is inhabited by a lost soul.  I ain’t superstitious myself.  I’m only telling you what happened.

“Dunno why that bird boarded us.  Mebbe he was hurt some way.  Mebbe ’twas fate.  But he swooped right inboard, his wing brushing the men at the wheel.  Almost knocked one o’ them down.  He was a Portugee man named Tony Spadello and he had a re’l quick temper.

“Tony had his knife out in a flash and jumped for the creature.  The other steersman yelled (one man couldn’t rightly hold the wheel alone, the sea was kicking up such a bobberation) but Tony’s one slash was enough.  The albatross tumbled right down on the deck, a great cut in its throat.  It bled like a dog shark, cluttering up the deck.”

“Horrid!” murmured Mrs. Conroth with a shudder of disgust.

“Yes—­the poor critter!” agreed Cap’n Amazon.  “I never like to see innocent, dumb brutes killed.  Cap’n Hicks—­he was a young man in them days, and boastful—­cursed the mess it made, yanked off the bird’s head, so’s to have the beautiful pink beak of it made into the head of a walking-stick, and ordered Tony to throw the carcass overboard and clean up the deck.  I went to the wheel in his stead, with Jim Ledward.  Jim says to me:  ’Am’zon, that bird’ll foller us.  Can’t git rid of it so easy as that.’