There was a driving road down past Latham’s Folly and on across certain sand flats and by cranberry bogs to a small settlement where Prudence had a stepsister still living.  This old woman lived with her granddaughter’s husband’s kinsfolk, who were so distantly related to Cap’n Ira’s wife that the relationship could scarcely be followed.

“It takes us Cape Codders,” remarked Cap’n Ira, “to study out the shoals and channels of kinship.  It’s ’cause we’re such good navigators that we’re able to do it.”

“And now that we’ve got Ida May to harness up Queenie for us and look after the house while we’re gone, and you feel so much spryer yourself, Ira, I don’t see why we can’t visit our folks a little,” Prudence said.

He agreed, and they set off in high fettle just before noon, expecting to return before dark.  Sheila was upstairs dusting when, not long after the noon hour, she saw from one of the windows the spread canvas of the Seamew—­there was no mistaking the schooner—­making through the channel into the cove.

“Tunis is coming!  Tunis is coming!  Tunis is coming soon!”

Her heart sang the refrain over and over again.  She fairly danced about the household tasks she had set herself to do while the old couple were absent.  Now and again she ran to some point where she could watch the Seamew.  The memory of Tunis’ kisses were on her lips and in her heart.  In the dusk of the previous Monday morning, when he was on his way to the port to take command of his schooner, the young shipmaster had held her in his arms at the back door there, and had told her over and over again of his love for her.  Thought of that moment was an exquisite memory to the girl.

She saw the schooner drop anchor off Portygee Town, with all its canvas rattling down in windrows of white.  She even saw the little gig launched.  Tunis was coming ashore.  He would soon be up the hill.  His long strides would soon bring him to her side again—­open-eyed, ruddy-faced, a veritable sea god among men!

She ran out a dozen times to gaze down the road and wonder what kept him.  Then she turned her back on the road and spent the next half hour in beating the dust out of all the parlor and sitting room sofa pillows and one or two of the covered chairs.

Peace, like the sunshine itself, lay over all of Wreckers’ Head.  Here and there a spiral of smoke rose from a chimney, and fowl wandered about the well-reaped fields.  But not much other life was visible.  The fall haze gave to distant objects a dimmer outline, softening the sharp lineaments of the more rugged landscape.  Color and form took on new beauty.

It was all so lovely, so peaceful, that it was impossible that the girl should have dreamed of what was approaching.  Since she had come her mind had not been so far from apprehension of disaster.  Since Sunday, when she had wandered with Tunis along the shore, it had seemed to the young woman that no harm could assail her.  She was secure, sheltered, impregnably fortified both in Tunis’ love and in the situation she had gained with the Balls and in the community.