“Wait until after breakfast, Sam’l.  The store won’t be open yet.  How’s your foot?”

“Pretty bad, Martha.  But I guess it’ll be all right if the ‘Eb an’ Flo’s’ safe.  Give me me pipe, will ye?  I’d like a smoke to soothe me nerves.”

It seemed to the captain that the time would never pass until John returned from the store and reported that Eben had reached the city early that morning, and all was well.

“Thank the Lord!” the captain fervently exclaimed.  “I kin rest in peace now.  But I wonder how the boy done it.  How in time he histed that sail is a mystery to me.”

“Perhaps it was never lowered,” his wife suggested.  “You left it up, didn’t you?”

“I know I did, but I saw it go down as sure as I’m alive.  Then when I looked agin, it was up, an’ the boat was adrift, making fer them mud flats.  What d’ye think of that?”

“What do you suppose saved her from going aground, Sam’l?”

“It must have been the Lord, Martha.  It was nuthin’ more’n a miracle that kept that boat from goin’ on hard an’ fast.  That boy could never have histed that sail alone an’ taken the ‘Eb an’ Flo’ down the river in sich a gale.”

“Maybe there was an angel with him, Sam’l, such as stood with St. Paul long ago.”

“Mebbe so, Martha.  I’ve been thinkin’ of that, an’ it gives one a kind of comfortin’ feelin’, doesn’t it?”

All day long the captain remained upon the sofa.  His foot pained him a great deal, but he never complained.  His wife tended him most faithfully, and never scolded him once.  She was more gentle than he had ever known her to be, and when the paper arrived from the post office she read to him the news of the day.  An article about the unsuccessful search for the body of Miss Randall was of the greatest interest, and Mrs. Tobin read it through very carefully.  The captain listened attentively, expecting every minute to hear an expression of doubt as to the girl’s death.  He lay staring straight before him when his wife had finished.  A feeling possessed him that he should tell Martha what he knew.  It would relieve his mind, and at the same time explain the presence of the girl across the way.  But would she keep the secret? or would she consider it her bounden duty to send word to the girl’s parents?  He was almost certain that she would take the latter course, and this made him hesitate.

As he was pondering over this, Mrs. Hampton and Jess Randall came to the house to see him.  They were anxious to know how he was getting along, and Mrs. Hampton had brought a bottle of her choicest jam for his special benefit.

“It is sartinly good of yez to come,” he told them.  “Martha was entertainin’ me by readin’ the paper.  It helps pass the time.”

“I was just reading about that poor girl who drowned herself,” Mrs. Tobin explained.  “Have you seen it, Miss?”