He continued to call the farmers, despite Ward’s objurgations.  Farmers called their wives.  All followed behind the engaged couple.  As usually happens in country communities, word had gone abroad in other directions that there were strange doings at the Pike place.  With huge satisfaction the Cap’n noted that the yard was packed with spectators.

“Where be ye?” bellowed Colonel Ward, now in a frenzy.  “Where be ye, ye scalawags that are round tryin’ to hector a respectable woman that wouldn’t wipe her feet on ye?  Come out here and talk to me!”

The neighbors fell back, recognizing his authority in the matter; and the men who were suing this modern Penelope appeared from various parts of the premises.

“I desire to say, as a clergyman along evangelical lines, and not a settled pastor,” said the man in the fuzzy plug-hat, “that I do not approve of this person’s violent language.  I have seen him once before to-day, and he appeared singularly vulgar and unrefined.  He used violent language then.  I desire to say to you, sir, that I am here on the best of authority”—­he tapped his breast pocket—­“and here I shall remain until I have discussed the main question thoroughly with the estimable woman who has invited me here.”

“It’s a lie—­I never invited him, Colonel Gid!” cried the spinster.  “If you’re any part of a man, and mean any part of what you have allus said to me, you’ll make him take that back.”

For a moment the Colonel’s jealous suspicion had flamed again, but the woman’s appeal fired him in another direction.

“Look here, you men,” he shouted, his gaze running over plug-hat, swollen nose, seaman’s broad face, and the faces of the other suitors, “I’m Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, and I’ve been engaged to Miss Pharline Pike for fifteen years, and—­”

“Then I don’t blame her for changing her mind, ye bloody landlubber!” snorted the seaman, smacking his hand upon his folded paper.

“Being engaged signifies little in the courts of matrimony,” said the decayed-looking man with dignity.  “She has decided to choose another, and—­”

Colonel Ward threw back his shoulders and faced them all with glittering eyes.

“I’d like to see the man that can step into this town and lug off the woman that’s promised to me,” he raved.  “Engagements don’t hold, hey?  Then you come this way a week from to-day, and you’ll see Gideon Ward and Pharline Pike married as tight as a parson can tie the knot.  I mean it!” The excitement of the moment, his rage at interference in his affairs, his desire to triumph thus publicly over these strangers, had led him into the declaration.

The spinster gasped, but she came to him and trustfully put her hand on his arm.

“P’raps some can be put off by that bluff,” said the man with the swollen nose, “but not me that has travelled.  I’m here on business, and I’ve got the dockyments, and if there’s any shenanigan, then some one’s got to pay me my expenses, and for wear and tear.”  He waved a paper.