The rest of the day Dickory spent with Mr. Mander and his wife, who were intelligent and pleasant people.  They talked of their travels, their misfortunes and their blessings, and Dickory yearned to pour out his soul to them, but he could not do so.  His woes did not belong to himself alone; they were not for the ears of strangers.  He made up his mind what he would do.  Until the morrow he would stay as a visitor with these most hospitable people, then he would ask for work.  He would collect firewood, he would hunt, he would fish, he would do anything.  And here he would support himself until there came some merchant ship bound southward which would carry him away.  If the Mander family were anyway embarrassed or annoyed by his presence here, he would make a camp at a little distance and live there by himself.  Perhaps the lady of the tree would kindly send him word if the ship he was looking for should come.

It was about the middle of the afternoon, and Lena had dropped asleep beneath the tree where Dickory and her parents were conversing, when suddenly there rushed upon the little group a most surprising figure.  At the first flash of thought Dickory supposed that a boy from the skies had dropped among them, but in an instant he recognised the face he had seen above the bushes.  It was Lucilla, the daughter of the house!  Upon her head was a little straw hat, and she wore a loose tunic and a pair of sailor’s trousers, which had been cut off and were short enough to show that her feet and ankles were bare.  Around her waist she had a belt of skins, from which dangled a string of crimson sea-beans.  Her eyes were wide open, her face was pale, and she was trembling with excitement.

“What do you think!” she cried, not caring who was there or who might look at her.  “There’s a ship at the spring, and there’s a boat rowing across the bay.  A boat with four men in it!”

All started to their feet.

“A boat,” cried Mander, “with four men in it?  Run, my dear, to the cave; press into its depths as far as you can.  There is nothing there to be afraid of, and no matter how frightened you are, press into its most distant depths.  You, sir, will remain with me, or would you rather escape?  If it is a pirate ship, it may be Blackbeard who has returned.”

“Not so,” cried Lucilla, “it is a merchant vessel, and they are making straight for the mouth of our stream.”

“I will stay here with you,” said Dickory, “and stand by you, unless I may help your family seek the cave you speak of.”

“No, no,” said Mander, “they don’t need you, and if you will do so we will go down to the beach and meet these men; that will be better than to have them search for us.  They will know that people live here, for my canoe is drawn up on the beach.”

“Is this safe?” cried Dickory; “would it not be better for you to go with your family and hide with them?  I will meet the men in the boat.”