Nearing the house, they heard some one hammering in the workshop.  There they found the captain busily engaged upon something which looked like a chair.

“Good morning, captain,” was the parson’s cheery greeting.  “You’ve turned carpenter, so I see.”

“Poof!” and the captain, gave a vigorous rap upon a nail he was driving into place, “it’s necessary to be every dang thing these days, with the world so full of idiots.  It’s good there’s somebody who kin turn his hand to anything.  It’s the fools who make so much work fer honest folks.”

“Why, what’s up now?” the parson queried.

“Ye’d better ask ‘what’s down?’ It’s that little lass in yon, down in bed, because some numb-skulls thought they could sail a boat.  I told ‘em this mornin’ what I thought of ’em fer takin’ a gal like that out on the water, an’ they went off in a huff.”

“How is she this morning, captain?  Rodney told me all about the accident, and so we have come to make inquiries.”

“Oh, she’s all right, considerin’ what she went through.  She’s all clewed down now and ridin’ easy.  Guess she’ll be there fer some time.  Want to see her?”

“Yes, if she’s able to be seen.”

“Able!  Why, she’s the fittest one of the bunch as fer as her mind is concerned.  I want to git this chair fixed up fer her as soon as possible.  Go right in.  I guess ye’ll find Betsey in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Britt pleasantly received her visitors, and introduced the clergyman to Mrs. Sinclair.  The latter was a woman of striking appearance.  Her face, of considerable strength and refinement, was marked by lines of care.  But it was her eyes which attracted Parson Dan’s special attention as he shook hands with her, and inquired after her daughter.

“Oh, Whyn came out of the affair the best of all,” and a smile illumined Mrs. Sinclair’s face.  “I was greatly worried about her last night, but she seems none the worse for her experience.  Would you like to see her?  I am afraid you will find her a regular little chatter-box.”

Mrs. Sinclair said not a word to Rod, in fact she had hardly noticed him.  He remained standing in the middle of the room after the others had left, twirling his cap in his nervous hands.  He wanted to see the girl, too, but he had not been invited, and he felt indignant.  He had the first right to go, so he told himself, for he had helped to rescue her.  He thought of going out to the workshop and talking it all over with the captain.  He dismissed the idea, however, and perching himself upon a chair, waited to see what would happen.

It seemed a long time to him before the others came out of the girl’s room, but in reality it was only a few minutes.  There was a smile upon the clergyman’s face as he turned to the boy.

“You’re the favoured one this morning, Rodney,” he said.  “The princess wants to see you.  She hasn’t much use for us older people.”