“Of course,” went on Baxter, “before I say any more I think you should be told this:  It was Captain Hall’s wish that you jointly accept the guardianship of Mary-’Gusta—­of the girl—­that she live with you and that you use whatever money comes to her from her stepfather’s estate in educating and clothing her.  Also, of course, that a certain sum each week be paid you from that estate as her board.  That was Marcellus’s wish; but it is a wish, nothing more.  It is not binding upon you in any way.  You have a perfect right to decline and—­”

Captain Shadrach interrupted.

“Heave to!” he ordered, breathlessly.  “Come up into the wind a minute, for mercy sakes!  Do you mean to say that me and Zoeth are asked to take that young-one home with us, and take care of her, and dress her, and—­and eat her, and bring her up and—­and—­”

He paused, incoherent in his excitement.  The Judge nodded.

“Yes,” he replied, “that is what he asks you to do.  But, as I say, you are not obliged to do it; there is no legal obligation.  You can say no, if you think it best.”

“If we think—­for thunder sakes, Baxter, what was the matter with Marcellus?  Was he out of his head?  Was he loony?”

“No, he was perfectly sane.”

“Then—­then, what—­Zoeth,” turning wildly to Mr. Hamilton, who still sat, pale and speechless, in his chair; “Zoeth,” he demanded, “did you ever hear such craziness in your life?  Did you ever hear such stuff?”

Zoeth merely shook his head.  His silence appeared to add to his friend’s excitement.

“Did you?” he roared.

Zoeth muttered something to the effect that he didn’t know as he ever did.

“You don’t know!  Yes, you do know, too.  Speak up, why don’t you?  Don’t sit there like a ship’s figgerhead, starin’ at nothin’.  You know it’s craziness as well’s I do.  For God sakes, say somethin’!  Talk!”

Mr. Hamilton talked—­to this extent: 

“Hush, Shadrach,” he faltered.  “Don’t be profane.”

“Profane!  Pup-pup-profane!  You set there and—­and—­Oh, jumpin’, creepin’ Judas!  I—­I—­” Language—­even his language—­failed to express his feelings and he waved his fists and sputtered.  Baxter seized the opportunity.

“Before you make your decision, gentlemen,” he said, “I hope you will consider the situation carefully.  The girl is only seven years old; she has no relations anywhere, so far as we know.  If you decline the trust a guardian will have to be appointed by the courts, I suppose.  Who that guardian will be, or what will become of the poor child I’m sure I don’t know.  And Captain Marcellus was perfectly sane; he knew what he was doing.”

Shadrach interrupted.

“He did!” he shouted.  “Well, then, I must say—­”

“Just a minute, please, I have a letter here which he wrote at the time he made his will.  It is addressed to both of you.  Here it is.  Shall I read it to you, or had you rather read it yourselves?”