Captain Pott's Minister Part 34

"If it is absolutely necessary to go through with this, I don't see that it would make it any more terrible if we should tell Uncle Josiah the whole story. It would, at least, save his thinking ill of us. Then, there is the chance that he might suggest something."

"Beth, I'm bound by my word to say nothing. That was the one promise I made to Adoniah."

"Adoniah!" exclaimed the girl, her eyes growing wide.

"Yes. I did not mean to speak his name, but it can do no harm."

"Why,--that was the first name----Is he the same man Harold is trying to find?"

"I'm sorry to say that he is."

"The one whose last name was Phillips?"

"Yes. But why do you take such interest in him?"

"And he is a brother of Uncle Josiah?"

"A half-brother," he replied, showing that he was becoming nettled.

Elizabeth rose from her stool, and crossed over to the door that led into the hall. She did not seem to sense just what she was doing till her hand touched the cold k.n.o.b. With a start, as though wakened from a bad dream, she turned about and faced her father.

"Father,"--her breath came in short gasps,--"you have no right to keep your word to such a man as you say this Phillips person is. There is but one thing for us to do: go at once to Uncle Josiah. I'm certain he can get enough money to pay the interest, if that is what you want."

"But, Beth, I cannot do that. My business honor is at stake, and I must permit the law to take its course."

"You may be right about the legal part. But how about the moral side? Is there not something at stake there, too?"

"It does seem a moral injustice, but I cannot help that. It is hard, for Josiah will see only the moral side of it, and the people of the village will think it unjust. Josiah may find out the facts, that is, enough of them to prove to his mind that I can't foreclose on his property because of the little loan. What more he may discover, I cannot even guess. It will depend somewhat on the lawyer who advises him. But no matter what he discovers, my conscience will be clear in that I did not break faith with his renegade brother."

"What right have you to keep faith with him?"

"My little Beth, please do not question my action," he entreated. "It will all be clear to you some day. I'm willing to wait for my vindication, but I must know that my little girl trusts her daddy to do what is right. If you don't, it will kill me!"

There was such deep pathos in his voice that she recrossed the room. She laid her hand on the arm of her father's chair.

"After all, Father, I am only a girl, and know very little of law and business. Forgive me if I have hurt you. I don't see why you feel as you do about carrying this thing through at so great a sacrifice of lifelong friendships. But I believe that you must be doing the best you can as you see your duty."

"I can hope for no more than that, my dear."

Suddenly she shook the hair from her shining eyes.

"Father!"

"Yes?"

"I tell you what I'm going to do!" she cried. "I'm going to Uncle Josiah just as soon as he gets back, and tell him as much as I think he ought to know. May I?"

"Certainly, if you wish. I'll trust to your discretion. He will listen to you. I think you know what must not be said, from our conversation this evening."

"I'll do it!" she exclaimed eagerly, and stooped above the chair to kiss her father's forehead. "Now, you go right to bed. That is my first remedy. My second is like unto it: don't do one single bit of worrying.

Remember! Good night."

The Elder rose and smiled benignly on his daughter. At the door he paused, and turned back.

"Beth, this may affect the minister."

"Affect the minister? Affect Mr. McGowan? How can it do that?"

"He has doubtless urged Josiah to take this rash step to consult a lawyer, and when all the facts come out he may be forced to leave Little River. As you know, his popularity is quite dubious as matters stand at present."

"But I hardly see----"

"We'll say nothing more about that. Good night, my dear."

Her door closed, and her father crossed the hall. She was no sooner alone than a rush of unbidden thoughts and emotions swept over her, carrying all her promises like chaff before a hurricane. While her father had been in the room she had thought herself quite determined to take the hard step of explaining to Uncle Josiah just enough to remove the blame from the one she loved to the half-brother. But now that the Elder had gone her will to explain seemed gone, too. Again he rose before her imagination, a white trembling figure. She heard Harold speak the name of Adoniah Phillips, and saw her father stagger from the table.

Had these two things been a mere coincidence? Doubts began to rise. Why must the mortgage be foreclosed on Uncle Josiah's place? Why had her father acted so on the evening when Harold had spoken his client's name?

Had her father told her all? Why should all this involve the minister, even though he had advised the Captain to seek the counsel of a lawyer?

Long into the night she puzzled her brain in seeking for answers to her many questions. Of one thing she felt sure, Mr. McGowan would not leave Little River. Just between waking and sleeping she at length recalled the words of love which he had spoken to her on the beach, spoken as she had never heard them before, and they carried her along dreamy paths into a happy visionary future.

CHAPTER XV

"Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho!

Ships may come and ships may go, But I sail on forever!"

Certainly, no audience would be moved to tears, either by the quality of the voice, or by the ditty that was thus rendered. And yet, there was a blue-eyed, fair-haired girl, seated on the rocks below her father's place, whose eyes filled with tears as she listened. Elizabeth thought she was prepared to fulfill the promise made to her father three days ago, but, now that the opportunity was upon her, she felt her resolution slipping away. She loved her dear old friend as never in all her life.

The singer rounded a projection of sandy beach just beyond the rock-pile where the girl was sitting. He was hurrying up the sh.o.r.e in the direction of his home, his dejected figure revealing his utter loneliness, despite the lightness of his song. His brow was puckered, more with furrows of perplexity than with lines of anger, as he made his way with labored difficulty up the steep incline from the beach.

"Oh, Uncle Josiah!" involuntarily cried the girl as she caught a glimpse of the haggard face.

The old man stopped, turned about, and looked up.

"Now, ain't this surprising good luck to find you here!" he exclaimed.

"I was just thinking about you, Beth."

"Do your thoughts of me always make you sing like that?"

"That there song ain't got much music, and I cal'late it don't improve to speak of with my voice," he answered, his swarthy face breaking into a broad smile. "It must sound funny for an old fish like me to be serenading a young lady like you. Glad you liked the entertainment, Beth."

"I didn't say I liked it. It made me feel very bad," she said, loosening a stone with the point of her shoe and sending it rolling to the water's edge.

"Well, I don't just rec'lect that you spoke favorable on that p'int. I honest didn't know you was about else I'd tried something more fitting to the occasion. Fact is, Beth, I was singing to keep my spirits up."