The Woman-Haters Part 12

So the young man did go. He climbed aboard the stranded craft--a forlorn picture she made, lying on her side in the mud--and was surprised to find how much had been manufactured "out of nothing." Her seams, those which the sun had opened, were caulked neatly; her deck was clean and white; she was partially rigged, with new and old canvas and ropes; and to his landsman's eyes she looked almost fit for sea. But when he said as much to Seth, the latter laughed scornfully.

"Fit for nothin'," scoffed the lightkeeper. "I could make her fit, maybe, if I wanted to spend money enough, but I don't. I can't get at her starboard side, that's down in the mud, and I cal'late she'd leak like a skimmer. She's only got a fores'l and a jib, and the jib's only a little one that used to belong to a thirty-foot sloop. Her anchor's gone, and I wouldn't trust her main topmast to carry anything bigger'n a handkerchief, nor that in a breeze no more powerful than a canary bird's breath. And, as I told you, it would take a tide like a flood to float her. No, she's no good, and never will be; but," with a sigh, "I get a little fun fussin' over her."

"Er--by the way," he added, a little later, "of course you won't mention to n.o.body what I told you about--about my bein' a fishin' skipper once. Not that anybody ever comes here for you to mention it to, but I wouldn't want . . . You see, n.o.body in Eastboro or anywheres on the Cape knows where I come from, and so . . . Oh, all right, all right. I know you ain't the kind to talk. Mind our own business, that's the motto you and me cruise under, hey?"

Yet, although the conversation in the subst.i.tute a.s.sistant's room was not again referred to by either, it had the effect of making the oddly a.s.sorted pair a bit closer in their companionship. The mutual trust was strengthened by the lightkeeper's half confidence and Brown's sympathetic reception of it. Each was lonely, each had moments when he felt he must express his hidden feelings to some one, and, though neither recognized the fact, it was certain that the time was coming when all mysteries would be mysteries no longer. And one day occurred a series of ridiculous happenings which, bidding fair at first to end in a quarrel the relationship between the two, instead revealed in both a kindred trait that removed the last barrier.

At a little before ten on this particular morning, Brown, busy in the kitchen, heard vigorous language outside. It was Atkins who was speaking, and the a.s.sistant wondered who on earth he could be talking to. A glance around the doorpost showed that he was, apparently, talking to himself--at least, there was no other human being to be seen. He held in his hand a battered pair of marine gla.s.ses and occasionally he peered through them. Each time he did so his soliloquy became more animated and profane.

"What's the matter?" demanded Brown, emerging from the house.

"Matter?" repeated Seth. "Matter enough! Here! take a squint through them gla.s.ses and tell me who's in that buggy comin' yonder?"

The buggy, a black dot far down the sandy road leading from the village, was rocking and dipping over the dunes. The a.s.sistant took the gla.s.ses, adjusted them, and looked as directed.

"Why!" he said slowly, "there are three people in that buggy. A man--and--"

"And two women; that's what I thought. Dum idiots comin' over to picnic and spend the day, sure's taxes. And they'll want to be showed round the lights and everywheres, and they'll ask more'n forty million questions.

Consarn the luck!"

Brown looked troubled. He had no desire to meet strangers.

"How do you know they're coming here?" he asked. The answer was conclusive.

"Because," snarled Seth, "as I should think you'd know by this time, there ain't no other place round here they COULD come to."

A moment later, he added, "Well, you'll have to show 'em round."

"I will?"

"Sartin. That's part of the a.s.sistant keeper's job."

He chuckled as he said it. That chuckle grated on the young man's nerves.

"I'm not the a.s.sistant," he declared cheerfully.

"You ain't? What are you then?"

"Oh, just a helper. I don't get any wages. You've told me yourself, over and over, that I have no regular standing here. And, according to the government rules, those you've got posted in the kitchen, the lightkeeper is obliged to show visitors about. I wouldn't break the rules for the world. Good morning. Think I'll go down to the beach."

He stalked away whistling. Atkins, his face flaming, roared after him a profane opinion concerning his actions. Then he went into the kitchen, slamming the door with a bang.

Some twenty minutes later the helper heard his name shouted from the top of the bluff.

"Mr. Brown! I say! Ahoy there, Mr. Brown! Come up here a minute, won't ye?"

Brown clambered up the path. A little man, with grey throat whiskers, and wearing an antiquated straw hat, the edge of the brim trimmed with black braid, was standing waiting for him.

"Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Brown," stammered the little man, "but you be Mr. Brown, ain't you?"

"I am. Yes."

"Well, I cal'lated you was. My name's Stover, Abijah Stover. I live over to Trumet. Me and my wife drove over for a sort of picnic like. We've got her cousin, Mrs. Sophia Hains, along. Sophi's a widow from Boston, and she ain't never seen a lighthouse afore. I know Seth Atkins slightly, and I was cal'latin' he'd show us around, but bein' as he's so sick--"

"Sick? Is Mr. Atkins sick?"

"Why, yes. Didn't you know it? He's in the bedroom there groanin'

somethin' terrible. He told me not to say nothin' to the women folks, but to hail you, and you'd look out for us. Didn't you know he was laid up? Why, he--"

Brown did not wait to hear more. He strode to the house, with Mr. Stover at his heels. On his way he caught a glimpse of the buggy, the horse dozing between the shafts. On the seat of the buggy were two women, one plump and round-faced, the other thin and gaunt.

Mr. Stover panted behind him.

"Say, Mr. Brown," he whispered, as they entered the kitchen; "don't tell my wife nor Sophi about Seth's bein' sick. Better not say a word to them about it."

The tone in which this was spoken made the subst.i.tute a.s.sistant curious.

"Why not?" he asked.

"'Cause--well, 'cause Hannah's hobby is sick folks, as you might say. If there's a cat in the neighborhood that's ailin' she's always dosin' of it up and fixin' medicine for it, and the like of that. And Sophi's one of them 'New Thoughters' and don't believe anybody's got any right to be sick. The two of 'em ain't done nothin' but argue and row over diseases and imagination and medicines ever since Sophi got here. If they knew Seth was laid up, I honestly believe they'd drop picnic and everythin'

and start fightin' over whether he was really sick or just thought he was. And I sort of figgered on havin' a quiet day off."

Brown found the lightkeeper stretched on the bed in his room. He was dressed, with the exception of coat and boots, and when the young man entered he groaned feebly.

"What's the matter?" demanded the alarmed helper.

"Oh, my!" groaned Seth. "Oh, my!"

"Are you in pain? What is it? Shall I 'phone for the doctor?"

"No, no. No use gettin' the doctor. I'll be all right by and by. It's one of my attacks. I have 'em every once in a while. Just let me alone, and let me lay here without bein' disturbed; then I'll get better, I guess."

"But it's so sudden!"

"I know. They always come on that way. Now run along, like a good feller, and leave me to my suff'rin's. O-oh, dear!"

Much troubled, Brown turned to the door. As he was going out he happened to look back. The dresser stood against the wall beyond the bed, and in its mirror he caught a glimpse of the face of the sick man. On that face, which should have been distorted with agony, was a broad grin.

Brown found the little Stover man waiting for him in the kitchen.

"Be you ready?" he asked.

"Ready?" repeated Brown, absently. "Ready for what?"

"Why, to show us round the lights. Sophi, she ain't never seen one afore. Atkins said that, bein' as he wasn't able to leave his bed, you'd show us around."

"He did, hey?"