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His mind was again in the palmetto clearing, and he was standing by Dory's grave in the sand, and a little child was holding his hand, and looking at him with eyes which had in them something of the same expression which had once quickened his pulse, and made his heart beat with a thrill he fancied was love, but which had died almost as soon as it was born.
But I ain't goin' to up anchor fer Chatham. She may hold." The wind, which had hauled round, rose at sundown and blew steadily. There was not enough sea, though, to disturb even a dory's tackle, but the Carrie Pitman was a law unto herself. At the end of the boys' watch they heard the crack-crack-crack of a huge muzzle-loading revolver aboard her. "Glory, glory, hallelujah!" sung Dan.
The wet, red side of a dory's bow pushed past his laboring shoulder. A hand clutched his shirt collar. He reached up and grasped the boat's gunwale, hung on with all his weight, threw one leg over the edge, and tumbled into the dory's bottom. "Thanks," he panted, his eyes shut. "That was about the closest call I ever had. Hey? Why! She was panting, also, but she was not looking at him.
"Dory's dead," she moaned, and subsided into her shawl and cap, with a faint kind of cry. "Dory's dead," was repeated, in a voice very different from that of the old woman a child's clear, sweet voice and turning, Mr. Mason saw a little dark-haired, dark-eyed girl standing by Mandy Ann. Mr. Mason was fond of children, and stooping down he kissed the child, who drew back and hid behind Jake.
"Probably the girl's in the kitchen; and old Miss Skeffington is so deaf she couldn't hear," he thought. He had known the persons and the habits of that household from earliest boyhood. He followed the path round the house and thus came in sight of a small outbuilding at the far corner of the yard, on the edge of the bank overlooking and almost overhanging the river Dory's "workshop."
Jake was growing excited, and the Colonel nervous, as the negro continued: "It was too small for her, to be shue, but she thought a sight on't, but more of Miss Dory's good name." There was a great ridge in the Colonel's forehead, between his eyes, as he repeated, "Her good name?" "Yes, sar," Jake answered.
The two ran for-ward: Moran swung herself into the fo'castle hatch, and without using the ladder dropped to the deck below. In an instant her voice came up the hatch: "The bunks are empty they're gone abandoned us." She came up the ladder again. "Look," said Wilbur, as she regained the deck. "The dory's gone; they've taken it. It was our only boat; we can't get ashore."
He showed me, too, a second or third school reader, soiled and worn and pencil marked, and showing that it had been much used. "'This was Miss Dory's, he said; 'the one she studied de most, tryin' to learn, an' gettin' terribly flustered wid de big words.
You've spent some time with Peter Ruff. How much think carefully how much does he remind you of Spencer Fitzgerald?" "Not at all," she answered promptly. "Why, he is years older, and though Spencer was quite the gentleman, there's something about Mr. Ruff, and the way he dresses and knows his way about well, you can tell he's been a gentleman all his life." John Dory's face fell.
"What do they cost, Dan?" "Hills o' dollars. Fifteen thousand, p'haps; more, mebbe. There's gold-leaf an' everything you kin think of." Then to himself, half under his breath, "Guess I'd call her Hattie S., too." That was the first of many talks with Dan, who told Harvey why he would transfer his dory's name to the imaginary Burgess-modelled haddocker.
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