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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Thank you for nothing, Peter Loud!" he cried, and these again were the very words Cad Sills had hurled at him when he had saved her life at Pull-an'-be-Damned. "That's as you say," said Deep-water Peter. "You have done your worst now," said Jethro. "If I find you here again I will shoot you down like a dog." Peter laughed very bitterly.
He trembled like a leaf. "Pull-an'-be-Damned," said Deep-water Peter. "The Cap'n's gone. He didn't come away. Men can say what they like of Sam Dreed; he wouldn't come into the boat. I'll tell all the world that."
He was pushing forward, near sundown, to take the impulse of an eddy at the edge of Pull-an'-be-Damned when he saw that predatory, songful woman balanced knee-deep in rushing water, her arms tossing. "She's drowning herself after her quarrel with Sam Dreed," was his first thought. He had just heard a fine tale of that quarrel. The truth was not quite so bold.
Caddie Sills sank across a thwart and shivered a little to mark the crowding together of white horses at the very place where she had stood. Contrary currents caused the tide to horse in strongly over Pull-an'-be-Damned. "What a ninny!" she whispered. "Was I sick with love, I wonder?" The harbor master answered with the motion of his oars.
How could he know that here, on Pull-an'-be-Damned, within a biscuit's toss of the weirs, Cad Sills had served the same fare to Rackby. He turned and ran, holding her close, and the tide hissed at his heels like a serpent.
The mother had played him false, as she had Jethro but with Peter these affairs were easier forgotten. Within the week, as he was striding over the bare flats of Pull-an'-be-Damned, he saw the flash of something white inside a weir. The sun was low and dazzled him. He came close and saw that this was Rackby's daughter.
But from the rim of the sea, where the surf was seen only as a white glow waxing and waning, a constant drone was borne in to them a thunder of the white horses' hoofs trampling on Pull-an'-be-Damned; the vindictive sound of seas falling down one after another on wasted rocks, on shifting sand bars a powerful monotone seeming to increase in the ear with fuller attention.
"She's a seafaring woman, that's certain. Next door to ending in a fish's tail, too, sometimes I think, when I see her carrying on Maybe you've seen her sporting with the horse-shoe crabs and all o' that at Pull-an'-be-Damned?" "No, I can't say that." "No, it wasn't to be expected, you with your head and shoulders walking around in a barrel of jam." The harbor master smiled wistfully.
Recollecting how they had watched the tide horse over Pull-an'-be-Damned thus, he said, eagerly, "Yes, yes, if so be 'tis a she," thinking nothing of the consequences of his promise. "Now I can go happy," murmured Cad Sills. "Where will you go?" said the harbor master, timorously, feeling that she was whirled out of his grasp a second time.
At this hour the heart of man may be powerfully stirred, by an anguish, a prayer, or perhaps a fragrance. The harbor master, uttering a brief cry, dropped to his knees and remained mute, his arms extended toward the sea in a gesture of reconcilement. On that night the Sally Lunn, Cap'n Sam Dreed, was wrecked on the sands of Pull-an'-be-Damned.
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