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Updated: June 27, 2025
She did not often look like that, fortunately, for it made her almost ugly. And though her face cleared a little after a while, still it was gloomy, like the darkening sky outside, when she followed Alie downstairs to tea, after they had taken off their things and the torn frock had been changed. Things had hardly got into their regular order yet at Seacove Rectory.
The four friends from Seacove knew exactly where they were to be all through the battle if they lived. Whistler knew that he was to stand in the corridor of the handling-room for Turret Number Two, until he was called to relieve some wounded or exhausted member of his gun crew. His immediate order was to "stand by."
It was a bookseller's and stationer's shop; the only one worthy of the name at Seacove. And Mr. Fairchild did a pretty good business, though certainly, as far as the actual book part of it was concerned, people read and bought far fewer books thirty years ago than now. And books were much dearer. People wrote fewer letters too; paper and envelopes were dearer also.
The blinds had been drawn down for some time in the back parlour behind Mr. Fairchild's shop in Pier Street, the principal street in the little town of Seacove. And the gas was lighted, though it was not turned up very high. It was a great thing to have gas; it had not been known at Seacove till recently. For the time of which I am writing is now a good many years ago, thirty or forty at least.
It was not done rudely, and indeed it was only natural that the arrival of a new rector and his family at Seacove should attract a good deal of attention, considering that old Dr. Bunton and his wife had been fixtures there for more years than Mr. Vane himself had been in the world. 'Oh yes, said Rough in an off-hand way, 'I can ask any one. But we may as well walk on a little and look about us.
"What is your name, young man?" asked the manager, eying the boy with interest. Whistler told him. "Dr. Morgan's son, from Seacove? Come in," and Whistler was ushered inside and the heavy door was again barricaded. "We have to keep locked up here like a fortress at night," said Mr. Santley. "Come in and let me hear what you have to say, young man. What do you know about Mr. Blake?"
If a destroyer is "a tin box built around a mighty big engine," the term even more nearly fits one of these chasers. The four Navy boys from Seacove were amazed by the quickness with which she got under way and the brief time it took to tune her up to top-notch speed. "She's a hundred and ten feet long," said Mr.
The four friends from Seacove learned that every enlisted man and apprentice they talked with was assigned to the Kennebunk, and immediately all fraternized. At noon time the bluejackets marched up town in a body to Yancey's and flocked into that eating place like a swarm of hungry locusts.
"We ought to tell somebody," declared Frenchy. "Let's be sure we tell the right person," Whistler advised. "Come on now and get some supper. We've an hour to wait for a train to Seacove." They marched up the main street of the port. The fog was not so thick inshore here.
The car started under Torry's careful guidance, and they quickly whisked around the corner into the main street of Seacove, the small port in which the chums had been born and had lived all their lives until they had enlisted as seamen apprentices in the Navy not many months before. They passed the little cottage in which Mrs. Hertig, Seven Knott's mother, lived.
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