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Updated: August 12, 2024
In the distance there was a sail here and there, for the Rosan was slowly overhauling the fleet from Freekirk Head. Code stole a swift glance at her, and forgot to read his letter as he studied the fresh roundness and beauty of her face. He vaguely felt that there was a reserved manner between them. "The letter is from Mrs. Mallaby," he said. "Yes? That is interesting."
Here, then, in Freekirk Head were three hundred fishermen with their backs against the wall mutely brave because it is bred in the bone quietly preparing for a final stand against their hereditary enemies, hunger and poverty. The low murmur of awestruck conversation suddenly stopped, for Squire Hardy, with his fringe of white whiskers violently mussed, had risen to speak. "Mr.
"I wonder if Nat really loves her?" he asked himself. "And if not, why did he become engaged?" The home-coming of Captain Bijonah Tanner and his wife did not provide the thrill looked for by the more morbid inhabitants of Freekirk Head. In the excitement of the fire all hands had forgotten that cable communication between Mignon and the mainland was unbroken.
She knew she had solved the problem the instant the answer came. Elsa had been to Boston to school, and the fact was very evident. She sat and stared at the black letters, flexing the packet filled with bills. "Why should Elsa Mallaby be sending money to Code Schofield?" Everybody in Freekirk Head knew that Code Schofield went up to Elsa Mallaby's to dinner occasionally.
"Just like him," said Elsa in that tone of bitter hatred that Code had heard her use before when speaking of Burns. "He must have gone aboard the May and taken it, because you prized it so much. A fine revenge!" "Yes, but we don't do those things in Freekirk Head, Elsa. You know that. We don't steal from one another's trawl-lines, and we don't prowl about other men's schooners.
For a time the foam and whirl of her wake obscured matters, but all at once, as she plunged down into a great hollow between waves, her stern came clear and pointed to heaven. There, in bright letters that glinted in the sun and were easily visible at a much greater distance, was printed the name: CHARMING LASS OF FREEKIRK HEAD
"Thanks, Elsa," he said, gratefully. "How long have you thought that the schooner was a second 'one hoss shay'?" "Until this talk with you. I would never have thought anything else. It's the logical thing to think, isn't it? All my neighbors at Freekirk Head, except those who believe the evil they hear, have told me half a dozen times that that is what must have happened to the May.
If nothing comes out of this except ugly rumor that I have to suffer for, I'm going to quit minding my own business; and I'll dig up something that will drive Nat Burns out of Freekirk Head forever. "A man of his character and nature has certainly got something he doesn't want known, and I shall bring it to light and make it so public that he'll wish he had never heard the name Schofield.
This day Nat, in the M. C. Burns, raced Code Schofield in the May Schofield from Quoddy Head to moorings in Freekirk Head harbor. My boy had the worst of it all the way. I never saw such luck as that young Schofield devil has. He won by half an hour. Poor Nat is heartbroken and swore something awful. He says he'll win next time or know why!" "Just like old man Burns!" thought Code.
An hour later, when the cook had sent out his call for the first half, Code made Ellinwood stay on deck and bring the schooner to an anchorage after sounding. The sounding lead is a long slug, something like a window-weight, at the bottom of which is a saucer-shaped hollow. The leadsman, a young fellow from Freekirk Head, took his place on the schooner's rail outside the forerigging.
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