Captain Cy was not, strictly speaking, a religious man, according to Bayport standards. Between his attendance to churchly duties and that of the Honorable Heman Atkins there was a great gulf fixed. But he rather liked to visit the graveyard on Sunday afternoons. His mother had been used to stroll there with him, in his boyhood, and it pleased him to follow in her footsteps.
So he and Bos"n walked along the gra.s.s-covered paths, between the iron-fenced "lots" of the well-to-do and the humble mounds and simple slabs where the poor were sleeping; past the sumptuous granite shaft of the Atkins lot and the tilted mossy stone which told how "Edwin Simpson, our only son," had been "accidentally shot in the West Indies"; out through the back gate and up the hill to the pine grove overlooking the bay. Here, on a scented carpet of pine needles, they sat them down to rest and chat.
Emily, her small knees drawn up and encircled by her arms, looked out across the flats, now half covered with the rising tide. It was a mild day, more like August than October, and there was almost no wind. The sun was shining on the shallow water, and the sand beneath it showed yellow, checkered and marbled with dark green streaks and patches where the weed-bordered channels wound tortuously. On the horizon the sand hills of Wellmouth notched the blue sky. The girl drew a long breath.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Isn"t this just lovely! I do like the sea an awful lot."
"That"s natural enough," replied her companion. "There"s a big streak of salt water in your blood on your ma"s side. It pulls, that kind of a streak does. There"s days when I feel uneasy every minute and hanker for a deck underneath me. The settin" room floor stays altogether too quiet on a day like that; I"d like to feel it heavin" over a ground swell."
"Say, Bos"n," he said a few minutes later; "I"ve been thinkin" about you. You"ve been to school, haven"t you?"
"Course I have," was the rather indignant answer. "I went two years in Concord. Mamma used to help me nights, too. I can read almost all the little words. Don"t I help you read your paper "most every night?"
"Sartin you do! Yes, yes! Well, our school opens to-morrer and I"ve been thinkin" that maybe you"d better go. There"s a new teacher comin", and I hear she"s pretty good."
"Don"t you KNOW? Why, Mr. Tidditt said you was the one that got her to come here!"
"Yes; well, Asaph says "most everything but his prayers. Still, he ain"t fur off this time; I cal"late I was some responsible for her bein" voted in. Yet I don"t really know anything about her. You see, I--well, never mind. What do you think? Want to go?"
Bos"n looked troubled.
"I"d like to," she said. "Course I want to learn how to read the big words, too. But I like to stay at home with you more."
"You do, hey? Sho, sho! Well, I guess I can get along between times.
Georgiana"s there to keep me straight and she"ll see to the dust and the dishes. I guess you"d better go to-morrer mornin" and see how you like it, anyhow."
The child thought for a moment.
"I think you"re awful good," she said. "I like you next to mamma; even better than Auntie Oliver. I printed a letter to her the other day. I told her you were better than we expected and I had decided to live with you always."
Captain Cy was startled. Considering that, only the day before, he had repeated to Bailey the declaration that the arrangement was but temporary, and that Betsy Howes was escaping responsibility only for a month or so, he scarcely knew what to say.
"Humph!" he grunted. "You"ve decided it, have you? Well, we"ll see. Now you trot around and have a good time. I"m goin" to have another smoke.
I"ll be here when you get back."
Bos"n wandered off in search of late golden rod. The captain smoked and meditated. By and by the puffs were less frequent and the cigar went out. It fell from his fingers. With his back against a pine tree Captain Cy dozed peacefully.
He awoke with a jump. Something had awakened him, but he did not know what. He blinked and gazed about him. Then he heard a faint scream.
"Uncle!" screamed Bos"n. "O--o--o--h! Uncle Cyrus, help me! Come quick!"
The next moment the captain was plunging through the scrub of huckleberry and bayberry bushes, b.u.mping into pines and smashing the branches aside as he ran in the direction of the call.
Back of the pine grove was a big inclosed pasture nearly a quarter of a mile long. Its rear boundary was the iron fence of the cemetery. The other three sides were marked by rail fences and a stone wall. As the captain floundered from the grove and vaulted the rail fence he swore aloud.
"By the big dipper," he groaned, "it"s that cussed heifer! I forgot her.
Keep dodgin", Bos"n girl! I"m comin"."
The pasture was tenanted by a red and white cow belonging to Sylva.n.u.s Cahoon. Whether or not the animal had, during her calfhood days, been injured by a woman is not known; possibly her behavior was due merely to innate depravity. At any rate, she cherished a mortal hatred toward human beings of her own s.e.x. With men and boys she was meek enough, but no person wearing skirts, and alone, might venture in that field without being chased by that cow. What would happen if the pursued one was caught could only be surmised, for, so far, no female had permitted herself to be caught. Few would come even so near as the other side of the pasture walls.
Bos"n had forgotten the cow. She had gone from one golden-rod clump to another until she had traversed nearly the length of the field. Then the vicious creature had appeared from behind a knoll in the pasture and, head down and bellowing wickedly, had rushed upon her. When the captain reached the far-off fence, the little girl was dodging from one dwarf pine to the next, with the cow in pursuit. The pines were few and Bos"n was nearly at the end of her defenses.
"Help!" she screamed. "Oh, uncle, where are you? What shall I do?"
Captain Cy roared in answer.
"Keep it up!" he yelled. "I"m a-comin"! Shoot you everlastin" critter!
I"ll break your back for you!"
The cow didn"t understand English it seemed, even such vigorous English as the captain was using. Emily dodged to the last pine. The animal was close upon her. Her rescuer was still far away.
And then the cemetery gate opened and another person entered the pasture. A small person--a woman. She said nothing, but picking up her skirts, ran straight toward the cow, heedless of the latter"s reputation and vicious appearance. One hand clutched the gathered skirts. In the other she held a book.
"Don"t be scared, dear," she called rea.s.suringly. Then to the cow: "Stop it! Go away, you wicked thing!"
The animal heard the voice and turned. Seeing that the newcomer was only a woman, she lowered her head and pawed the ground.
"Run for the gate, little girl," commanded the rescuer. "Run quick!"
Bos"n obeyed. She made a desperate dash from her pine across the open s.p.a.ce, and in another moment was safe inside the cemetery fence.
"Scat! Go home!" ordered the lady, advancing toward the cow and shaking the book at her, as if the volume was some sort of deadly weapon.
"Aren"t you ashamed of yourself! Go away! You needn"t growl at me! I"m not a bit afraid of you."
The "growling" was the muttered bellow with which the cow was wont to terrorize her feminine victims. But this victim refused to be terrorized. Instead of screaming and running she continued to advance, brandishing the book and repeating her orders that the creature "go home" at once. The cow did not know what to make of it. Before she could decide whether to charge or retreat, a good-sized stick descended upon her back with a "whack" that settled the question. Captain Cy had reached the scene of battle.
Then the rescuer"s courage seemed to desert her, for she ran back to the cemetery even faster than she had run from it. When the indignant captain, having pursued and chastised the cow until the stick was but a splintered remnant, reached the haven behind the iron fence, he found her soothing the frightened Bos"n who was sobbing and hysterical.
Emily saw her "Uncle Cyrus" coming and rushed into his arms. He picked her up and, holding her with a grip which testified to the nerve strain he had been under, stepped forward to meet the stranger, whose coming had been so opportune.
And she WAS a stranger. The captain knew most of Bayport"s inhabitants by this time, or thought he did, but he did not know her. She was a small woman, quietly dressed, and her hair, under a neat black and white hat, was brown. The hat was now a trifle to one side and the hair was the least bit disarranged, an effect not at all unbecoming. She was tucking in the stray wisps as the captain, with Bos"n in his arms, came up.
"Well, ma"am!" puffed Captain Cy. "WELL, ma"am! I must say that was the slickest, pluckiest thing ever I saw anywheres. I don"t know what would--I--I declare I don"t know how to thank you."
The lady looked at him a moment before replying. Then she began to laugh, a jolly laugh that was pleasant to hear.
"Don"t try, please," she said chokingly. "It wasn"t anything. Oh, mercy me! I"m all out of breath. You see, I had been warned about that cow when I started to walk this afternoon. So when I saw her chasing your poor little girl here I knew right away what was the matter. It must have been foolish enough to look at. I"m used to dogs and cats, but I haven"t had many pet cows. I told her to "go home" and to "scat" and all sorts of things. Wonder I didn"t tell her to lie down! And the way I shook that ridiculous book at her was--"
She laughed again and the captain and Bos"n joined in the laugh, in spite of the fright they both had experienced.
"That book was dry enough to frighten almost anything," continued the lady. "It was one I took from the table before I left the place where I"m staying, and a duller collection of sermons I never saw. Oh, dear!
. . . there! Is my hat any more respectable now?"
"Yes"m. It"s about on an even keel, I should say. But I must tell you, ma"am, you done simply great and--"
"Seems to me the people who own that cow must be a poor set to let her make such a nuisance of herself. Did your daughter run away from you?"
"Well, you see, ma"am, she ain"t really my daughter. Bos"n here--that"s my nickname for her, ma"am--she and I was out walkin". I set down in the pines and I guess I must have dozed off. Anyhow, when I woke up she was gone, and the first thing I knew of this sc.r.a.pe was hearin" her hail."