“Wal, I guess it was!” drawled the Captain. “Everybody ought to learn to talk English—eh, Gilda?”
The girls listened open-mouthed to the story which none of them had ever heard before. It was not an unusual tale, perhaps; they may have read something like it. But to think that this was true, and that it had happened right out on these very rocks which they could see this minute, and that this old man, their friend, was the real hero of it! Anne, sitting with the rabbit in her lap, soon forgot even Plon. As the story went on her cheeks grew red and her eyes grew bright. It seemed as if she were acting out the story, too. When Cap’n Sackett stopped abruptly, she gave a gasp.
“Oh!” she cried. “How splendid! What next?”
The Captain glanced at her as if he were more pleased by this word than by anything else. Was it just because she was the Golden Girl? That did not seem like Cap’n Sackett.
“You like to hear about the sea, don’t ye, Anne?” he said gently. “Used to when ye were a little kid. You ask ‘what next?’ Why, there wasn’t any ‘next’ to speak of. I just went on sailin’, till I got sick. Then I lay-to a spell, here in the house my father built. He was a captain too; and so were his father and grandfather before him. But when a man gets rheumatiz he can’t command a ship any more. Too much depends on the captain. But I could ketch fish off and on. That’s what I did for a good many years before we had motor-boats to make it easier. It hasn’t been a kid-glove life, Anne. But I have kinder liked it.”
“What a pity you didn’t have a lot of little boys and girls to tell stories to!” exclaimed Norma with warm enthusiasm. “You make it so interesting.” The Captain’s face clouded.
“Ain’t it a pity?” he said. “I did have one little girl named Anna.” He gulped and then said with a gentle smile, “And now there’s Nelly,” he laid his hand affectionately on his niece’s red curls.
“He’s been so good to us,” said Aunt Polly. “After Nelly’s father died three years ago, he brought Nelly and me right home and treated us as if we were his own.”
“Well, ain’t ye my own?” chuckled Cap’n Sackett. “My own brother’s wife and child. I dunno how I ever got along without ye. You make this a home once more.” Thereupon Aunt Polly scuttled away into the next room, wiping her eyes on a corner of her apron.
“Let’s go home by the road; it’s shorter,” suggested Nancy, when they had said good-bye. “We don’t need to go through Mr. Poole’s place at all. He mightn’t like us to trespass,” she smiled mischievously at Anne.