The sailor looked at the girl gratefully, as a dog might have done. The young man's heart went out to her, too, for her kindly championship of the older man. He was glad, indeed, that she had found a way to dispel his anger, for the lieutenant was a kind-hearted young fellow, and would have all others about him happy, especially in this beginning of his romance.
"Well," he said, generously, "perhaps I did speak rather harshly of the ship. You see I hardly realized how you all love the old thing, and indeed 'tis a fine, melancholy old picture."
"It always reminds me of grandfather and Captain Barry—old on the one hand, strong on the other," responded Emily, divining the instinct of consideration in his heart that had prompted Revere's words, and smiling graciously at him.
It was reward enough for him, he thought, as he returned her approving glance with interest.
"You called me, Miss Emily," said the uncompromising Barry, speaking at last. "Do you want me?"
"Yes; I am going over to the village, and I wish you to row me across the harbor."
"By no means, Miss Emily," broke in Revere, promptly. "I claim that honor for myself."
"Do you think you are quite strong enough to do it?"
"Strong enough!" he exclaimed. "Certainly I am! I should like nothing better. Besides, I have business in the town myself: I expect answers to some letters and my man with a portmanteau and some other clothes. I should be delighted to row you to the village or anywhere."
"Well," said Emily, hesitating, "Captain Barry always rows me and——"