They listened, but Barry had gone far enough away by that time for them not to hear him more.
"'Twas nothing, dearest," answered Revere, holding her tenderly to him; "a piece of timber, a loosened plank, a tottering frame. The newest and best of ships are full of strange sounds, much more these old ones."
"Bit by bit it wears away," said the girl, sadly.
"Ay, sweet, old things go, but new ones come," answered Revere. "Life ends, yes, but new life begins. It begins for us. Come. We have told the ship the story. Let us go back to the hill."
"Keep thou the secret, old ship," said Emily, fancifully, yet half in earnest; "tell it not while thou livest, and if thou must fall, let it perish with thee."
She bent and kissed the plank. Where she kissed it Barry had listened. The whisper of love and the oath of despair,—a few inches of sheathing alone divided them.
CHAPTER XV
Forgiveness the First Lesson
"That kiss, sweetest," said Revere, gravely, as they walked up the hill, "has made the ship immortal in my heart. It shall stand until it falls away. I was sent here by the government to sell the ship. It was to be destroyed."