“Well, so do horrid things end,” announced Madeline philosophically. “Everything ends, and how dull life would be if it didn’t. Besides, we’re going back to spring term.”
“Yes,” agreed Betty. “That’s my one comfort. I couldn’t stand it to jump away back into winter again.”
“And some time we’re all coming back to Nassau,” added Mary Brooks.
“How do you know?” asked Betty absently.
“Why, because we drank out of Blackbeard’s Well. If you do that you are perfectly sure to come back.”
“Was that the reason you made me drink that horrid water this morning?” laughed Betty. “I went up-stairs to get something that mother had forgotten, and when I came back you were all down in a corner of the garden drinking that warm, sickish water; but I hadn’t the least idea why you were doing it. Who was Blackbeard, and why does drinking out of his well make you sure to come back?”
“I don’t know why,” said Mary. “It’s some sort of a spell, I suppose. Your father heard about it and told us. Blackbeard was a pirate who buried his treasure here and watered his ships at that spring. He must have been Bluebeard’s cousin, because Dr. Eaton said he had fourteen wives.”
“Poor things!” sighed Betty. “Well, I only hope that the spell will work. And now I must go down-stairs this minute to see if I can do anything for Ethel or Roberta. I suppose they’re getting ready to be seasick.”
“Eleanor Watson has gone,” said Mary. “How that girl has changed, Betty. She never used to be happy unless she was at the centre of the stage, and now she’s as retiring as Helen Chase Adams.”