"Ah, how sad! how sad! And have he not hear of this trouble?" "I do not know; not unless he got the word I sent by Captain Smalley. But, you see, his smack may not have sighted the Nautilus at all. It seems as if father would have tried hard to come, if he had heard," she added, her eyes growing misty; "we need him so!"
"Poor child, poor little one!" murmured the lady in her own language, then in English, "But what is it you speak,—the 'long fish'? Do not all your ships return each Saturday?"
"No; not now. That's the way they do at many of the fishing-villages, I have heard, but we are a long way from the Banks, and there's Mare's Head, which every vessel must round to make our harbor, so dangerous a point that our fleets used scarcely ever to get by all in safety; for when a man is hurrying home to his own fireside on a stormy Saturday night, he is not as careful as he should be. So now our boats stay out through the season, and when they have a big haul put into Gloucester or Annisquam to sell their fish, only bringing home such as they cannot find a market for. It saves many wrecks, and they make more money, but it is often hard on those left at home!"
"Yes, yes, that is true, I make no doubt! But do you live here quite alone, you and the babee?"
"Oh, no; there are my brother and sister,—the twins. Morton is the one I spoke of; he has gone gunning with Uncle Adam Standish, and the young man who must be your nephew, I'm sure; and Molly has gone on an errand."
"That Morton—it ees one fine boy! His air do say, 'Behold the American citizen in me!' is it not?"
Sara smiled and sighed.
"He is a good boy, and my mainstay now, for it is hard sometimes to manage for so many; but will you not please tell me some more about the King's Daughters, madame?"
Her new friend, nothing loath, went into further details of that marvellous organization, telling of the silver cross, which was a passport to the best society and gentlest treatment the world over; describing its growth by tens, its circles within circles, its active benevolences and astonishing influence—all that of which the world has been hearing, almost as a child listens to a fairy-tale, with wonder and delight, yet only half credulous.
She also promised to send her copies of those beautiful stories, "Ten Times One," and "In His Name," which first gave rise to the grand idea; and when she finally made her adieus, it was to leave Sara in a happy dream, filled with new hopes, desires, and resolutions, all petty cares for the time being quite forgotten!