Captain Ezra shook his head. “No, Rilly, fust mate; and I sure sartin hope thar’s none comin’.”
The next evening, when the old man came in to supper, he reported that the stifling air seemed, if anything, more hot and breathless, and also that clouds were gathering rapidly. “I reckon we’re glad o’ that,” was his comment. Then as he stood, looking out at the deepening twilight, he continued: “Thar’s heat lit’nin’ over to the west. Like’s not we’ll soon have a thunder storm. I sort o’ hope we will have one. ’Twill cool off this stiflin’ air an——”
The girl turned toward him, her face white.
“Oh, Grand-dad,” she implored, and her voice quivered, “I’m hopin’ it won’t come here with its crashin’ an’ threatenin’. I allays seem to hear it say, ‘Some day I’ll get——’”
The old man put his hand over the girl’s mouth as he said tenderly: “Rilly gal, don’t be talkin’ that way. What did yo’n I say ’tother day ’bout thar bein’ a skipper at the helm as we could trust. Didn’t yo’n I agree that his commands was allays for the best, whatever they seemed like to us? I reckon we’d better be rememberin’ it.”
Then, as he looked thoughtfully out at the storm-threatening sky, he said: “Fust mate, hold fast to that idee like it was your life preserver.”
Muriel clung to her grandfather, sobbing “I will, Grand-dad.”
The old man smoothed his “gal’s” hair, wondering vaguely at her fear and evident grief. Doctor Lem had said that Rilly had a very unusually active imagination and that they must be patient with her when they could not understand.
To change the girl’s thoughts the old man remarked: “I s’pose likely as not Lem landed in Tunkett today.”
“I hope so,” the girl replied, as she returned to the setting of the table for supper. Captain Ezra puffed on his corncob pipe a moment, then said: “I reckon he’ll be over long ’bout tomorrer. I snum I’ll be glad to see ol’ Lem. We two’s been sort o’ mates ever since we was young-uns. Lem, even as a boy, was straight as the mast o’ a schooner in all his doin’s.” For a few moments the old man smoked in silent thought. Then aloud: “I reckon Lem’s love would be the best port fer my gal to anchor in if—if——” Instantly the girl’s arms were around his neck. “Grand-dad,” she implored, “don’ say it. You’re goin’ to live’s long as I do, an’ longer, like’s not.” Then, as an ominous rumbling of thunder pealed in the distance, Muriel held him closer. “Grand-dad,” she said, “it’s coming.”