Janet of the Dunes

by Harriet T. Comstock

James B. had learned, in his secret way, that Captain Billy had been told, when he went for the physical examination at Bay End in September, that his heart wasn't up to the requirement. A lesser man would have been dropped from government duty with such a handicap as that, but the physician, knowing Billy and his steady life and good record, passed him for another year.

James B., like a vulture, had been hoping for a place on the crew for many a day. The hope gave an excuse for idleness. Eliza Jane knew Billy's symptoms and was willing to countenance James B.'s indifference to other business propositions of a steady nature, while that possibility of the crew was apparent. However, there was no reason why James B. should not turn a penny in a temporary way at Bluff Head, while waiting; and that Eliza Jane insisted upon.

"But," sighed James B. as Mr. Devant stayed on, "if he would only go, then like as not Eliza Jane would let up on me 'bout laborin' while I'm waitin'."

This state of affairs became known to Janet through the tactless remarks of Mark Tapkins. She went at once to Billy to find out exactly what the doctor had said. Billy, from the highest moral position, prevaricated nobly, and left the girl with the impression that the condition of the suspected heart was really very desirable.

"It's this way," he explained, "all hearts is tricky, an' once ye know the tricks, why, there ain't no danger. It's like knowin' the weak p'ints of a vessel, ye ain't goin' t' strain the weak p'ints, once ye know 'em, an' like as not the vessel'll last twice as long as a seemin' sound boat. Don't ye fret, Janet, James B. can loaf a considerable spell, if it's my goin' he's dependin' 'pon. An' no one more'n James B. will be thankfuller fur my hangin' on."

Davy's funeral calls had had a beneficial effect upon the community. More than one woman said afterward that it looked as if Susan Jane's mantle had fallen upon Davy's shoulders.

"He said t' me!"—and Mrs. Jo G.'s catlike eyes glittered,—"he said as how t' his mind a gossiper was like a jellyfish, sort o' slimy an' transparent, an' when you went t' clutch it, it stung! I asked him right out flat footed what he meant, an' he told me t' think it over!"

More than Mrs. Jo G. thought Davy's words over, and, as a result, turned their attention to getting ready for the winter.

The oyster boats dotted the bay. The wood was piled near the kitchen doors, and the Methodist minister, with a sigh of relief, came down from the mental pinnacle upon which he had endeavored during the summer to attract strangers, and preached sermons from his heart to the hearts of the Quintonites. A donation party was in the air, too, and the needy pastor grew eloquent along generous, ethical lines.

Eliza Jane, in a detached and injured manner, continued to cook up at Bluff Head. The master, feeling that at least he paid for the necessity, ate in peace; but Saxton, who fell between the aristocracy of Devant's ideas and the Quintonite ideal, suffered cruelly from his plebeian position. Only a vague hope of city life and pleasures held him to his position. And Devant was undecided as to what he should do. Thornly had not "looked him up" after seeing Katharine. Indeed, that rigid young man had sailed, within the week, for Point Comfort, and Devant, fearing to meet Katharine alone, had hurried back to Bluff Head, there to be confronted by his Past in a most crushing manner. So unlooked for and appalling was the resurrected ghost, that it had stunned him and left him unable to act. He feared to make a false move and waited for Janet to point out the way. But the girl remained upon the dunes with Billy, and the bay seemed an impassable barrier between them and Bluff Head.