“Well?” said Uncle Silas.
“Oh! I 've nothing to say,” said Captain Bennett
“Nor I,” said Uncle Silas.
“Calvin's always seemed to be a good-hearted fellow,” said Captain Philo, “since he's lived here.”
“Oh, yes,” said Captain Bennett; “seems to feel for David surprisingly. Told me all about the losing of the money, told my wife, told my boy, told Uncle Joe, told our minister, told the Doctor, told Zimri Cobb, told Cyrus Bass, told Captain John Wells, told Patrick Coan; and proves it out to 'em all that 't was the Jew that did it.”
“Kind of zealous, like the Apostle Paul supplying the pulpit to the Gentiles,” said the Deacon; “won't let alone of a man, till he gives in 't the Hebrew's in the wrong.”
“But I 've nothing to say,” said Captain Bennett.
“Oh, no, nor I,” said Uncle Silas.
From the distance, borne on the gentle breeze, a click as even as a pulse-beat came faintly over the water.
“He may be a good-hearted fellow,” said the Deacon, “but I don't know as I hanker to be the man that's pulling that skiff. But then,—that may be simply and solely because I prefer a hair-cloth rocker to a skiff.”