“Oh, we’re in no hurry, please,” put in Billie, turning from one of the small-paned, outward-opening windows that looked straight out upon the ocean. “I think this is the darlingest room I ever saw. I could spend days and days just looking around here.”
Connie’s Uncle Tom stood six feet two in his stocking feet and was broad in proportion. He had a shock of reddish brown hair that was becoming slightly streaked with gray, but his face was clean shaven. His features were rugged, rather than handsome, but his eyes were large and red-brown to match his hair and with an everlasting humor in them that made everybody love him who knew him.
And now he stood looking down at Billie’s pretty, eager face, and, though his face was grave, his eyes were laughing as usual.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I do. But then, I have to.”
“I should think you’d want to,” Billie shot back. “Why, I am sure I would just love to live here myself——”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Uncle Tom interrupted, taking up his pipe and puffing at it thoughtfully. “It’s mighty nice in the day time, I’ll admit. Then it’s a mighty pretty, homey place. But at night, especially on a stormy night, it’s different. The wind wails round here like a tortured ghost, the waves beat upon the rock foundation of the tower like savage beasts trying to tear it apart, and the tower itself seems to quiver and tremble. And you start to wonder—” the girls had gathered closer to him, for his voice was grave and his eyes had stopped laughing—“about the ships away out there in the fury of the storm, some of them crippled, distressed, sinking perhaps. And you get to thinking about the men and women, and little children maybe, on board and wondering how many will be alive when the storm dies down. I tell you it grips you by the throat, it makes your eyes ache with pity, and you curse the storm that’s bringing disaster along with it.”
His hands were clenched, his face was hard and stern, and the girls felt thrilled, stirred, as they had never been before. But suddenly he jumped to his feet, went over to the window and stood there looking out for a moment. And when he came back he was smiling so naturally that the girls caught themselves wondering if they had not dreamed what had gone before.
“I didn’t mean to give you a lecture,” he told them gayly. And with strange reluctance they shook off the spell and smiled with him. “Come on, let’s take a look at the tower, and then I’ll give you some clam chowder. Would you like some clam chowder?”
They were too fresh from breakfast to be wildly enthusiastic even over clam chowder just then, but they knew the time would come soon when they would be hungry again, so they assented happily and followed the broad back of Uncle Tom up the winding tower steps.
They exclaimed over the tower room, and the wonderful revolving light, but the thing that charmed them most was the platform that completely encircled the tower.