He arrived soon afterward, having bicycled over from South Wellmouth. Primmie arrived also and bursts of her energetic conversation, punctuated by grumblings in Mr. Bloomer's bass, drifted in from the kitchen. Supper was a happy meal. Young Howard, questioned by Martha and Lulie—the latter evidently anxious to “show off” her lover—told of his experiences aboard one of Uncle Sam's transports and the narrow escape from a German submarine. Galusha, decoyed by Miss Phipps, was led into Egypt and discoursed concerning that marvelous country. Lulie laughed and chatted and was engagingly charming and vivacious. Martha was her own cheerful self and the worried look disappeared, for the time, from her face.
After supper was over, the ladies helped Primmie clear the table while the men sat in the sitting room and smoked. The sitting room of the light keeper's home was even more nautical than that at the Phipps' place. There was no less than six framed paintings of ships and schooners on the walls, and mantel and what-not bore salt-water curios of many kinds handed down by generations of seafaring Halletts—whales' teeth, little ships in bottles, idols from the South Sea islands, bead and bone necklaces, Eskimo lance-heads and goodness knows what. And below the windows, at the foot of the bluff on the ocean side, the great waves pounded and muttered and growled, while high above the chimneys of the little house Gould's Bluffs light thrust its flashing spear of flame deep into the breast of the black night.
It was almost half past eight when Martha Phipps, whose seat was near the front window of the sitting room, held up a warning hand.
“Listen!” she cried. “Isn't that an automobile comin'?”
It undoubtedly was. Apparently more than one motor car was approaching along the sandy road leading from the village to the lighthouse.
“Who in the world is it?” asked Martha, drawing aside the window shade and trying to peer out. “Lulie, you don't think it can be—”
Lulie looked troubled, but she shook her head.
“No, it can't be,” she declared. “The seance was to be away over in Trumet and it is sure to last hours. They couldn't have gone as far as that and—”
She was interrupted. From the dining room came the sound of rushing feet. Primmie burst into the room. She was wildly excited.
“My Lord of Isrul, Miss Martha!” she cried. “It's them come back. It is, it is, it is!”