“Are we all ready,” he growled. “Eh? Who's that comin'? Oh, it's you. Well, set down and keep quiet.”
It was Mr. Bloomer who had re-entered the room and was received so unceremoniously. He glanced at Galusha Bangs, winked the eye which the captain could not see, and sat down next to Primmie.
“Now then,” said Captain Jeth, who was evidently master of ceremonies, “if you're all ready, Marietta, I cal'late we are. Cast off! Heave ahead!”
But Miss Hoag seemed troubled; evidently she was not ready to cast off and heave ahead.
“Why—why, Cap'n Jeth,” she faltered, “I CAN'T. Don't you KNOW I can't? Everybody's got to take hands—and the lights must be turned way down—and—and we've GOT to have some music.”
The captain pulled his beard. “Humph!” he grunted. “That's so, I forgot. Don't know what's the matter with me to-night, seem to be kind of—of upset or somethin'. Zach, turn them lamps down; more'n that, way down low.... That'll do. Now all hands hold hands. Make a—a kind of ring out of yourselves. That's it. Now what else was it, Marietta?”
“Music,” faltered Miss Hoag, who seemed rather overawed by the captain's intensity and savage earnestness. “We always have music, you know, to establish the—the contact. Have somebody play the organ. 'Phelia, you play it; you know how.”
Miss Ophelia Beebe, sister of the village storekeeper, was a tall, angular woman garbed in black. Her facial expression was as mournful as her raiment. She rose with a rustle and moved toward the ancient melodeon. Lulie spoke hurriedly.
“No, no, Ophelia,” she protested, “it isn't any use. That old thing has been out of order for—why, for years. No one could possibly play on it. No one has for ever and ever so long. Father knows it perfectly well.”
Again Captain Jethro tugged at his beard.