Yes, it was. The rustle in the circle was now so pronounced as to amount almost to a disturbance. Mr. Abel Harding whispered audibly, “It's Nelson Howard she means, don't she?” His wife even more audibly ordered him to “shut up, for the land sakes.” Primmie dropped the mouth organ on the floor with a metallic clatter. Startled, she made her customary appeal to the ruler of Israel.
“It's him, eh?” growled the light keeper. “I thought so. I've got my eye on him, Julia, and he knows it. What's he up to now? Where is he?”
“Near her.”
“Near her? Here?... In this HOUSE, do you mean?”
A moment's hesitation, and then, “Ye-es, I—I shouldn't wonder.”
This bit of information, even though unusually qualified considering its spirit source, caused a genuine sensation. Almost every one said something. Zach Bloomer whistled shrilly in Mr. Bangs' ear and said, “Godfreys!” Galusha said, “Oh, dear me!” with distressful emphasis. Martha Phipps and Lulie clutched each other and the latter uttered a faint scream. Primmie Cash, who had stooped to pick up the dropped harmonica, fell on her knees beside it. Captain Jethro stamped and roared for silence.
“Be still!” he shouted. “Stop! STOP! By the everlastin', I'll—I'll—Julia! Julia!”
But Julia did not answer this time. Neither did Little Cherry Blossom. Whether Miss Hoag was frightened at the effect of her message or whether she figured that she had caused sensation sufficient for one day are matters for conjecture. At all events she stirred in her chair and announced faintly, and in her natural, everyday tones and accent, that she wished a drink of water.
“Where—where be I?” she gasped. “I—Oh, fetch me a drink, somebody, won't you, please?”
The light keeper, paying no need whatever, was shouting his wife's name.