“Er—er—what was that?” queried Mr. Hamilton. “I didn't exactly seem to catch that, somehow or 'nother.”
Judge Baxter turned to the Captain.
“You understood me, didn't you, Captain Gould?” he asked.
Shadrach shook his head.
“Why—why, no,” he stammered; “it didn't seem to soak in, somehow. Cal'late my head must have stopped goin'; maybe the shock I had a spell ago broke the mainspring. All I seem to be real sartin of just now is that the Campbells are comin'. What was it you said?”
“I said that Captain Marcellus Hall has left whatever property he owned, after his creditors are satisfied, to his stepdaughter. He has left it in trust until she becomes of age. And he asks you two to accept that trust and the care of the child. Is that plain?”
It was plain and they understood. But with understanding came, apparently, a species of paralysis of the vocal organs. Zoeth turned pale and leaned back in his chair. Shadrach's mouth opened and closed several times, but he said nothing.
“Of course,” went on Baxter, “before I say any more I think you should be told this: It was Captain Hall's wish that you jointly accept the guardianship of Mary-'Gusta—of the girl—that she live with you and that you use whatever money comes to her from her stepfather's estate in educating and clothing her. Also, of course, that a certain sum each week be paid you from that estate as her board. That was Marcellus's wish; but it is a wish, nothing more. It is not binding upon you in any way. You have a perfect right to decline and—”
Captain Shadrach interrupted.
“Heave to!” he ordered, breathlessly. “Come up into the wind a minute, for mercy sakes! Do you mean to say that me and Zoeth are asked to take that young-one home with us, and take care of her, and dress her, and—and eat her, and bring her up and—and—”