“Yes. You must stay here all night, just as I told you.”
“Right you be. Send word to the old woman, that's all, if you can. Cal'late she's waitin' at the kitchen door with a rollin' pin, by this time.”
“I will send the word, Mr. Cahoon,” replied Miss Colton. “And—don't you think you could go home now, Mr. Paine? I know how exhausted you must be, after last night.”
“No home for me,” I answered, with assumed cheerfulness. “Admirals of Finance are expected to stick by the ship. I will lie down here on the couch and Phineas can call me if I am needed. Don't worry, Miss Colton. Go to your father and forget us altogether, if you can. If—if I should be needed for—for any other cause, please speak.”
She looked at me in silence for a moment. Then she came toward me and held out her hand. “I shall not forget, whatever else I may do,” she said, brokenly. “And I will speak if I need you, my friend.”
She turned hastily and went to the door.
“I will send word to your people as well as Mr. Cahoon's,” she added. “Try and sleep, if you can. Good night.”
The door closed behind her. Sleep! I was not likely to sleep. A man who has lighted the fuse of the powder magazine beneath him does not sleep much.