It was after one of these hasty departures that he was now returning. He strolled along the lower streets of the town, his fun-loving eyes rolling inquiringly at every one he met, his hands in the pockets of his short nautical jacket, his elbows swaying gently like two pectoral fins propelling him through the air, until he arrived below the old stone mansion, when he drew his hands from his pockets, ran briskly up the three short flights of steps, and rang the bell.
"How de do, Mary," he said, briefly, to the maid when she opened the door.
Upon ordinary occasions he never spoke to her. This greeting was reserved for the important event of his return from a voyage.
Mary smiled, and, not daring to return his salutation lest she should incur a reprimand from the highest authority in the house for undue familiarity with the masculine part of it, made haste to disappear down a back stairway.
Captain White shook himself, thereby scattering a shower of wet on the oil-cloth of the floor, hung up his cap, and walked down the hall to the dining-room.
"I'll find them just the same as usual, I suppose," he muttered, giving a slap to his sleek head that always looked as if he had just dipped it in water, "same old table, same old chairs around it, same old fire, same old girl with same old stocking or same old death-book."
He opened the door. Yes, there she sat, her thick hair parted decently in the middle, her black gown decently disposed about her portly figure, her lips decently compressed, her fingers clicking the needles of the knitting with which she invariably disciplined or amused herself during the successive evenings of her life, her eyes fixed on her son, who sat in a loose coat and carpet slippers, diligently reading the evening paper as Captain White had seen him read it a thousand times before.
The very fire was crackling as it had crackled ever since he had had acquaintance with this hearthstone. He could even tell the hour of the evening by it, for Mrs. Prymmer from motives of economy always started it with wood but continued it with coal. It was now just eight o'clock, for the wood was nearly gone. A match had been touched to it at seven precisely, and at a quarter to eight a shovelful of coal had been lifted on it by the careful hand of his cousin.
"Well, Micah," she said, deliberately, "you have got back."
Captain White did not answer her. It did not seem worth while to confirm a statement that bore truth on the face of it, and moreover he, though a man possessing a fair amount of composure, was completely dumbfounded by his discovery of a curious addition to this hitherto contracted family circle.