"Our cruise is up," said Tom Longstone, when the business had been completed.
"For the present, we have nothing to do; but I hope we shall soon receive our orders," replied Somers. "Now, Tom, you will go down to Pinchbrook with me, and spend a couple of months."
"Thank you, Jack; I hardly think I should know how to behave in a house on shore, it is so long since I have been in one."
"You will soon learn."
They went to Pinchbrook, and Tom received a welcome almost as cordial as that extended to Somers. The veteran was soon made entirely at home by his young friend's father, and such a "spinning of yarns" for thirty days had never been known before. Tom told a story of the Cumberland; then Captain Somers had a West India yarn; and gran'ther Greene was indulgently permitted to relate his experience in the "last war," though it was observed that the old man, whose memory was much impaired, always told the same story.
Never did a happier trio gather around a kitchen fire than that which sat around the cook-stove at Pinchbrook on those autumn mornings. Very likely Mrs. Somers thought the "men folks" were in the way at times; but, she was too much interested in the stories told, and too good natured to raise an objection, especially when John joined the party.
In the mean time, Somers was rapidly regaining his health and strength. As may be supposed, he was a lion in Pinchbrook, and was invited to every party and every merry-making in the place. Captain Barney was with him a great deal, and was as fond of him as though he had been his own son. Of course the young ladies of Pinchbrook regarded the lieutenant as a great man; and if it had not been known in town that he was "paying attention" to a commodore's daughter, he might have been absolutely persecuted by the fair ones of his native village.
In strict observance of his promise, Somers had written several letters to Kate Portington, but had received no answer. These epistles, with the exception of an occasional playful remark, were confined to the details of his naval operations. The events of his career were faithfully recorded, and they were in no sense such productions as many silly young men would have written under similar circumstances. No answer to any of them had been received.
Since his arrival at Pinchbrook, Somers had written two letters; but at the end of the first month of his furlough, he had not heard a word from Kate. He was troubled, and no doubt thought Kate was very cold and cruel. He knew that Pillgrim had not seen her, and therefore could not have prejudiced her against him. It was possible that his letters had not reached their destination; Kate might be away from home; and he was not willing to believe that anything had occurred to make her less friendly to him than formerly.
Somers, as we have so often had occasion to represent him, was always in favor of "facing the music." If there was anything the matter, he wanted to know it. If the lady wished to discontinue the acquaintance, he wanted to know that; and when he could no longer content himself in Pinchbrook, with the question unsettled, he started for Newport. On his arrival he proceeded at once to the residence of Commodore Portington. With a firm hand he rang the bell—in surprising contrast with his first visit, for now he was firm and decided.