The heroic act of Paul, in saving the life of Carrie Littleton, was the principal topic of conversation in Bayville for the next week. Of course it was the unanimous vote of the people that Paul was a hero, and there was some talk of giving him a complimentary dinner, and making speeches at him; but the good sense of the strong-minded men and women of the place prevailed, and he was not treated with the honors that turn the head of a third-rate politician. But everybody thought something ought to be done, and after a full week had passed by, everybody wondered that Captain Littleton did not do something; that he did not make Paul a present of a gold medal, or give him a check for a hundred dollars. The gossips could not find out that he had done anything more than thank Paul, with tears of gratitude in his eyes, for the noble service he had rendered him. The captain had the reputation of being a very liberal man, but the glory of his good name seemed to be rapidly passing away.
Paul attended to his business as usual, and seemed to give but little heed to the compliments that were showered upon him. When any one spoke to him about his gallant deed, he tried to turn it off, declared he had only done his duty, as sentimental heroes generally do, and he did not think he had done any very great thing, after all. But notwithstanding all this seeming indifference, Paul was proud of the act that had made him famous. He was conscious that he had done a noble deed; and his own heart assured him he deserved the praise which was so liberally bestowed upon him.
Above all, he was grateful for the opportunity of serving Captain Littleton, who had been so kind to him and to his mother. He was happy in the thought of having saved that darling child from a watery grave, and he had given the fond father a good reason for being his friend as long as he lived. Paul never thought of any reward; he hoped Captain Littleton would not give him anything, for that would deprive him of one half the satisfaction the act had afforded him.
Another week passed by, and still, to the astonishment and disgust of the gossips of Bayville, Captain Littleton took no further notice of Paul's heroic deed. Mrs. Green, who was Mrs. Duncan's nearest neighbor, ventured to suggest that the captain was a mean man, and she wouldn't have thought it of him.
"What would you have him do?" asked Paul, to whom Captain Littleton's reputation was as dear as that of his mother, or even of his dead father.
"What would I have him do?" repeated the old lady. "Why, he ought to give you a hundred dollar bill, all for your own. At least he ought to give you fifty."
"I don't want anything, Mrs. Green," said Paul stoutly.
"That's nothing to do with it. He could just offer it—couldn't he? He is a rich man, and a hundred dollars is no more to him than a hundred cents to me. It is downright mean, there."
"I don't think so, marm. Captain Littleton has done everything he could for mother and for me, and I'm sure I was glad to have a chance to do something for him."