Mary drew close to the bed-side and leaned over to her confederate.
"The captain bes safe in the store, all rolled up in blankets," she whispered, "an'—an' I larned something last night that means as how we kin get 'em both away before long, wid luck. An' I played a trick on the skipper—so don't ye bes worryin' when he tells ye as how he's found the captain's boat. Give the word to the lass to keep her heart up. Sure, we'll be gettin' the two o' them safe out o' the harbor yet."
"An' where bes Denny now? How'd ye get into the house?" asked the old woman.
"He bes out in a skiff this very minute, a-lookin' at the captain's boat where it bes driftin' 'round the harbor. Sure, an' that bes just where I wants him. An' now I'll be goin', Mother Nolan dear, for I bain't wishin' Denny to catch me here a-whisperin' t'ye so early in the mornin' or maybe he'd get the idea into his head as how us two women bain't such harmless fools as what he's always bin takin' us for."
"Ye bes a fine girl, Mary Kavanagh," returned Mother Nolan, "an' I trusts ye to clear this harbor o' trouble. I'll be tellin' the good word to the poor lass inside this very minute. Her heart bain't all diamonds an' pride, after all, as she let us know last night, poor dear."
Mary left them, and a minute later met the skipper on his way up from the land-wash.
"I's found the boat the stranger come in," said the skipper.
"Sure, an' so ye would, Denny, if it was to be found," replied Mary.
The young man eyed her gloomily and inquiringly until she blushed and turned her face away from him.
"Ye talks fair, Mary," he said. "Ye talks as if ye was a friend o' mine; but ye bain't always actin' that same way, these days. Last night, now, ye an' granny was sure fightin' agin me! I seed ye bat Nick Leary wid the leg o' the chair—an' I seed that dacent old woman a-hangin' to Bill Brennen's whiskers like a wildcat to the moss on a tree."