Here Mrs. Patten, looking like one of those witches we see in the play of Macbeth, not even lacking the long pole, made her appearance about as mysteriously as those witches do.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “since the hour of peril has gone past, and you must be fatigued by your exertions, I hope that you will take shelter from the rain in my poor mansion. You shall be welcome to such humble hospitality as I can offer you.”
They were nearly in darkness now, having only such light as came from the frequent flashes overhead.
The sailor thanked her politely. “I shall be glad if you can lend me a lantern,” he said; “for I want to get through to Mr. Marvin’s as soon as I can. Somebody is there waiting for me.”
Mrs. Patten led the way, and the others followed. In the semi-darkness, a smaller figure, which Captain Cary had not noticed before, came close to his side, and slipped a hand in his arm; and the “somebody” who should have been waiting for him at Mr. Marvin’s said quietly, “You see, I cannot walk very well without help, for I have lost one of my slippers.”
The sailor’s heart had not given such a jump when the burning tree fell and just missed him, as it gave at the sound of that voice.
“You here!” he exclaimed. “What did you come for?”
“To see the fire,” replied Miss Yorke.
“And you are barefoot?”