Janet of the Dunes Part 3

"By gum!"

"Yes. I can at least see things as they are. All I shall have to do is to learn to handle the brushes and mix the paint."

"By gum!"

"And, Cap'n David, I know what you all think. You think me a useless kind of girl, willing enough to hang on Cap'n Billy and take all he can give. And I know that you think him soft and, maybe, silly, because he hasn't been sterner with me. But you're all wrong! Cap'n Daddy and I haven't been wasting our time. We've got awfully close to each other while we've lived alone and had only ourselves. I've been thinking a long time of how I could help him best. I didn't want to come over and--and--what shall I say?--well, plunder the city folks. That's what every one is doing. Sometimes I'm sorry for them, the city folks. It seems like we ought to treat them more as visitors, than as s.h.i.+ps that have been tossed up."

"Lord!" spluttered David through his smoke; "they know how t' look after themselves."

"Yes, and when I think of that, I'm afraid of them. They'll get something out of us for all the money they spend. And, Davy, I don't want them to get it out of me!"

"Get it out of you!" David struck his pipe on the railing and the sparks fell into the night like a shower of stars. Janet nodded her head.

"Yes, get it out of me! All the same if I'm going to help make my living, this seems the only way, so I'm going in with the rest. But I want to choose my own path. Davy, did you ever see my mother? Of course you did! She was pretty, but I'm a lot better looking. Cap'n Billy's been telling me about her."

"Tellin' ye about her, all?" David asked faintly.

"Oh! I reckon not all; he was choking while he talked, and I hated to ask him particulars. How old was I when she died, Cap'n Davy?"

"Ye warn't no age at all, child; as yer little skiff hove int' sight, hers set sail. Ye didn't any more than hail each other in pa.s.sin'."

"Oh! tell me more, Davy."

"'T was an awful night ye chose, Janet. Wind off sea, an' howlin' like mad. Sleet an' rain minglin', an' porridge ice slammin' ont' sh.o.r.e!

Billy had the midnight patrol, an' fore he started out, he 'ranged that we should keep one eye out toward his cottage,--I happened t' be on that night,--an' if we saw a light in the lean-to winder, I was t' rouse Mrs.

Jo G. 'Long 'bout two, I saw the light, an' I made tracks for Mrs. Jo G.'s. The wind almost knocked us down as we set out for Billy's. I waited in the lean-to, an' Mrs. Jo G. she went int' the bedroom."

"Go on, Cap'n Davy. I wish I had known always about Mrs. Jo G. She didn't mind the storm? Somehow I never thought of her like that."

"'T was only human, Janet, her an' yer ma was the only females at the Station. 'Long 'bout four, Billy came a-staggerin' in. He had seen the light s.h.i.+nin' in the winder. He was coated over with ice, ice hangin' to his beard an' lashes, but Lord, how his eyes was glitterin'! I couldn't say a blessed thin'. Gum! there wasn't a thing t' say. I just gripped him like a looney, an' he gripped me, an' thar we stood a-starin' an'

a-staring'! 'Why don't ye go in?' I asked."

"And why didn't he?" Janet was struggling with an inclination to cry, "why didn't he?" David, fearing he had ventured upon dangerous ground, muttered:

"He said he couldn't! Them was his own words. Billy was always queer.

Just then Mrs. Jo G. came int' the living room. She had you--we didn't know it then, fur ye was just a round bundle--in her arms. Mrs. Jo G.

always speaks to the p'int when she does speak," Davy continued, "an'

all she said was, 'This is all that's left, Cap'n Billy--the mother's gone!'"

"Oh! my Cap'n!" murmured Janet; "and only to-night I have heard this!"

"Now don't take on, Janet!" David clumsily stroked the pretty head that had found a resting place upon the iron railing. "It was because Billy hated any takin' on that he kept mum. Him an' me an' Mrs. Jo G. we have always acted as if nothin' unusual had happened. Ye had a stormy voyage, child, an' Billy wanted that ye should have calm, while he was in control."

"Oh! Cap'n Billy, my poor old Daddy! And I've been a wild, uncaring girl, David. Never taking hold like the others! Just following Daddy about, and being a burden! And to think it was--it was boarders that aroused me! Oh! Davy, it makes me sick."

"Now see here, Janet!" David got up and walked twice around the little gallery. "I ain't a-sayin' but what ye ought t' be helpin' yerself an'

takin' anxiety off o' Billy: but I do say that it ain't goin' t' ease Billy any, if ye go gallivantin' off to the Hills with any fool notion that good looks is goin' t' help ye."

"They always help, Cap'n David, always!" Janet's a.s.sertion came through a m.u.f.fled sob. "You mustn't think I care for my looks myself. I'd just as soon be as peaked and blue-white as Mrs. Jo G.'s Maud, but I know pretty looks are just so much to the good--"

"Or bad!" broke in David.

"Well, have it that way. But it is according to how you use them. I'm going to use my good looks wisely!"

"By gum!" muttered David. This was his escape valve. When other words failed, "by gum" eased the tension. "Ye ain't much on looks, Janet, when ye come to that," he said presently. "Ye ain't tidy, nor tasty; ye ain't a likely promise fur what a handy woman ought t' be. Yer powerful breezy an' uncertain, an' yer unlike what folks is use t'."

"Davy!" Janet came in front of him and the light fell full upon her.

"Davy, you just listen and see how wise I am! Do you know why the city folks have come to Quinton? We never, at least not many of us, saw anything very splendid about the Hills, the dunes and the bay, now did we?"

"The fact is, we didn't!"

"Well, these people are wild about them because they are unlike the common things they are used to. I am like Quinton, Davy; I know it way down in my heart. You won't catch me fixing up like city folks and looking queer enough to turn you dizzy. Quinton and I are going to be true to ourselves, Davy, and you'll soon see if my looks do not help!"

"By gum!" sighed David; and remembering his vow to Billy to watch over this girl, he sighed again and ordered her below in no very gentle voice.

CHAPTER III

Janet was aroused the next morning by hearing Captain David creaking across the floor of the living room with his daily burden in his arms.

The girl was neither deep asleep nor wide awake. She was never uncertain of her whereabouts or ident.i.ty, once she had crossed the border land.

The early sun was creeping into the east window of her tiny room on one side of the living room of the lighthouse; on the opposite side was Captain David's sleeping apartment, into which he carried his helpless wife every evening before he had to go up aloft, and out of which he bore her to the chintz covered rocker, every morning after he had come below.

For ten long years David had known this sorrow; and he knew that it was to be his until Death spake the final word.

"It seems to me, David," the querulous voice was saying, "that the sun, up your way, rose mighty late to-day."

"There, there, Susan Jane, 't is the same old sun as rises an' sets fur all. Had a bad night, Susan Jane?"

"Bad night! that shows what sympathy you have for me, David. All my nights are bad. Bad as bad can be, unless they be worse!"

"Well, Susan Jane, let's hope that a bad night argers a good day. There!

are ye fixed, reasonably comfortable? P'r'aps the pillers ought' be a mite higher. How's that? An' now, if you want t' read a bit I'll fix the brekfus. I sot some biscuits overnight."

"Give me the Bible, David, an' my money box! There, open t' the same old chapter. Thank the Lord, that chapter is all on one page! Since He thought wise to take the usefulness from my members, I'm glad He made folks print my favorite chapter so there's no need of turnin' over. Land knows, who'd ever think of waitin' on me!"

"Come now, Susan Jane, I'm always willin', when I ain't on government duty."

"Government duty or sleep! Men is all alike. How would you feel if you was stricken like me?"

"Powerful bad, Susan Jane, powerful bad. Ye bear yer lot uncommon patient, Susan Jane; I'm never overlookin' that. But if ye put yer mind to it, wife, ye'll see that if I do my duty, I must sleep--some.

Howsomever, Mark Tapkins will have his turn to-night, same as usual; an'

I can set with ye this evenin'. The government is powerful generous, Susan Jane, t' give this every other night s.h.i.+ft."

"Generous, umph! There, David, do get the meal. I guess if you had laid awake all night, you'd have considerable cravin' in yer stomach fur victuals. I've a real sinkin'."