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"Well, tell us, please."
"It's about a murder that took place on s.m.u.tty Nose once when I was off on a cruise. Two helpless women in a little cottage were killed by a wretch who thought there was money saved in the house. A third woman with a small dog in her arms escaped and hid here among the rocks. She was terribly scared that the little creature would bark and betray her."
"Did it?"
"Well, she crouched in the darkness, while she heard the murderer pa.s.s close by, calling and threatening. But the dog seemed to understand, and kept perfectly quiet until daylight. The woman had heard the murderer rowing away at dawn, and when people on Appledore were stirring they saw her making frantic signs, and they came over and got her and the dog."
"Was the murderer ever caught?" asked Herbert.
"Yes--and he paid the penalty. But I don't know how long the dog lived, young ladies, for I see that's what you'd like to hear," added Capt.
d.i.c.kerson, turning to the girls.
"I wish I could tell you more," he continued, after a pause. "I dare say you know the Shoals were once called 'Smith's Eyelands,' and there's a monument to Capt. Smith on Star. You've heard about Gorges, I suppose; well, they were in Gorges and Mason's grant, and when Ma.s.sachusetts people stepped into Maine, the most northerly went to Maine, and the others to New Hamps.h.i.+re."
"Any other great men here, besides Smith?" asked Herbert.
"Not many--besides myself," said Capt. d.i.c.kerson, smiling, "except, perhaps, Sir Wm. Pepperell. At least his father was one of the early settlers of the Shoals, and he was born here. But you'll hear about him at Kittery. Then, as I said before, Appledore's full of Celia Thaxter, and her father was queer enough to be called a great man. He had been a politician, and when he got out of sorts with his party he quit the mainland, and brought his boys to White Island, where he was lighthouse keeper. They say the boys were fourteen or fifteen before they ever went ash.o.r.e, and then they were frightened by the first horse they saw."
"Thank you, Capt. d.i.c.kerson. I knew you'd have something interesting to tell," and Herbert moved away impatiently. "I'm coming over some day next week to go fis.h.i.+ng with you."
"Yes, I shall be expecting you. I could show you a good many things, young ladies, if you'd spend the day, but it is hard to understand even s.m.u.tty Nose alone in an hour."
"Oh, but we've enjoyed coming here," replied Martine, and she and Clare shook hands cordially with Captain d.i.c.kerson as they said good-bye.
After dinner at Appledore, all sat for a half-hour on the hotel piazza, which was so near the water that it seemed in many ways like the deck of a s.h.i.+p. Miss Byng and Mrs. Trotter, who had taken charge of the party from York Harbor (the girls declined to call them chaperones) met several acquaintances among the hotel guests. Miss Byng, in fact, had spent a summer at Appledore, and she exchanged reminiscences with one of her friends about Celia Thaxter, the "Queen of Appledore."
"She was certainly a wonderful woman," said Miss Byng, as Clare and Martine drew their chairs within her circle. "Sometimes in the early morning when I looked out of my window, I would see her working in her garden. She was often up at four o'clock, and she made the most wonderful flowers grow from this rocky soil."
"Oh, flowers were to her as individual as human beings," added Mrs.
Trotter. "She watched over them lovingly while they were in the garden, and when she brought them into the house they were treated sumptuously.
Each flower was placed in a vase by itself, and every spot that could hold them had its vases, silver, gla.s.s, or china, each with its single blossom."
"What a strange idea!" cried Clare.
"The effect was beautiful, the brilliant flowers, the picture-covered walls--and the queenly mistress of the house with snow-white hair, in her clinging grey gown--the favorite costume of her latter years."
"Appledore is not the same now," and Mrs. Trotter sighed, "do you recall Mrs. Thaxter's lines--
"The barren island dreams in flowers, while blow The south winds, drawing haze on sea and land, Yet the great heart of ocean, throbbing slow Makes the pale flowers vibrate where they stand."
"Oh dear!" whispered Martine to Clare, "I feel as if I were at a funeral. Let's find what Peggy has been doing."
"But I'd like to have known Mrs. Thaxter, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, though a person who had lived most of her life on an island of four hundred acres must have been different from the rest of the world."
"She _did_ write poetry," replied Clare.
"Yes, that made her different from most of us. But here come Peggy and the rest. I wonder where they've been."
Peggy and her party explained that they had been watching the surf on the farther side of the island.
"Yes," exclaimed Peggy, "it was fine, I can tell you, and the view, why, we could see miles and miles; if we had had a gla.s.s, I believe we could have heard people talking at York." Whereat, in the fas.h.i.+on of young people, all laughed as heartily as if Peggy had said something really funny. While they stood there, Herbert was looking nervously at his watch.
"Excuse me, but I really think--"
Carlotta, after the manner of sisters, laughed derisively.
"Listen! I believe he wishes to make an original remark." Herbert was farther off than the others and had not heard just what Carlotta said.
"If we are not careful," he said again, looking at his watch, "we shall miss the boat."
"There," said Carlotta, "I told you that he was going to make an original remark."
This time Herbert heard her words, and when all laughed except Martine, he reddened deeply.
"It's better to be early than late," remarked Martine consolingly; "I've often missed a boat or a train just by thinking I had plenty of time."
Herbert turned gratefully towards Martine and walked back with her to the hotel. As a matter of fact they had half an hour to spare and were able to say good-bye to all their acquaintances without undue haste. The return trip was unexciting, and they reached Portsmouth in good spirits just in season to get the Ferry for Kittery.
As they came to their special car, "Here's your admirer," said Peggy mischievously to Martine.
"What do you mean?" asked Martine.
"Why, the conductor; didn't you notice him coming over? Carlotta did."
"Yes," added Carlotta, "I certainly thought he was going to speak to you."
"Nonsense!" said Martine.
"Do you know him?" whispered Peggy mischievously, as the car speeded along the Kittery sh.o.r.e.
"I haven't even looked at him," replied Martine indignantly. "Herbert has had charge of the fares, and as the conductor stands on the back platform, and as I have no eyes in the back of my head, I couldn't recognize him even if he were an old friend."
Later, however, as the young man moved along and stood for a while beside the motorman, Martine had a chance to see him, though it was only a back view.
"Carlotta," she said, "that conductor does remind me of some one. I wonder if it's any one we know at home? Do you see a resemblance? A resemblance to any one you know?"
"No," said Carlotta, "really I do not." And so the matter dropped.
It was nearly dusk when Martine and Clare left the car at the turn of the road.
"Step carefully," said the conductor, holding out his hands to help the two. Martine started, turned and looked toward the car, but it was already on its way down the hill.
"I wonder,"--but she did not complete the sentence, though all that evening she continued to ponder over the strange resemblance.