Edward Hamilton,Cliff Cottage,Cottage City, Mass.Tramp steamerMariellajust reported passing in. Bound for Boston.William Coffin, Nantucket.
Edward Hamilton,Cliff Cottage,Cottage City, Mass.
Tramp steamerMariellajust reported passing in. Bound for Boston.
William Coffin, Nantucket.
Mrs. Hamilton sank back into her chair, an expression of eager hope lighting up her wan face.
"Do you suppose that Harry is on board, Edward? Can it be that he is coming home at last?"
"I hope so, Mary, but I cannot understand it. Where has the steamer been and why has she not been reported out?"
"Can this be a mistake?" asked the woman plaintively, holding out the telegram.
"No, I think not."
"Then let us go to Boston at once and meet him."
"That would be unwise. By the time we could reach there, Harry—if he is aboard—might be on his way here. It is best to wait, Mary, and hope for the best. In the meantime, I will wire to my agent in Boston to meet the steamer."
With a sigh of resignation, Mrs. Hamilton resumed her weary vigil. Suddenly she started up with a new idea.
"Edward," she said, "if she is coming in she will pass out there."
"Yes, but too far out for you to see her, Mary."
"Never mind; bring me the glasses. It will help to pass the weary hours of waiting."
Mr. Hamilton brought her a pair of marine glasses, and rearranging the cushions behind her head with a tender hand, he left her eagerly scanning the horizon for some sign of a passing steamer.
When he returned from the telegraph office she called to him eagerly:
"Look, Edward, just off the point. There is a steamer."
"Yes, probably a collier."
"But she seems to be headed this way."
"They go up the sound to New York."
"But might she not be the—the——"
"No, Mary; she would have to head out around Cape Cod to make Boston."
"I know, I know, but perhaps she may land him here."
"That would take her out of her course and mean the loss of time. Her captain would not do that."
For fifteen minutes more, Mrs. Hamilton watched the steamer in silence and then she turned again to her husband, and said:
"She is not going up the sound, Edward; she is headed in here." Mr. Hamilton took the glasses and scanned the steamer.
"She does seem to be headed this way."
"It is theMariella, Edward."
Mrs. Hamilton spoke in a low tone of deep conviction. Her husband looked at her anxiously.
"You are trying to make coincidences fit your wishes, Mary," he said. "Do not build up false hopes; the disappointment will be too much for your worn nerves."
"I shall not be disappointed, Edward; see, she is headed straight in now."
"It is strange," said Mr. Hamilton, beginning himself to take an interest in the steamer, whichwas now certainly headed almost for the cottage.
"Quick, Edward, the glasses; I can see people on her decks."
Mrs. Hamilton rose from her chair as she spoke and almost snatched the glasses from her husband's hands in her eagerness. For a long time she stood like a statue with the glasses trained on the steamer, and then suddenly she took a white shawl from her shoulders and waved it wildly above her head.
"It is Harry," she cried, sobbing with excitement, as she thrust the glasses into her husband's hands. "See, they have seen us, too, and Harry is waving his hat."
Her overwrought nerves could not stand the excess of joy and she sank into her husband's arms.
Mr. Hamilton carried her into a big room that overlooked the water and placed her gently on a lounge. When she recovered consciousness and opened her eyes, she looked up into the face of her son, who bent anxiously over her.
"Harry," she whispered, her happiness sending the warm blood back into her face again.
"Mother," he cried, seizing her in his strong young arms.
When she was stronger they led her out to her seat on the veranda where she had kept her weary vigil, and she warmly greeted Bert and the Midget,who had just returned from the telegraph office, where they had sent word at once to their homes telling of their safe arrival in America. O'Connor who had come ashore at Harry's earnest solicitation, stood in the background talking with Mr. Hamilton, to whom he had briefly outlined the adventures of the three boys since they had been his guests on theMariella.
Harry took the big man by the hand and led him over to his mother.
"Mother," he said, proudly, "I want you to know my friend, Captain Dynamite."
"Captain Dynamite?" repeated Mrs. Hamilton, in wonder.
"Captain O'Connor, I mean; they call him Dynamite because when you touch him off there's sure to be something doing. He saved our lives twice—once from the sea, and once from the Spaniards."
"The Spaniards—my son, what are you talking about?"
"That's a long story, mother. I will tell you that to-night."
After much persuasion, O'Connor was induced to remain overnight on condition that all hands would dine on theMariella. He went back to the steamer and sent a large boat ashore for his guests and no happier party could have beenfound that night than those who gathered around the table in the cabin of the oldMariella. Miss Juanita made Mrs. Hamilton's heart glow with the pride of a mother as she told of Harry's sacrifice to save her, and after dinner, as they all gathered on the after deck under the starlit sky, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton listened with breathless interest as the various actors told the story of their adventures during the voyage with Captain Dynamite.
It was long after midnight when all the farewells had been said and the boat that was to put the departing guests ashore left the side of theMariella. As the sailors pushed off, O'Connor and Juanita stood at the rail, his big hand resting gently on hers.
"Say, Cap," shouted the Midget, as they moved away, "count us in when you cut that wedding cake."
[THE END.]