Joseph Crosby Lincoln

“ Beside the path, on the landward side, the bayberry and beach-plum bushes were in bud, the green of the new grass was showing above the dead brown of the old, a bluebird was swaying on the stump of a wild cherry tree, and the pines and scrub oaks of the grove by the Shore Lane were bright, vivid splashes of color against the blue of the sky. At my right hand the yellow sand of the bluff broke sharply down to the white beach and the waters of the bay, now beginning to ebb. ”

“ Across the bay the lighthouse at Crow Point glistened with new paint and I could see a moving black speck, which I knew was Ben Small, the keeper, busy whitewashing the fence beside it. Down on the beach Zeb Kendrick was overhauling his dory. In the distance, beyond the grove, I could hear the carpenters' hammers on the roof of the big Atwater mansion, which was now the property of James Colton, the New York millionaire, whose rumored coming to Denboro to live had filled the columns of the country weekly for three months. ”

“ The bell at Crow Point sounded further and further astern. The twilight changed to dusk and the dusk to darkness. The fog was as thick as ever. It was nearly time for the tide to turn.
Suddenly there was a jerk; the launch quivered, and swung about.
“Oh! what was that?” demanded Miss Colton, shortly.
“The anchor,” I answered. “We have reached the outer shoal.”
“And,” hesitatingly, “shall we stay here?”
“Yes; unless—”
“Unless what?”
“Unless . . . Hush! listen!”
There was an odd rushing sound from the darkness astern, a sort of hiss and low, watery roar. ”

“ One of the surest signs of the loss of self-respect is a disregard of one's personal appearance. I looked like a hayseed—not the independent countryman who wears old clothes on week days from choice and is proudly conscious of a Sunday suit in the closet—but that other variety, the post-office and billiard-room idler who has reached the point of utter indifference, is too shiftless to care. Captain Jed was not so far wrong, after all—Lute Rogers and I were birds of a feather in more ways than one. ”

“ We had come to the edge of the grove bordering Beriah Holt's pasture. The grove was on the west side of a little hill. Before us the pasture sloped away to Beriah's house and barn, with the road beyond it. And beyond that, in the distance, were the steeples and roofs of Denboro. Among them the gables and tower of the Colton mansion rose, conspicuous and costly.
She turned in the saddle. “I presume I may leave you now, Mr. Paine,” she said. “Even you must admit that the rest of the way is plain sailing. ”

“ By and by, however, I hooked a four-pound pickerel and he stirred my lagging ambition. I waded on, casting and playing beyond the lily pads and sedge. At last I got my first bass, a small one, and had scarcely landed him than a big fellow struck, fought, rose and broke away. That was spur sufficient. All the forenoon I waded about the shores of that pond. When at half-past eleven the sun came out and I knew my sport was over, for the time at least, I had four bass—two of them fine ones—and two, pickerel. Then I remembered my appetite and Dorinda's luncheon. ”

“ It reminded me, in a way, of our luncheon at Seabury's Pond, but that had been out of doors, an impromptu picnic, with all a picnic's surroundings. This was different, quite different. It was so familiar, so homelike, so conventional, and yet, for her and me, so impossible. I looked at her and she, looking up at the moment, caught my eyes. The color mounted to her cheeks. I felt my own face flushing. Dorinda—practical, unromantic Dorinda—had guessed my feeling for this girl; Mother had divined it. It was plain enough for anyone to read. ”

“ Somebody has said that there is nothing harder to bear than the contempt and ridicule of servants. For one thing, you cannot resent it without a loss of dignity, and, for another, you may be perfectly sure that theirs is but the reflection of their employers' frame of mind. This encounter shook my self-satisfaction more than a little. It angered me, but it did more than that; it brought back the feeling I had when I left the Colton library, that my defiance was not, after all, taken seriously. That I was regarded by Colton as just what Oscar had termed me, a “fool Rube.” ”

“ Perhaps it was the quickening influence of the spring which resurrected it; perhaps Luther's quotation from the remarks of Captain Jedediah Dean had stirred it to rebellion. A man may know, in his heart, that he is no good and still resent having others say that he is, particularly when they say that he and Luther Rogers are birds of a feather. I didn't care for Dean's good opinion; of course I didn't! Nor for that of any one else in Denboro, my mother excepted. But Dean and the rest should keep their opinions to themselves, confound them! ”

“ At first I decided to go home at once, but something akin to Captain Dean's resentful stubbornness came over me. I would not be driven home by those people. I found an unoccupied camp chair—one of Sim's, which he rented for funerals—and carried it to a dark spot in the shrubbery near the border of the parsonage lawn and not far from the gate. There I seated myself, lit a cigar and smoked in solitude.
Elnathan Mullet, evidently considering his labors as door-keeper over, was counting his takings by lantern light. The moon was low in the west and a little breeze was now stirring the shrubbery. ”

“ There was nothing more said about it at the time and my passengers talked of other things as we sailed home before the fast dying breeze. It died almost altogether as we passed the lighthouse at Crow Point and entered the bay and, for an hour, we barely held our own against the tide. The sun set, twilight came, and the stars appeared one by one. Colton, lying at full length on the deck forward of the cockpit, smoked in lazy enjoyment. ”

“ A quarter of a mile from the junction of the Shore Lane, on the Lower Road, was a willow-shaded spot, where the brook which irrigated Elnathan Mullet's cranberry swamp ran under a small wooden bridge. It was there that I first heard the horn and, turning, saw the automobile coming from behind me. It was approaching at a speed of, I should say, thirty miles an hour, and I jumped to the rail of the bridge to let it pass. Autos were not as common on the Cape then as they have become since. Now the average pedestrian of common-sense jumps first and looks afterwards. ”

“ The occupant of the dory seemed to be puzzled. He leaned forward once more.
“What sort of talk is that?” he demanded. “Where's my lobsters? . . . Hey! What? I swan to man, I believe one of ye's a woman! Have the females turned thieves, too?”
“I don't know. See here, my friend, my name is Paine, and I'm the only lobster aboard this craft. This lady and I belong in Denboro. My launch has run out of gasolene and we have been drifting about the bay since five o'clock. Now, for heaven's sake, don't talk any more, but take us to the lock-up and be quick about it.” ”

“ Colton, you—I don't know what to say to you.”
“Try saying 'yes' and see how it seems. It will be a change, anyhow.”
“No, no! I cannot; it is impossible.”
“Oh, you make me weary! . . . Humph! What is it now? Any more 'reasons'?”
“Yes.” I faced him squarely. “Yes,” I said, “there is another reason, one that makes it impossible, utterly impossible, if nothing else did. When I tell you what it is you will understand what I mean and agree with me. Your daughter and I have been thrown together a great deal since she came to Denboro. Our meetings have not been of my seeking, nor of hers. ”

“ Dorinda, who happened to be in good humor, put up a lunch for me and, at seven o'clock, with my rod and landing net in their cases, strapped, with my fishing boots and coffee pot, to my back, and my bait pail in one hand and lunch basket in the other, I started on my tramp. It was a long four miles to Seabury's Pond, my destination, and Lute, to whom, like most country people, the idea of a four-mile walk was sheer lunacy, urged my harnessing the horse and driving there. ”

“ Come, Paine, own up now. You know you are frightened, don't you?”
“Not very,” I answered, truthfully.
“So? Then you aren't as sensible as you ought to be. A wise man knows when to be scared. Let's make a little bet on it. I'll bet you two to one that I'll own that land of yours inside of six months.”
I shook my head. “I never bet on certainties,” I declared. “I should be ashamed to collect my winnings.”
This seemed to amuse them both, for they both laughed.
“Father,” said Miss Colton, “I am afraid you don't learn by experience. You have lost one bet already, you know.” ”

“ The path from our house—the latter every Denboro native spoke of as the “Paine Place”—wound along the edge of the bluff for perhaps three hundred yards, then turned sharply through the grove of scrub oaks and pitch pines and emerged on the Shore Lane. The Shore Lane was not a public road, in the strictest sense of the term. It was really a part of my land and, leading, as it did, from the Lower Road to the beach, was used as a public road merely because mother and I permitted it to be. ”

“ Roscoe,” earnestly, “Roscoe, if you care for anybody and she cares for you, don't let anything keep you apart. If she's worth a million or fifty cents that don't make any difference. It shouldn't be a matter of her folks or your folks or money or pride or anything else. It's a matter for just you and her. And if you love each other, that's enough. I tell you so, and I know.”
I was more astonished than ever. I could scarcely believe that this was the dry, practical Dorinda Rogers who had kept house for Mother and me all these years. ”

“ You owe it to yourself, Roscoe. The chance is one that many men would be very, very glad to have come their way. I shall not urge you, Boy. You must decide for yourself, and I know you will; but, Roscoe, I shall be quite contented—yes, glad and proud, if you say yes to Mr. Colton.”
The gentleman named nodded emphatic approval. “That's the talk!” he exclaimed. “Mrs. Paine, I congratulate you on your common-sense.”
“I think, like you, that you will have made a good investment, Mr. Colton,” was Mother's answer. ”

“ He was smiling, but there was a look in his eye which expressed the exact opposite of smiles.
“Ros,” he said, quietly, “Ros Paine, you bull-headed, big-hearted old chump, how are you?”
But I could only stare at him. Why had he come to Denboro? What did his coming to me mean? Why had he come with Captain Jed, the man who had vowed that he was done with me forever? And why was the captain looking at me so oddly?
“George!” I cried in alarm, “George, you haven't—you haven't made a fool of yourself? You haven't—”
Captain Jed interrupted me. “He ain't the fool, Ros,” he said. ”

“ I like you, Ros. I took a shine to you the first time I met you. I don't know why exactly. Why does anybody like anybody else? But I think a whole lot of you. I know this sounds foolish, and you don't feel that way towards me, but it's the truth.”
I was amazed. I had always liked George Taylor, but I never felt any strong affection for him. I was a little less indifferent to him than to others in Denboro, that was all. ”

“ Dean? Cap'n Jed? Her father? Oh, Ros, don't be a fool altogether! I beg your pardon, old man! I don't mean it. You mustn't mind. I ain't responsible for what I say just now. But I couldn't go to Cap'n Jed. You know him. He's as straight and square and honest as he is obstinate and cranky. If I went to him I couldn't tell him the truth. And if I lied he'd suspect and want to know why I needed to borrow money. And Nellie—don't you see? There's the real awfulness of the whole thing. ”

“ I remember reaching that bedroom, of course, and of meeting Lute in the kitchen and telling him that I was not to be disturbed, that I should not come down to supper and that I wanted to be let alone—to be let ALONE—until I saw fit to show myself. But these memories are all foggy and mixed with dreams and nightmares. As I say, the next thing that I remember distinctly after staggering from the Colton library is Dorinda's knocking at the door of my bedroom.
“Ros! Roscoe!” she was calling. “Can you get up now? There is somebody downstairs waitin' to see you.” ”

“ He does not count money when he has set his heart upon anything. And you refused?”
“Yes.”
“But Nellie Dean says the town also wished to buy and you refused its offer, too.”
“Yes.”
“You don't seem to care for money, either, Mr. Paine. Are all Cape Cod people so unmercenary? Or is it that you all have money enough—. . . Pardon me. That was impolite. I spoke without thinking.”
“Oh, never mind. I am not sensitive—on that point, at least.”
“But I do mind. And I am sorry I said it. And I should like to understand. I see why the townspeople do not want the Lane closed. ”

“ She said she was not sorry for what I had done. She was rather glad, than otherwise, that I had disclosed our secret to Mr. Colton.
“He knows now, Roscoe,” she said. “And he was right, too. You and I have brooded over our sorrow and what we considered our disgrace much more than we should. He is right, Boy. We are innocent of any wrong-doing.”
“Yes, Mother,” I answered, “I suppose we are. But we must keep the secret still. No one else in Denboro must know. You know what gossip there would be. There is enough now. ”

“ No, thank you, George.”
“All right, if you say so. But I meant it. You don't need the salary, I know. But—Ros, do you mind if I talk plain for a moment?”
I wondered what was coming now. “No,” I answered. “Go ahead and talk.”
“Well then, I tell you, as a friend, that 'twould be a good thing for you if you did take that job, or some other one. Don't make much matter what it is, but you ought to do something. You're too clever a fellow to be hanging around, shooting and fishing. You're wasting your life.” ”