Trimmer had now recovered a very fair possession of
herself. "Of course I did," she answered, looking up at him as
she spoke. "Who else could it have been for!"
"Well," said he, "you were mistaken. It wasn't fer any one
of you. It was all fer me--fer my own self."
"You yourself?" said she. "I don't see how."
"But I see how," he answered. "It's been a long time since I
wanted to speak my mind to you, Mrs. Trimmer, but I didn't ever
have no chance. And all these Christmas doin's was got up to
give me the chance not only of speakin' to you, but of showin' my
colors better than I could show them in any other way.
Everything went on a-skimmin' till this mornin', when that
stranger that we brought in from the shoal piped up and asked fer
you. Then I went overboard--at least, I thought I did--and sunk
down, down, clean out of soundin's."
"That was too bad, captain," said she, speaking very gently,
"after all your trouble and kindness."
"But I don't know now," he continued, "whether I went
overboard or whether I am on deck. Can you tell me, Mrs.
Trimmer?"
She looked up at him. Her eyes were very soft, and her lips
trembled just a little. "It seems to me, captain," she said,
"that you are on deck--if you want to be."
The captain stepped closer to her. "Mrs. Trimmer," said he,
"is that brother of yours comin' back?"
"Yes," she answered, surprised at the sudden question. "He's
just gone up to the store to buy a shirt and some things.
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