The Puritan Twins | Page 5

I have n't set eyes on your
father since he left Boston and settled in the back woods up yonder."
He sent the boat flying through the water with swift, sure strokes as he
talked, and brought it ashore at the first landing-place they found. Here
they drew it up on the bank and, taking out the lobster-pots, turned it
upside down so the rain would not fill it. Two great green lobsters with
goblin-like eyes were hidden away under the pots, and when the boat
was overturned they tumbled out and started at a lively pace for the
water.
"Hi, there!" shouted the Captain, seizing them by their tails, "where are
your manners? By jolly, I like to forgot ye! Come along now and take
supper with the Pepperells. I invite ye! They 're short of clams and they
'll be pleased to see ye, or I miss my reckoning." There were pegs stuck
in the scissor-like claws, so the creatures were harmless, and, swinging
along with one kicking vigorously in each hand, the Captain plunged
into the long meadow grass, the children following close at his heels.
The clouds grew darker and darker; there was a rumble of thunder, and
streaks of lightning tore great rents in the sky as they hurried across the
open meadow and struck into the pasture land beyond.
"Head into the wind there and keep going," shouted the Captain as the
children struggled along, impeded by their wet clothing. "It 's from the

north, and we 're pointed straight into it."
Past bushes waving distractedly in the wind, under the boughs of young
oak trees, over stones and through briars they sped, and at last they
came in sight of the cabin just as the storm broke. Goodwife Pepperell
was standing in the door gazing anxiously toward the river, when they
dashed out of the bushes and, scudding past her, stood dripping on the
hearth-stone. Her husband was just hanging his gun over the
chimney-piece, and the noise of their entrance was drowned out by a
clap of thunder; so when he turned about and saw the three drenched
figures it was no wonder that for an instant he was too surprised to
speak.
"Well, of all things!" he said at last, holding out his hand to Captain
Sanders. "What in God's providence brings thee here, Thomas? Thou
art welcome indeed. 'T is a long time since I have seen thee."
"God's providence ye may call it," answered the Captain, shaking the
Goodman's hand as if he were pumping out the hold of a sinking ship,
"and I 'll not gainsay it. The truth is I overhauled these small craft
floundering around in the tide-wash with water over their scuppers 'n'
all but wrecked, so I took 'em in tow and brought 'em ashore!"
Their mother, meanwhile, had not waited for explanations. Seeing how
chilled they were, she had hurried the children to the loft above the one
room of the cabin and was already giving them a rub-down and getting
out dry clean clothes while they told her their adventure.
"Thank God you are safe," she said, clasping them both in her arms,
when the tale was told.
"Thank Captain Sanders as well, Mother," said Daniel. "Had it not been
for him, I doubt if we could have reached the shore."
"Let this be a lesson to you, then," said the Goodwife, loosening her
clasp and picking up the wet clothing. "You know well about the tide!
Nancy, child, why art thou so wild and reckless? Thou art the cause of
much anxiety."

At her mother's reproof, gentle though it was, poor Nancy flopped over
on her stomach, and, burying her face in her hands, gave way to tears.
"It 's all because I am so wicked," she moaned. "My sins are as scarlet!
Oh, Mother, dost think God will cause the lightning to strike us dead to
punish me?" She shuddered with fear as a flash shone through the
chinks of the logs and for an instant lighted the dim loft.
Her mother put down the wet clothes and, lifting her little daughter
tenderly in her arms, laid her on her bed. "God maketh the rain to fall
on both the just and the unjust," she said soothingly. "Rest here while I
go down and get supper."
She covered her warmly with a homespun blanket, and, accompanied
by Dan, made her way down the ladder. She found her husband putting
fresh logs on the fire and stirring the coals to a blaze, while the Captain
hung his coat on the corner of the mantel-shelf to dry. She went up to
him and held out her hand. "Captain Sanders," she said, "but for thee
this might be a desolate household indeed this night."
The