As soon as I was ready I descended the stairs to the living room, where Mrs. Ranck sat rocking in her chair, just as I had left her the night before. She was always an early riser, and I noticed that she had eaten her own breakfast and left a piece of bacon and corn–bread for me upon the hearth.
She made no reply to my “good morning, Aunt,” so I took the plate from the hearth and ate my breakfast in silence. I was not at all hungry; but I was young, and felt the need of food. Not until I had finished did Mrs. Ranck speak.
“We may as well look into the Cap’n’s room, an’ get it done with,” she said. “It’s only nat’ral as I should want to know if I’m goin’ to get the money back I’ve spent on your keepin’.”
“Very well,” said I.
She went to a drawer of a tall bureau and drew out a small ivory box. Within this I knew were the keys belonging to my father. Never before had Mrs. Ranck dared to meddle with them, for the Captain had always forbidden her and everyone else to enter his room during his absence. Even now, when he was dead, it seemed like disobedience of his wishes for the woman to seize the keys and march over to the door of the sacred room. In a moment she had turned the lock and thrown open the door.
Shy and half startled at our presumption, I approached and peered over her shoulder. Occasionally, indeed, I had had a glimpse of the interior of this little place, half chamber and half office; and, once or twice, when a little child, I had entered it to seek my father. Now, as I glanced within, it seemed to be in perfect order; but it struck me as more bare and unfurnished than I had ever seen it before. Father must have secretly removed many of the boxes that used to line the walls, for they were all gone except his big sea–chest.
The sight of the chest, however, reassured me, for it was in this that he had told me to look for my fortune, in case anything should happen to him.
The old woman at once walked over to the chest, and taking a smaller key from the ivory box, fitted it to the lock and threw back the lid with a bang.
“There’s your fortune!” she said, with a sneer; “see if you can find it.”
I bent over the chest, gazing eagerly into its depths. There was an old Bible in one end, and a broken compass in the other. But that was all.
Standing at one side, the woman looked into my astonished face and laughed mockingly.
“This was another o’ the Cap’n’s lies,” she said. “He lied to you about ownin’ the house; he lied to you about takin’ me out o’ charity; an’ he lied to you about the fortune in this chest. An easy liar was Cap’n Steele, I must say!”
I shrank back, looking into her exultant eyes with horror in my own.
“How dare you say such things about my father?” I cried, in anger.
“How dare I?” she retorted; “why, because they’re true, as you can see for yourself. Your father’s deceived you, an’ he’s deceived me. I’ve paid out over four hundred dollars for your keep, thinkin’ there was enough in this room to pay me back. An’ now I stand to lose every penny of it, jest because I trusted to a lyin’ sea–captain.”
“You won’t lose a dollar!” I cried, indignantly, while I struggled to keep back the tears of disappointment and shame that rushed to my eyes. “I’ll pay you every cent of the money, if I live.”
She looked at me curiously, with a half smile upon her thin lips.
“How?” she asked.
“I’ll work and earn it.”
“Pish! what can a boy like you earn? An’ what’s goin’ to happen while you’re earnin’ it? One thing’s certain, Sam Steele; you can’t stay here an’ live off’n a poor lone woman that’s lost four hundred dollars by you already. You’ll have to find another place.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, promptly.
“You can have three days to git out,” she continued, pushing me out of the room and relocking the door, although there was little reason for that. “And you can take whatever clothes you’ve got along with you. Nobody can say that Jane Ranck ain’t acted like a Christian to ye, even if she’s beat an’ defrauded out’n her just rights. But if ye should happen to earn any money, Sam, I hope you’ll remember what ye owe me.”
“I will,” said I, coldly; and I meant it.
To my surprise Mrs. Ranck gave a strange chuckle, which was doubtless meant for a laugh—the first I had ever known her to indulge in. It fired my indignation to such a point that I cried out: “Shame!” and seizing my cap I rushed from the house.
The cottage was built upon a small hill facing the bay, and was fully a quarter of a mile distant from the edge of the village of Batteraft. From our gate the path led down hill through a little group of trees and then split in twain, one branch running down to the beach, where the shipping lay, and the other crossing the meadows to the village. Among the trees my father had built a board bench, overlooking the bay, and here I have known him to sit for hours, enjoying the beauty of the view, while the leafy trees overhead shaded him from the hot sun.
It was toward this bench, a favorite resort of mine because my father loved it, that I directed my steps on leaving Mrs. Ranck. At the moment I was dazed by the amazing discovery of my impoverished condition, and this, following so suddenly upon the loss of my father, nearly overwhelmed me with despair. But I knew that prompt action on my part was necessary, for the woman had only given me three days grace, and my pride would not suffer me to remain that long in a home where my presence was declared a burden. So I would sit beneath the trees and try to decide where to go and what to do.
But as I approached the place I found, to my astonishment, that a man was already seated upon the bench. He was doubtless a stranger in Batteraft, for I had never seen him before, so that I moderated my pace and approached him slowly, thinking he might discover he was on private grounds and take his leave.
He paid no attention to me, being engaged in whittling a stick with a big jack–knife. In appearance he was short, thick–set, and of middle age. His round face was lined in every direction by deep wrinkles, and the scant hair that showed upon his temples was thin and grey. He wore a blue flannel shirt, with a black kerchief knotted at the throat; but, aside from this, his dress was that of an ordinary civilian; so that at first I was unable to decide whether he was a sailor or a landsman.
The chief attraction in the stranger was the expression of his face, which was remarkably humorous. Although I was close by him, now, he paid no attention to my presence, but as he whittled away industriously he gave vent to several half audible chuckles that seemed to indicate that his thoughts were very amusing.
I was about to pass him and go down to the beach, where I might find a solitary spot for my musings, when the man turned his eyes up to mine and gave a wink that seemed both mysterious and confidential.
“It’s Sam, ain’t it?” he asked, with another silent chuckle.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, resenting his familiarity while I wondered how he should know me.
“Cap’n Steele’s son, I’m guessin’?” he continued.