When Sanford arrived at Keyport, a raw, southeast gale swept through the deserted streets. About the wharves of the village itself idle stevedores lounged under dripping roofs, watching the cloud-rack and speculating on the chances of going to work. Out in the harbor the fishing-boats rocked uneasily, their long, red pennants flattened against the sky. Now and then a frightened sloop came hurrying in with close-reefed jib, sousing her bow under at every plunge. Away off in the open a dull gray mist, churned up by the tumbling waves, dimmed the horizon, blurring here and there a belated coaster laboring heavily under bare poles, while from Crotch Island way came the roar of the pounding surf dashed headlong on the beach. The long-expected equinoctial storm was at its height. So fierce and so searching were the wind and rain that Sanford was thoroughly drenched when he reached Captain Joe’s cottage. “For the land’s sake, Mr. Sanford, come right in! Why, ye’re jest’s soakin’ as though ye’d fell off the dock. Cap’n said ye was a-comin’, but I hoped ye wouldn’t. I ain’t never see it blow so terrible, I don’t know when. Gimme that overcoat,” slipping it from his shoulders and arms. “Be yer feet wet?” “Pretty wet, Mrs. Bell. I’ll go up to my room and get some dry socks”— “Ye ain’t a-goin’ to move one step. Set right down an’ get them shoes off. I’ll go for the socks myself. I overhauled ’em last week with the cap’n’s, and sot a new toe in one o’ them. I won’t be a minute!” she cried, hurrying out of the room, and returning with heavy woolen socks and a white worsted sweater. “Guess ye’ll want these, too, sir,” she said, picking up a pair of slippers. “Where is Captain Joe?” asked Sanford, as he pulled off his wet shoes and stockings and moved closer to the fire. It was an every-day scene in Aunty Bell’s kitchen, where one half of her visitors were wet half the time, and the other half wet all the time. “I don’t jes’ know. He ain’t been home sence Saturday night but jes’ long ’nough to change his clothes an’ git a bite to eat. Come in from the Ledge Saturday night on the tug two hours after the Screamer brought in the men, an’ hollered to me to go git Caleb an’ come down to the machine shop. You heared they broke the pump on the h’istin’-engine, didn’t ye? They both been a-workin’ on it pretty much ever sence.” “Not the big hoister?” Sanford exclaimed, with a start, turning pale. “Well, that’s what the cap’n said, sir. He an’ Caleb worked all Saturday night an’ Sunday, an’ got a new castin’ made, an’ bored it out yesterday. I told him he wouldn’t have no luck, workin’ on Sunday, but he didn’t pay no more ’tention to me than th’ wind a-blowin’. It was to be done this mornin’. He was up at five, an’ I ain’t seen him sence. Said he was goin’ to git to the Ledge in Cap’n Potts’ cat-boat, if it mod’rated.”