The interview with the Reverend Perley that followed this conversation must have been effective, for the sermon was surprisingly brief and as surprisingly calm. In fact, so rational was it that a few of the more extreme among the preacher's following were a bit disappointed and inquired anxiously as to their leader's health, after the ceremony was over. The procession of carryalls and buggies followed the hearse to the cemetery among the pines, and, as the mourners stood about the grave, the winter wind sang through the evergreen branches a song so like the roar of the surf that it seemed like a dirge of the sea for the mariner who would sail no more. As they were clearing away the supper dishes that night Captain Eri said to Mrs. Snow, “Well, John's gone. I wonder if he's happier now than he has been for the last ten years or so.” “I think he is,” was the answer. “Well, so do I, but if he hadn't been a 'Come Outer' I don't s'pose Brother Perley and his crowd would have figgered that he had much show. Seems sometimes as if folks like that--reel good-hearted folks, too, that wouldn't hurt a fly--git solid comfort out of the feelin' that everybody that don't agree with 'em is bound to everlastin' torment. I don't know but it's wicked to say it, but honest, it seems as if them kind would 'bout as soon give up the hopes of Heaven for themselves as they would the satisfaction of knowin' 'twas t'other place for the other feller.” To which remark the somewhat shocked housekeeper made no reply. The following day Elsie went back to her school. Captain Eri walked up with her, and, on the way, told her of his discovery of her secret, and of his interview with “Web” Saunders. It was exactly as the Captain had surmised. The note she had received on the evening of the return from the life-saving station was from the proprietor of the billiard saloon, and in it he hinted at some dire calamity that overshadowed her grandfather, and demanded an immediate interview. She had seen him that night and, under threat of instant exposure, had promised to pay the sum required for silence. She had not wished to use her grandfather's money for this purpose, and so had taken the position as teacher. “Well,” said the Captain, “I wish you'd have come to me right away, and told me the whole bus'ness. 'Twould have saved a pile of trouble.” The young lady stopped short and faced him. “Captain Eri,” she said, “how could I? I was sure grandfather had set the fire. I knew how ill he was, and I knew that any shock might kill him. Besides, how could I drag you into it, when you had done so much already? It would have been dreadful. No, I thought it all out, and decided I must face it alone.”