“I didn't want to wait. I believed I knew something of human nature, and I believed I had learned to understand you. I made up my mind to pay no more attention to what people said against you. I thought they were envious and disliked you because you did things in your own way. I wouldn't believe the stories I heard this afternoon. I wanted to hear you speak in your own defense and you refuse to do it. Don't you know what people are saying? They say you are trying to keep Emily because--Oh, I'm ashamed to ask it, but you make me: HAS the child got valuable property of her own?” Captain Cy had been, throughout this scene, standing quietly by the table. Now he took a step forward. “Miss Dawes,” he said sharply, “sit down.” “But I--” “Sit down, please.” The schoolmistress didn't mean to obey the order, but for some reason she did. The captain went on speaking. “It's pretty plain,” he said, “that what you heard at the boardin' house--for I suppose that's where you did hear it--was what you might call a Phinneyized story of the doin's at the meetin'. Well, there's another yarn, and it's mine; I'm goin' to spin it and I want you to listen.” He went on to spin his yarn. It was practically a repetition of his reply to Tad Simpson that morning. Its conclusion was also much the same. “The land ain't worth fifty dollars,” he declared, “but if it was fifty million he shouldn't have it. Why? Because it belongs to that little girl. And he shan't have her until he and those back of him have hammered me through the courts till I'm down forty fathom under water. And when they do get her--and, to be honest, I cal'late they will in the end--I hope to God I won't be alive to see it! There! I've answered you.” He was walking up and down the room, with the old quarter-deck stride, his hands jammed deep in his pockets and his face working with emotion. “It's pretty nigh a single-handed fight for me,” he continued, “but I've fought single-handed before. The other side's got almost all the powder and the men. Heman and Tad and that Thomas have got seven eighths of Bayport behind 'em, not to mention the 'Providence' they're so sure of. My crowd is a mighty forlorn hope: Dimick and Ase Tidditt, and Bailey, as much as his wife 'll let him. Oh, yes!” and he smiled whimsically, “there's another one. A new recruit's just joined; Georgianna's enlisted. That's my army. Sort of rag-jacketed cadets, we are, small potatoes, and few in a hill.” The teacher rose and laid a hand on his arm. He turned toward her. The lamplight shone upon her face, and he saw, to his astonishment, that there were tears in her eyes. “Cap'n Whittaker,” she said, “will you take an other recruit? I should like to enlist, please.” “You? Oh, pshaw! I'm thick-headed to-night. I didn't see the joke of it at first.”