“Ye’ll not? Ye’ll stay along o’ me?” “Why, ye see,” she began, bewildered, “I’ll—why, o’ course, I’ll—oh,” she complained, “what ye ask me _that_ for?” “Jus’ couldn’t _help_ it,” said “By-an’-by,” humbly. The maid began to cry. “Don’t!” pleaded “By-an’-by” Brown. “Jus’ can’t _stand_ it. I’ll do anything if ye’ll on’y stop cryin’. Ye can _have_ your father. Ye needn’t love me no more. Ye can go away along o’ he. An’ he’ll be comin’ soon, too. Ye’ll see if he don’t. Jus’ by-an’-by—by-an’-by!” “’Tis never,” the maid sobbed. “No, no! By-an’-by is soon. Why,” cried “By-an’-by” Brown, perceiving that this intelligence stopped the child’s tears, “by-an’-by is—wonderful soon.” “To-morrow?” “Well, no; but—” “’Tis never!” she wailed. “’Tis nex’ week!” cried “By-an’-by” Brown.... * * * * * When the dawn of Monday morning confronted “By-an’-by” Brown he was appalled. Here was a desperately momentous situation: by-an’-by must be faced—at last. Where was Long Bill Tweak? Nobody knew. How could Long Bill Tweak be fetched from Nowhere? Brown scratched his head. But Long Bill Tweak _must_ be fetched: for here was the maid, chirpin’ about the kitchen—turned out early, ecod! t’ clean house against her father’s coming. Cured? Ay; that she was—the mouse! “By-an’-by” Brown dared not contemplate her collapse at midnight of Saturday. But chance intervened: on Tuesday morning Long Bill Tweak made Blunder Cove on the way from Lancy Loop to St. John’s to join the sealing fleet in the spring of the year. Long Bill Tweak in the flesh! It was still blowing high: he had come out of the snow—a shadow in the white mist, rounding the Tickle rocks, observed from all the windows of Blunder Cove, but changing to Long Bill Tweak himself, ill-kempt, surly, gruff-voiced, vicious-eyed, at the kitchen door of “By-an’-by” Brown’s cottage. Long Bill Tweak begged the maid, with a bristle-whiskered twitch—a scowl, mistakenly delivered as a smile—for leave to lie the night in that place. The maid was afraid with a fear she had not known before. “We’re ’lowing for company,” she objected. “Come in!” “By-an’-by” called from the kitchen. The maid fled in a fright to the inner room, and closed the door upon herself; but Long Bill Tweak swaggered in. “Tweak!” gasped “By-an’-by” Brown. “Brown!” growled Long Bill Tweak. There was the silence of uttermost amazement; but presently, with a jerk, Tweak indicated the door through which “By-an’-by’s” baby had fled. “It?” he whispered. Brown nodded. “’Low I’ll be goin’ on,” said Long Bill Tweak, making for the windy day. “Ye’ll go,” answered “By-an’-by” Brown, quietly, interposing his great body, “when ye’re let: not afore.” Long Bill Tweak contented himself with the hospitality of “By-an’-by” Brown.... * * * * *