"Yes," said the son, facing him sidewise so that no Ramsey might again surprise them: "I see it that way too. Father"--the father had stirred as if to leave him--"I want to tell you some things about our past. But I can't tell them piecemeal. I must find some time when you're off watch." "And when Miss Ramsey's asleep?" "Yes." "Why have you never told me before?" "I've tried for years. The power wasn't in me. I've had to grow up to it. But, as you say, 'now, at last,' I can do it." The captain turned away and looked up to the dim pilot-house. Out of it came the tranquil voice of the pilot who earlier had talked with the twins: "Caving bank above has planted snags at that wood-yard, sir. Whippoorwill Ferry's a better landing, on t'other side, head o' the crossing." "Well, Mr. Watson, land there." The boat was sweeping close by the west-shore village of Bayagoula, that lay asleep where the stream for a brief space widened to a mile. Her veering jack-staff hid the north star a moment, then crept to right of it and pointed up a five-mile reach of dim waters and dimmer shores, hard on the heels of the panting _Antelope._ But the captain's eye lingered behind and above him. Between him and the pilot-house, softly veiled by its moonlight shadow, stood in unconscious statuesqueness on the front overhang of the texas roof, between the towering chimneys, Ramsey. Her rippling curls and slim shoulders stood above the shade that enveloped the rest of her form and showed dark against the feeble light of the moon at her back. As he looked she uttered a droll sound--fair counterfeit of the harsh note a mocking-bird speaks to himself before his nightly outburst--and then broke forth in a voice as untrained, but as fresh and joyous and as reckless of reproof or praise, as the bird's: "'O, the lone, starry hours give me, love, When still is the beautiful night----'" At sight of a second and third figure he moved that way, while below the singer's feet sounded a mother's moan: "Ramsey! mon Dieu! my chile! come down from yondeh!" The girl's eyes stayed in the sky, but one mutinous foot so keenly smote the roof that her nurse, approaching behind, stopped short, and from Hugh came a laugh, a thin, involuntary treble, which caused Ramsey visibly to flinch. "Ramsey!" entreated her mother again, but---- "Just this one moment, beloved mom-a! Listen, oh, listen, everybody! to my midnight thought!" The rhapsodist struck a stiffer pose and began with all her voice, "Since infinite space is lighted only by the stars! their rush and roll--te rum te riddle, te rum te ree----" "Ramsey!" "--Is an eternal starlight!" The girl hugged and kissed her black nurse: "Oh, mammy Joy! is that absurd to you?"