"'Bout him in the city!" The past misery shook Billy's voice. "He--he didn't marry her! He went away an' left her! The poor little wrecked soul came back here, havin' no other harbor in all God's world, an' she knew she could trust me an' the love I allus had fur her. Her faith steered her true! She didn't want t' let me take the course I laid out; she said it wasn't fair t' me. Lord! not fair t' me! She never would tell me his name. She wanted t' forgit everythin'. It made her shiver t' talk, even, of the city. She didn't want no help 'long o' him who had deserted her, an' I never pestered her none. Then I--married her. Davy, he backed me up, an' he an' Susan Jane went t' Bay End an' saw us married. Susan Jane kept her visitin' over at the Light till I took her, calm an' easy-like, t' the parson, an' most folks never guessed the real truth. An' then we come over here fur a little while, such a little while! I never seen a more grateful critter than she was. She never seemed t' take int' 'count the joy 't was fur me to serve her an' chirp her up. I fixed the little place fur her, an' I took my traps t' the lean-to so as t' give her plenty o' room, an' by an' by, like it sometimes happens after a stormy, lowerin' day, the sun bu'st through, an' toward the close the glory seemed right startlin'. I can see her face a shinin' now every time I shet my eyes. An' she grew that wise an' far-seein' that it made me oneasy. 'T warn't nateral, an' she such a soft little thin'!" Billy passed his rough hand over his dry, hot lips. "Then you come, an' she slipped her moorin's." The two were staring dumbly, sufferingly, at each other. Billy saw the agony he had awakened and his heart sank within him. After a moment of silent doubt, Janet arose and stood in front of Billy, laying her cold hands upon his shoulders. There was no need for her news now! "My Cap'n," she whispered, with a fervor Billy had never heard in her voice before; "my Cap'n, I am a woman, a woman like my mother. Tell me, as true as heaven, am I your Janet and hers?" Billy's deep eyes pleaded for mercy, but the woman before him would not relent. There was a heartrending pause, then: "No, ye ain't! God help us, ye ain't! But He's let me love ye like ye was--an' that's been my reward." Janet shut her eyes for a moment and clung to Billy. In that space of time it was given to her to see a way to redeem the past. When she opened her eyes, the misery was gone. She was smiling, and there was no mist between her and Billy. She went beside him and drew his shaggy head upon her strong breast as a mother might have done; then she bent and kissed him. "Dear, dear Cap'n Daddy! I see it all. My mother was wondrous wise when she took you for her pilot. Oh! my Daddy--for you are my father. In all the world there never was such a father! We'll cling close, Daddy, won't we, dear? Nobody shall ever come between us, promise that, oh, promise it!"