"And yet I'll be bound," said the Old Sailor, looking steadily at Joshua, and compelling Joshua to return his gaze, "that there was something which you might have spoken of had you not been restrained by a feeling, say, of kindness to Dan. What, now?" "There was something, sir," replied Joshua, wondering what this conversation, so singularly commenced, would lead to. "Ah!" ejaculated the Old Sailor, rubbing his knees in a satisfied manner; "let us hear what that something was." "You speak so earnestly, sir," said Joshua, inwardly questioning himself, "that I must be careful not to conceal any thing from you--not that I have any reason nor that I wish to do so, but something might escape me. I must first say, though that you must not expect me to break any confidence--that supposing Dan had a secret, and had imparted it to me, I should not be justified in telling that secret to any one else." "Fair and honest, my lad; what I expected from you." "Well, then, I have been sorry to find that Mr. Kindred"-- "Minnie's father--yes," interrupted the Old Sailor, with a sharp look at Joshua. "Has been changed to all of us lately, and especially to me; and I have been sorry to think that it is because of something which I have done that he is so changed." "You know of nothing, Josh?" "Nothing--absolutely nothing; and that's what grieves me. If I did know, I should be able to justify myself. Why, sir, this morning he refused to see me when I went to wish him good-by, and refused to let me see Minnie. I did not speak of this thing to Dan because of my love for him." "And because," said the Old Sailor, "supposing that Dan had a secret and had imparted it to you, you thought that Dan would be easier in his mind--in consequence of his secret--if he did not know of Mr. Kindred's strange refusal to see you." "Just so, sir." "Could I guess this secret of Dan's?" questioned the Old Sailor. "Could an old tar like me, who wouldn't be supposed to know much of boys and girls and their whims and whams, venture to guess that this secret of our dear friend Dan's was all about a woman?" Joshua did not reply. "And such a woman!" continued the Old Sailor. "With eyes as bright as the stars, and with hair like a mermaid's. As cunning as a mermaid too; not wickedly cunning--no, no; but 'tis in her to be so; and she needs weaning from it, like a babe." Very gentle was the Old Sailor's voice; and greatly did Joshua wonder, not at its gentleness, for that was natural to the old man, but at the wisdom of the words that came from his lips. All his roughness was gone; all his pleasantry was gone; all his simplicity was laid aside for the time; and the Old Sailor spoke as if all his life he had been studying woman's nature until he was master of its complexities. But such deep wisdom often comes from very simplicity. "Lord love you, my lad!" he said, "how blind you have been! Here has been a woman's heart laid bare to you, and you have not suspected it."