"Go on, Sale," he said, quietly. "Finish up, now you're about it." "There ain't but a little more," said the old sailor, speaking half to himself. "It behoved to be a good voyage, for it was the last. Cap'n fit hard, and she fit for him, but 'twas not so to be. The p'ison, or whatever 'twas, had got too strong a holt on him; he couldn't shake it. But yet for awhile, when we was nearin' home, he seemed to gain up a mite, and would come up on deck, and set and see her take the observation, and pass the time of day with the boys. Looked like his shadow, he did, and white as his shirt under the tan; but his courage was good, and he was allers sayin' he'd get well so soon as he was to home. "'Home, Marshy!' he'd say. 'We'll be there soon, little woman!' "And she'd nod and smile, and say they would so, sure enough; and Bob Moon'd go off and cry behind a bo't. I punched his head good every time I co't him at it, fear they'd notice, but I don't think they did, they was wropped up in each other. "Wal, at last and finally, sure enough we sighted Quahaug P'int. It was a fine day, I ric'llect, south by west, clear and warm; pretty a day as ever I see. Cap'n was on deck, and he was mighty weak that day. His voice was no more'n a whisper, but yet cheerful, you understand, and he had a word for every one that come by, and we all made out _to_ come by, one errant or another. She was sittin' beside him, fannin' him, and talkin' away easy and pleasant, tellin' how that they'd be in soon now, and Lucy--that was Mis' Blyth, their daughter, Arthur's mother--would be comin' from the West to visit 'em, and all; and Cap'n listened, and seemed real pleased, and put in a word now and again. "I was standin' close by, makin' believe tinker somethin',--I was allers nigh hand them days, case o' need,--when the lookout says, 'Quahaug P'int in sight, Cap'n! 'and we looked, and there it was, sure enough, and the sun goin' down behind it, and the water all the likeness of gold in between. Cap'n raised his head, and begun to talk sudden and quick. 'Marshy,' he says, 'I couldn't find a pineapple this mornin',' he says; 'but here's custard-apples and turtles' eggs; we'll manage to make out a breakfast,' he says. I looked up at him, and his eyes were bright as lamps, and his cheeks like fire. Mis' Tree put her hand on his arm, quiet like. 'That's just as good, Ethan,' she says. 'Them's beautiful,' she says; 'I was gettin' kinder tired of pineapples.' Then he goes on, sort o' like talkin' to himself. 'True blue, little Marshy!' he says. 'True blue, little wife! we'll get home yet; safe home, safe home!' "Then all of a suddent he riz up to his feet, stood up every inch of him,--he was a tall man,--and stands lookin' out forrard. 'Sail ho!' he says, 'sail ho! we'll see home again, home!' and he dropped back in her arms, and his sperit passed." CHAPTER XII. MISS WAX AT HOME