Beth's countenance dropped: "O papa!" she exclaimed, "it's something I don't want to promise." "Well, never mind that, Beth," he answered. "Just promise this one thing to please me. If you don't, the people will try and kill you." "I don't mind that," said Beth. "But I do--and your mother does." Beth gave her mother a look of such utter astonishment, that the poor lady turned crimson. "And perhaps they'll kill me too," Captain Caldwell resumed. "You see they nearly did to-night." This was a veritable inspiration. Beth turned pale, and gasped: "I promise!" "Not so fast," her father said. "Never promise anything till you hear what it is. But now, promise you won't say bad luck to any of the people again." "I promise," Beth repeated; "but"--she slid from the table, and nodded emphatically--"but when I shake my fist and stamp my foot at them it'll mean the same thing." It was found next morning that Bap-faced Flanagan and Tony-kill-the-cow had disappeared from the township; but Murphy remained; and Beth was not allowed to go out alone again for a long time, not even into the garden. All she knew about it herself, however, was, that she had always either a policeman or a coastguardsman to talk to, which added very much to her pleasure in life, and also to Anne's. CHAPTER IX One of the interests of Captain Caldwell's life was his garden. He spent long hours in cultivating it, and that summer his vegetables, fruits, and flowers had been the wonder of the neighbourhood. But now autumn had come, vegetables were dug, fruits gathered, flowers bedraggled; and there was little to be done but clear the beds, plant them with bulbs, and prepare them for the spring. Now that Captain Caldwell had made Beth's acquaintance, he liked to have her with him to help him when he was at work in the garden, and there was nothing that she loved so much. One day they were at work together on a large flower-bed. Her father was trimming some rose-bushes, and she was kneeling beside him on a little mat, weeding. "I'm glad I'm not a flower," she suddenly exclaimed, after a long silence. "Why, Beth, flowers are very beautiful." "Yes, but they last so short a time. I'd rather be less beautiful, and live longer. What's your favourite flower, papa?" She had stopped weeding for the moment, but still sat on the mat, looking up at him. Captain Caldwell clipped a little more, then stopped too, and looked down at her. "I don't get a separate pleasure from any particular flower, Beth; they all delight me," he answered.