“Pay him back! Yes, I guess so! And to think that you are my half-brother and Esther’s own uncle! Well, I have shirked my duty long enough. Now it is time I began to do it. I don’t know who would hire you for a steady job at hard work, but perhaps there is some one. I might be able to coax Seth Francis to ship you aboard his schooner for a trip to the Banks. It would take a lot of coaxin’, but I might; he hasn’t lived in Harniss very long, so he doesn’t know you quite as well as the rest of us. No, I won’t hear another word. Go to bed!” So the future, as Mr. Clark was viewing it through the little panes of the post office window, was far from alluring. He almost wished that he had not attempted winning Foster Townsend’s favor by revealing the secret of the meeting on the lower road. Of course his sister had not been in earnest when she threatened him with a trip to the Banks as green hand on a fishing boat, but--well, she would never again trust him. His easy berth in the post office, with its ample leisure, its opportunities to show off and to air his importance before his fellow townsmen, his comfortable room in the cottage, his three well-cooked meals a day--all these were in danger. Reliance was thoroughly angry. He was in disgrace. The more he reflected the more uneasy he became and, although he resented his imprisonment behind the letter boxes, he resolved to serve out his term, no matter how long it might be, with an assumption of cheerful eagerness. He considered himself a persecuted martyr, but he would play the rôle of a sinner seeking forgiveness. It was a polite pretense which had worked well on other occasions; it might work even in the present crisis. About ten o’clock he saw, through the window, Reliance Clark enter the yard. Esther Townsend was with her and they went into the house together. It was after twelve when they came out. They separated at the gate, Esther walked away along the sidewalk and her aunt entered the millinery shop. Millard heard her speak with Miss Makepeace; then she opened the door of the little room. “Your dinner is ready,” she announced, curtly. “Go in and eat it this minute.” Mr. Clark was smilingly eager. “All right, Reliance,” he agreed. “Yes, yes, just as you say, of course. You have had your dinner already, have you?” “I have, all I want. I’m not hungry to-day.” “Ain’t you? Well, now that’s too bad. I am afraid you have been workin’ too hard. Say, why don’t you go and lay down a spell? Never mind about me. I can get along without eatin’. I’ll stay here and attend to everything and you just--” “Sshh! Go in and eat your dinner. And hurry up about it. I want you here when the mail comes. You understand that? All right. Then go.” Millard went. He was back before the arrival of the mail.