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"Old Harbour Town, England," responded Captain Weaver. "But, Billy Bye, supposin' the cold-eyed burruds an' the hissin' serpents should be returnin' to threaten me wance ag'in?" Tonight as Hinter rode through the pine-scented gloom the light-house keeper sat in his big chair beside the window that looked upon the lake. Spent from a trying fit of coughing, his nerves crying for the rest which was denied him, the sick man had gazed across to where the shuttle of sunset was weaving its fabric of changing colors upon sky and water. But he had not seen those glad lights; had not heard the cries of the haven-seeking gulls or the soft plaintive notes of the night birds from the Point forest. The lights had flashed and departed unseen, the wild calls had been voiced and sunk to silence unheard, because a tenderer light, which had belonged to this, his own hour, had vanished; a sweeter song than even night birds could voice had been stilled—the light in his Erie's eyes and the low notes from her glad heart..
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"And ut's married they were this mornin', whilst the dew still clung to the mosses, and ut's meself was witness to the j'inin' av two av the tinderest hearts in all the wurruld." Old Harry O'Dule, on his rounds to spread the joyful tidings of Frank and Erie's marriage, had met Billy leading a fat bay horse along a sun-streaked forest path. "The best of fathers have known your lot, sir," answered Captain Weaver. "There is no need to go to the Old Testament to learn that." "An' phwat is ut?" Old Harry's interest was real. He laid his pipe down on the table and leaned towards Billy. "Have you told Mr. Hinter yet?" she asked suddenly..
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