an in the fishing-boat raised himself to his full height and
stared as incredulously as though he beheld a mermaid. He was an old
man, but straight and tall, and the oysterman's boots stretching to his
hips made him appear even taller than he was. He had a bristling white
beard and his face was tanned to a fierce copper color, but his eyes
were blue and young and gentle. They lit suddenly with excitement and
sympathy.

"Are you from the Patience?" he shouted. In chorus we answered that we
were, and Ivy pulled the yawl alongside the fisherman's boat.

But already the old man had turned and, making a megaphone of his hands,
was shouting to the cottage.

"Mother!" he cried, "mother, here are folks from the wreck. Get coffee
and blankets and--and bacon--and eggs!"

"May the Lord bless him!" exclaimed the Lady Moya devoutly.

But Aldrich, excited and eager, pulled out a roll of bills and shook
them at the man.

"Do you want to earn ten dollars?" he demanded; "then chase yourself to
the village and bring the constable."

Lady Moya exclaimed bitterly, Lord Ivy swore, Kinney in despair uttered
a dismal howl and dropped his head in his hands.

"It's no use, Mr. Aldrich," I said. Seated in the stern, the others had
hidden me from the fisherman. Now I stood up and he saw me. I laid one
hand on his, and pointed to the tin badge on his suspender.

"He is the village constable himself," I explained. I turned to the
lovely lady. "Lady Moya," I said, "I want to introduce you to my
father!" I pointed to the vine-covered cottage. "That's my home,"
I said. I pointed to the sleeping town. "That," I told her, "is the
village of Fairport. Most of it belongs to father. You are all very
welcome."

End of Project Gutenberg's The Make-Believe Man, by Richard Harding Davis

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