ir
guns overboard, an' demoralized 'em ginerally. They took to their boats
an' paddled off, what was left of 'em, an' he an' his crew sarched the
schooner, an' found a woman locked up in the cabin,--an Injin princess,
father said she was,--an' they holdin' her for ransom. Wal, Father found
out somehow whar she come from,--Javy, or Mochy, or some o' them places
out o' the spice-box,--an' he took her home, an' hunted up her parents
an' guardeens, an' handed her over safe an' sound. They--the
guardeens--was gret people whar they lived, an' they wanted to give
Father a pot o' money; but he said he warn't that kind. 'I'm a Yankee
skipper!' says he. ''Twas as good as a meal o' vittles to me to smash
that black feller!' says he. '_I_ don't want no pay for it. An' as for
the lady, 'twas a pleasure to obleege her,' he says; 'an' I'd do it agin
_any_ day in the week, _'xcept_ Sunday, when I don't fight, ez a rewl,
when I kin help it.' Then the princess, she tried to kiss his hand; but
Father said he guessed that warn't quite proper, an' the guardeens
seemed to think so too. So then she took a ruby necklace off her neck
(she was all done up in shawls, Father said, an' silk, an' gold chains,
an' fur an' things, so 's 't he couldn' see nothin' but her eyes; but
they was better wuth seein' than any other woman's hull face that ever
_he_ see), and gave it to him, an' made signs that he _must_ keep that,
anyhow. Then she said somethin' to one o' the guardeens who spoke a
little Portuguese, Father understandin' it a little too, and he told
Father she said these was the drops of her blood he had saved, an' he
must keep it to remember her. Jest like drops of blood, he said the
rubies was, strung along on a gold chain. So he took it, an' said he
warn't likely to forget about it; an' then he made his bow, an' the
guardeens said he was their father, an' their mother, an' their
great-aunt, an' I d' 'no' what all, an' made him stay to supper, an' he
didn't eat nothin' for a week arterward."

The farmer paused, and Hildegarde drew a long breath, "_Oh!_" she cried,
"what a delightful story, Farmer Hartley! And you don't believe it? _I_
do, every word of it! I am _sure_ it is true!"

"Wal, ye see," said the farmer, meditatively; "Ef' t was true, what
become o' the necklace? That's what _I_ say. Father believed it, sure
enough, and he thought he hed that necklace, as sure as you think you
hev that bunnit in yer hand. But 'twarn't never found, hid