peak; so he let her flutter
about--brightening the fire, putting to right things that were right
enough as they were, and making a pretense of being busied with
household cares. At length, there was nothing more to do except to wind
the clock, which stood on the mantel, over the hearth. Here was her
opportunity. "The evening has seemed very long," she said, "but it is
nine o'clock, at last."

Chillis got up, went to the door, and opened it. The boat was bumping
against the floor of the tiny portico. She saw it, too, and her heart
gave a great bound. Chillis came back, and sat down by the fire, looking
very grave and preoccupied. With a little shiver, she sat down opposite.
It was clear that he had no intention of going; and, strange as she felt
the situation to be, she experienced a sort of relief that he was there.
She was not a cowardly woman, nor was her guest one she would have been
likely to appeal to in any peril; but, since a possible peril had come,
and he was there of his own accord, she owned to herself she was not
sorry. She was a woman, any way, and must needs require services of men,
whoever they might be. Having disposed of this question, it occurred to
her to be gracious to the man whose services she had made up her mind to
accept. Glancing into his face, she noticed its pallor; and then
remembered what he had said about being capsized in the bay, and that he
was an old man; and then, that he might not have had any supper. All of
which inspired her to say, "I beg pardon, Mr. Chillis. I presume you
have eaten nothing this evening. I shall get you something, right
away--a cup of hot coffee, for instance." And, without waiting to hear
his faint denial, Mrs. Smiley made all haste to put her hospitable
intentions into practice, and soon had spread a little table with a very
appetizing array of cold meats, fruit, bread, and coffee.

While her guest, with a few words of thanks, accepted and disposed of
the refreshments, Mrs. Smiley sat and gazed at the fire in her turn. The
little cottage trembled, the windows rattled, the storm roared without,
and--yes, the water actually lapped against the house! She started,
turning to the door. The wind was driving the flood in under it. She
felt a chill run through her flesh.

"Mr. Chillis, the water is really coming into the house!"

"Yes, I reckoned that it would," returned the old man, calmly, rising
from the table and returning to the hearth. "That is the nicest supp