Sam as he sat in the stern, his
arm resting upon the tiller and one leg crossed leisurely over the
other, his protruding slipper lighted up by the rays of the setting sun.

"'What is the matter with him?' asked Mr. Rippledean. 'Is he crazy? Does
he really think of forcing us to remain here until he shall be married?
I never heard anything--'

"'So delightfully absurd,' interrupted Miss Denby.

"'There's nothin' crazy about Sam Twitty,' said Captain Abner. 'He's as
sound as a nut, body and soul. But when Sam makes up his mind he sticks
to it. Now sometimes when I make up my mind I don't stick to it. He's a
good man all around, and he's got enough to live on, though he never was
a cap'n; but you couldn't find a better fust mate than him, or a better
sailor, except perhaps somebody what's had a leetle more experience.
Sam made up his mind that we was all comin' out here for a weddin',
everything fallin' together exactly to suit, wind and tide and
everything else. But Sam ain't goin' to force nobody to do nothin'; he
ain't that kind. All he's goin' to do is to stay here till he's
married.'

"The girl of the buggy clapped her hands. 'Oh, that is fine!' she cried.
'It is like lifting you up on a horse and dashing away with you. Oh,
dear Mrs. Sickles, take pity on him and on all of us. If you do not, I
shall have to talk to him myself and see if I--'

"Mrs. Sickles was not inclined to give attention to any such idle words
as these, and she stepped up to Captain Abner.

"'You seem to think very well of Mr. Twitty, sir,' she said.

"'Indeed I do,' he answered. 'There ain't nobody I think more of, on
watch or below, in storm or fine weather, take him as you find him, than
I do of him.'

"Sam Twitty had not heard any of the remarks which had been made on
shore; he had been communing with himself: but now his active mind would
no longer permit him to sit still. Springing to his feet, he stepped
forward and stood up in the bow of the boat, and cast his eye over the
little party in front of him. Then he spoke:

"'Mrs. Sickles, I want to put a p'int to you that's been put to you
afore, but I want to put it a little different. If there was a gilded
idol and a king conch-shell that you knowed of, and you was asked which
of them you would like to have for your own, and you only could have
one--'

"'Oh, dear!' exclaimed Miss Denby, 'here is that delightful gilded idol
and conch-shell again! I wonder what they will do now!'