ome now!" cries he, dissembling great candor and heartiness, "is you
got any questions t' ask ol' Nick Top?"

"No, sir," I answered, quite confidently.

"Dannie, lad," says my uncle, unable to contain his delight, with
which, indeed, his little eyes brimmed over, "an ye'd jus' be so
damned good as t' tweak that there--"

I pulled the bell-cord.

"A nip o' the best Jamaica," says he.

Old Elihu Wall fetched the red dram.

"Lad," says my uncle, his glass aloft, his eyes resting upon me in
pride, his voice athrill with passionate conviction, "here's t' _you_!
That's good o' you," says he. "That's very good. I 'low I've fetched
ye up very well. Ecod!" he swore, with most reverent and gentle
intention, "ye'll be a gentleman afore ye knows it!"

He downed the liquor with a grin that came over his lurid countenance
like a burst of low sunshine.

"A gentleman," he repeated, "in spite o' Chesterfield!"

When my uncle was gone, I commanded my reflections elsewhere,
prohibited by honor from dwelling upon the wretched mystery in which I
was enmeshed. They ran with me to the fool of Twist Tickle. The
weather had turned foul: 'twas blowing up from the north in a way to
make housed folk shiver for their fellows at sea. Evil sailing on the
Labrador! I wondered how the gentle weakling fared as cook of the
_Quick as Wink_. I wondered in what harbor he lay, in the blustering
night, or off what coast he tossed. I wondered what trouble he had
within his heart. I wished him home again: but yet remembered, with
some rising of hope, that his amazing legacy of wisdom had in all
things been sufficient to his need. Had he not in peace and
usefulness walked the paths of the world where wiser folk had gone
with bleeding feet? 'Twas dwelling gratefully upon this miracle of
wisdom and love, a fool's inheritance, that I, who had no riches of
that kind, fell asleep, without envy or perturbation, that night.

* * * * *

'Twas not long I had to wait to discover the fortune of the fool upon
that voyage. We were not three days returned from the city when the
_Quick as Wink_ slipped into our harbor. She had been beating up all
afternoon; 'twas late of a dark night when she dropped anchor. John
Cather was turned in, Judith long ago whisked off to bed by our
maid-servant; my uncle and I sat alone together when the rattle of the
chain apprised us that the schooner was in the shelter of the Lost
Soul.

B