“You!” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” cried Dickory; “and you look just the same as when you first put your head above the bushes and talked to me.”
“Except that I am more suitably clothed,” she said.
And she was entirely right, for her present dress was feminine, and extremely becoming.
Dickory did not wish to say anything more on this subject, and so he remarked: “I have just arrived at the town, and I came directly here.”
Lucilla blushed again.
“This is my old home,” added Dickory.
“But you knew we were here?” she asked, with a hesitating look of inquiry.
“Oh, yes,” said he, “I knew that the house had been let to your father.”
Now she changed colour twice—first red, then white. “Are you,” she said, “I mean ... the other, is she—”
“I left her in Jamaica,” said Dickory, “but I am going to marry her.”
For a moment the rim of her hat got between the sun and her face, and one could not decide very well whether her countenance was red or white.
“I am very glad to find you here,” said Dickory, “and may I see your father and mother?”
“Yes,” said she, “but they are both in the field with my young sister. But who is this man walking up the shore? And is that the boat you came in?”
“It is,” said Dickory. “We stuck fast, but I was in such a hurry that I waded ashore. I don’t know the man; he had hired the boat, and kindly took me in, I was in such haste to get here.”
For a moment Lucilla bent her eyes on the ground. “In such haste to get here!” she said to herself; then she raised her head and exclaimed: “Oh, I know that man; he is the pirate captain who captured the Belinda, which afterward brought us here.” And with both hands outstretched, she ran to meet him.
The face of Captain Ichabod glowed with irrepressible delight; one might have thought he was about to embrace the young woman, notwithstanding the presence of Dickory and the two boatmen, but he did everything he could do before witnesses to express his joy.
Dickory now stepped up to Captain Ichabod. “Oh, now I know you,” cried he, and he held out his hand. “You were very kind indeed to my friends, and they have spoken much about you. This is my old home; this is the house where I was born.”
“Yes, yes, indeed,” said Captain Ichabod, “a very good house, bedad, a very good house.” But hesitating a little and addressing Lucilla: “You don’t live here alone, do you?”
The girl laughed.
“Oh, no,” she cried. “My father and mother will be here presently; in fact, I see them coming.”
“That’s very well,” said Ichabod, “very well indeed. It’s quite right that they should live with you. I remember them now; they were on the ship with you.”
“Oh, yes,” said Lucilla, still laughing.
“Quite right, quite right,” said Ichabod; “that was very right.”