“And that return must take place, young lady, as soon as I have drunk two cups of your tea.  I have patients at the Harbour who must yet be visited this evening, and the wind goes down with the sun.  Let the poor man take the draughts I have left for him—­they will soothe him, and help his breathing—­more than this my skill can do nothing for him.  Deacon, you need say nothing of this visit—­I am sufficiently repaid by the air, the sail, and Miss Mary’s welcome.  I perceive that she is glad to see me, and that is something, between so young a woman and so old a man.  And now for the two cups of tea.”

The tea was drunk, and the doctor took his leave, shaking his head as he repeated to the niece, that the medical science could do nothing for the sick man.

“Let his friends know his situation at once, deacon,” he said, as they walked towards the wharf, where the whale-boat was all ready for a start.  “There is not an hour to lose.  Now I think of it, the Flash, captain Smith, is to take a cargo of oil to Boston, and sails to-morrow.  I can write a line by her, as it is ten to one she will go into the Hole.  All our craft get into that Hole, or into Tarpaulin Cove, before they venture across the Shoals; and a letter addressed to any person of the name of Daggett might find the right man.  I’ll write it this very evening.”

The announcement of this intention threw the deacon into a cold-sweat, but he did not think it prudent to say aught against it.  He had bought the Sea Lion, engaged Roswell Gardiner, and otherwise expended a large sum of money, in the expectation of handling those doubloons, to say nothing of the furs; and here was a chance of all his calculations being defeated by the interference of impertinent and greedy relatives!  There was no remedy but patience, and this the deacon endeavoured to exercise.

Deacon Pratt did not accompany the doctor beyond the limits of his own orchard.  It was not deemed seemly for a member of the meeting to be seen walking out on the Sabbath, and this was remembered in season to prevent neighbourly comments.  It is true, the doctor might furnish an apology; but, your strictly religious people, when they undertake the care of other people’s consciences, do not often descend to these particulars.

No sooner had Gardiner and the physician re-embarked than the deacon returned to the cottage of the Widow White.  Here he had another long and searching discourse with the sick mariner.  Poor Daggett was wearied with the subject; but Dr. Sage’s predictions of an early termination of the case, and the possibility that kinsmen might cross over from the ‘Vineyard,’ in order to learn what the long absent man had in his possession, acted on him as keen incentives.  By learning the most material facts now, the Sea Lion might get so far ahead of all competitors as to secure the prizes, even should Daggett let others into the secret, and start another vessel on the same expedition.  His own schooner was nearly ready for sea, whereas time would be needed in order to make an entire outfit.