Of course I dashed down to the shore as soon as people came to tell me what had happened, and naturally I got into everybody’s way.  It was strange to see how these very rough-looking men took hold of poor Daddy.  They were just as gentle as could be, and made an arrangement of fish-carrying barrows upon which they lifted him up and brought him to the house.

I was weeping all this time and Daddy consoled me by telling me not to be a fool.  Susie, our new handmaiden, simply howled.  We were bundled out, chiefly by Daddy’s language, and clamored for a doctor.  It actually transpired that there was one in the place, to my infinite relief.  The fact that he was gone to a little island away out at sea appeared to be but an insignificant detail.  An ancient mariner whom Coleridge must have been acquainted with promised to go and bring him back.  If the weather did not turn out too badly he would return in three or four hours.  He informed me that it was beginning to look very nasty outside.  It always does, in such cases, I believe.

I spent the afternoon trying to do all I could for Daddy, and occasionally climbed up on the cliff nearly adjoining our house, to watch for the boat.  An abominable fog began to come up, rolling before a dreadful wind, and I moistened more handkerchiefs, since it was perfectly evident to me that no small boat would ever return to land in such a blow.  Susie told me that I must not despair, and that people did really manage to work fishing boats in such weather, sometimes.  I considered her to be a cheerful prevaricator, and told her she didn’t know what she was talking about.  At this she curtsied humbly and assented with the “Yis, ma’am” of the lowly, and all I could do was to keep on despairing.

It was really the most dismal afternoon I ever spent, and when it began to get dark I gave up all hope.  After I had become thoroughly saturated with misery Susie came to me, grinning.

“I’s heerd men a comin’,” she told me.  “Like as not it’s th’ doctor.”

I dashed out of the front door and met two dreadful looking creatures in oilskins.  As one of them was the ancient mariner I made up my mind he had failed in his mission.  But the other stared at me for an instant, quietly stepped on the few planks we call the porch, and began to shed his outer skin, which fell with a flop.

“Are you the doctor?” I finally asked him.

He bowed, very civilly, followed me into the house, and the other man placidly sat down on the porch, while the slanting rain rattled on his armour.  I need hardly tell you that these people are as amphibious as manatees.

Once within doors I scrutinized the doctor.  He was a rather nice tall chap with hair showing slightly the dearth of barbers in Sweetapple Cove, a fact Daddy had informed himself of, for I had seen him looking disconsolately at a safety razor.  This man was also rather badly unshaven, and a blue flannel shirt with a sodden string of a necktie formed part of his apparel.  I have seen healthy longshoremen rather more neatly garbed.  I’m afraid that at first I was badly disappointed.