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THE ISLE OF SEVEN MOONS

wouldn't it now? Anyway, I love him and I can't help crying—" and forthwith she began to do so, on his shoulder. It was in truth a little unusual for Sally, for she had never been of the lachrymose sort or one who used such strategy to gain her ends. But it was natural enough. The year's strain had told heavily.

And, of course, like all strong men he was as helpless at this sight as Samson under the more designed wiles of Delilah, and he said, "There, there," as they always do, and he patted her shoulder, as they always do, and then, of course, she dried her tears, and both were fairly rational human beings again.

"I meant to go, all along, Sally, but I didn't know about taking you. They'll have me in irons for kidnapping or abduction. Your poor father! But I'll risk it. We'll find that island somehow—and the lad who's stirred up this confounded mess."

So when the tide was right they sailed away. And in the cabin Sally wrote a note to Cap'n Bluster, which they gave to a passing ship headed for Boston-town, and she smiled happily as she stood by the wheel, while Cap'n Harve paced the quarter-deck, and the great sails bellied, and the ship held up to her course, and headed due south.