"There's no doubt Salem has the lead in the foreign trade, but we're going to be pushed hard the next few years. Other cities have found out the profit in it. But we've some of the best captains, and that's what I mean to be myself."

At Calcutta they still held a warm remembrance of Captain Anthony Leverett. And Marsh thought it quite a wonderful thing that the little girl had gone back and forth and braved all the perils. He told them of a pirate ship they had once battled with and the rich stores they had taken from her. The prisoners had been left on an island.

"But--how would they get to their homes?" she asked.

"Oh, that wasn't our lookout. They'd have done the same thing to us if they could, maybe worse. Occasionally vessels are wrecked, and sometimes it is months before a ship goes that way and sees their signal."

Yes, she was glad nothing of the kind had happened to her. And Chilian, watching the little shiver, gave thanks also.

Thomas Marsh enjoyed these evenings wonderfully. He was always glancing at Cynthia to see if what he said met with her approval. It seemed so strangely sweet to be thrilled at the tones of her voice and the touch of her hand. And when she looked up and smiled, the blood surged to his brain. He was quite a favorite with the girls, but no other one had that power over him.

Of course, they met here and there at the different companies--he never went unless she was sure to be there, and if he asked she answered frankly. Cousin Chilian took her down to see the _Vixen_, which was nearly ready for her new cruise. He was very proud of her, so was Captain Langfelt, and they had some tea in the cabin. But some sudden knowledge came to Chilian Leverett, and he was sincerely glad the young man was going away.

The evening Thomas Marsh came in to say good-bye, she was alone.

"You'll find Miss Cynthia up in the study," said Jane, and thither he went two steps at a time. She had on a soft gown, and he thought she looked like some lovely flower as she rose to greet him.

"I believe we are to sail to-morrow. Stores and cargo are all in, and now the captain is in haste to be off. Come down about eleven in the morning and wish me G.o.d-speed, a safe journey, and a happy return."

"Yes. We were talking of it to-day. Oh, I hope you will have all, though a great many things happen in three years." Neither of them, indeed no one, could have predicted what was to happen in those eventful three years.

They discussed the pleasant times, the girls and boys who had grown up and married during the whole seven years of his absence. Oh, how sweet and pretty she was! He envied the boys like Bentley Upham and two or three others who had business at home--but no, he never could have been anything but a sailor.

Then he rose to go. He stood holding her hand and the red and white kept flitting over her face, her eyes were so soft and dark. They would haunt him many a night on the deck.

"It's best that I am going so soon," he began in a rather tremulous voice. "Do you remember what your uncle was reading the other day about the man who wanted to be lashed to the mast when they pa.s.sed the Syrens?

It would be that way with me if I staid much longer. I--I wouldn't be able to help loving you, and I doubt whether it would be a good thing for either of us. I've tried all along to keep it to a plain, honest like, but I know now it is more than that. I shall take away with me the remembrance of the sweetest girl in all the world, and I have no right to spoil her life. But sometimes maybe you'll think of a far-away lad, who sends you his love and the best wishes for your happiness with the man you will love best of all."

Then he pressed her hand to his lips and went slowly down the stairs.

She heard the door shut. And, foolish girl, she sat down and cried, and there Cousin Chilian found her, and had to listen and absolve.

"No," he said, "it would not do for you to have a sailor lad. Your tender heart would break with the anxiety. He's a nice, upright fellow, and he will never shirk a duty. But you----" What should he say to her?

"I want to stay here. Oh, I wonder if you will like me when I get as old as Cousin Eunice, and the world will change and improve and I shall be queer and old-fashioned?"

He held her in his arms, but he was shocked to find what was in his own heart.

CHAPTER XVI

PERILOUS PATHS

Avis Manning's "Company" was one of the events of the season. She was a full-fledged young lady, and knowing she could have her choice of the young men of Salem, was rather difficult to capture. She and her brother-in-law were very good friends, but not lovers. And Laura, who knew where his fancy lay, counselled him to go slowly, though she was quite sure he would win in the end.

"You see, she is like a child to Mr. Chilian Leverett, and he is loath to part with her. But all girls do marry sooner or later, and he isn't selfish enough to want her to stay single. If he was not so much older he might marry her--they are not own cousins, you know."

"He marry her! Why, he's getting to be quite an old man," and there was a touch of disdain in his tone. "But there's half a dozen others----"

"It's queer, but she isn't a flirt. She's one of the sweetest of girls--she was, at school. And with her fortune she might hold herself high. They say the Boston trustee has doubled some of it that he invested."

"I wish she hadn't a cent!" the young man flung out angrily.

"Well, money is not to be despised. She'll get a little tired by and by, and long for a home and children of her own, as we all do. And if you haven't found any one else----"

"I never shall find any one like her;" gloomily.

"Oh, there are a great many nice girls in the world."

Avis knew all the best people in Salem, it was not so large, after all.

And they came to the beautiful house and made merry, played "guessing words"--what we call charades, quite a new thing then--and it made no end of merriment. Of course, Cynthia was in them, was arch and piquant, and delighted the audience. Then they had supper and more dancing. One of the Turner boys, Archibald, hovered about Cynthia like a shadow.

There was Ben Upham, but Edward Saltonstall warded them off to her satisfaction. But Bella Turner was shortly to be married, and Archie would have her for that evening surely.

She and Mr. Saltonstall were very good friends. He was a little older than the others, and grown wary by experience. But it was queer that half a dozen girls were pulling straws for him and here was one who did not care, would not raise a finger, but, oh, how sweet her smiles were.

"If you are a bridesmaid the third time, you will never be a bride,"

said some of the wiseacres.

Cynthia tossed her proud, dainty head and laughed over it to Cousin Chilian. He looked a little grave.

"Would you mind if I were an old maid? I wouldn't really be _old_ in a long while, you know. And you will always want some one. If anything should happen to Cousin Eunice, how lonely you would be."

"Yes, if you went away."

"I don't care for any of them very much. I like Mr. Saltonstall the best. He isn't quite so young, so--so sort of impetuous. And the boys get jealous."

Then it was likely to be Mr. Saltonstall, after all! Was he going to be narrow and mean enough to keep her out of what was best in a woman's life? But he looked down the dreary years without her. He could not attach himself to the world of business as Cousin Giles did. Some of these young fellows might come into a sort of sonship with him--there was Anthony Drayton.

Why was it his soul protested against them? He did not understand the deep underlying dissent that made a cruel discordance in his desire for her happiness.

Mr. Saltonstall walked home from church with her and Miss Winn. And he came in one evening to ask some advice. He had cudgelled his brain for days to find just the right subject. That ended, they had a talk about chess--that was becoming quite an interest in some circles. There were several moves that puzzled him.

"Come in some evening and talk them over," said Mr. Leverett.

Edward Saltonstall wondered at the favor of the G.o.ds and accepted. Not as if he was in any vulgar hurry, but he dropped in, politely social, and asked if he should disturb them. Chilian had been reading Southey's "Thalaba."

"Oh, no. We often read in the evening," said Cynthia.

She was netting a bead bag, an industry all the rage then among the women. They really were prettier than the samplers. But she rose and brought the box of chessmen, while he rolled the table from its corner.

"Will I disturb you if I stay?" she asked.

"Not unless it interferes with Mr. Saltonstall's attention," said Chilian, then bit his lip.

"Oh, I do not think it will;" smilingly.