Suddenly in the middle of the hall another woman rose. Her motion was accompanied by the rustle of silk, and instantly there was silence, for Elsa Mallaby commanded considerable respect.

Code saw her with surprise as he turned. She noted his puzzled expression and flashed him a dazzling smile that was not lost, even in that thrilled and excited crowd. He answered it.

"I consider that Captain Schofield has solved the problem," she said in a clear, level tone. "There is no question but that the men of Grande Mignon should fit out their ships and fish on the Banks. There is also no question but that the objection Mrs. Green raised makes such a thing impossible. Now, I want to tell you something.

"I belong in Freekirk Head, and you have all known me since I was little. Hard-luck Jim Mallaby belonged in Freekirk Head and made his money out of the island. Jim's money is mine now, and you can rest a.s.sured that while the men are away fishing no woman or child on Grande Mignon shall go hungry while I am alive to hear of it.

"Some people hate me because I live in a big house and have everything. It is only natural and I expect it, but ever since Jim left me I have wondered how I could do the most good with his money here. I would like to _give_ it; but if you won't have that, you can borrow it on a long-time loan without interest or security. Now I will go out and you can talk it over freely."

With a companion she walked up the aisle and to the door, but before she reached it Code Schofield was standing on a chair, his hat in his hand.

"Three cheers for Mrs. Mallaby!" he yelled, and the very building shook with the tumultuous response.

It was five minutes before the squire, purple with shouting for order, could be heard above the noise. Then, with hand upraised, he shouted:

"All in favor of Schofield's plan say ay!"

And the "ay" was the greatest vocal demonstration ever given in Freekirk Head.

CHAPTER VII

A STRANGER

The ensuing week was one such as the village had never beheld. A visitor to the island might have thought that war had been declared and that a privateering expedition was being fitted out.

On the railroad near Flag Point there was always some vessel being sc.r.a.ped or painted. Supplies brought over from St. John's by the steamer _Grande Mignon_ were stowed in lazarets and below. Rigging was overhauled, canvas patched or renewed, and bright, tawny ropes subst.i.tuted for the old ones in sheet and tackle.

Every low tide was a signal for great activity among the vessels made fast alongside the wharfs, for the rise of the water was nearly twenty feet, and when it receded the ships stood upright on their keels and exposed their bottoms to sc.r.a.per, calking mallet, and paint-brush.

In every house where father or son was expecting soon to sail the women were busy with clothing and general outfit. There was a run on the store carrying oilskins, sea-boots, oil-lamps, stoves, and general paraphernalia.

All these things were gotten on credit, for there is no such thing as a vessel returning empty-handed from the Banks, and Bill Boughton stood sponsor for most of them.

The owners of vessels divided their time between provisioning and overhauling their ships and the securing of crews. One rainy afternoon, when work had been generally suspended, a number of the men gathered inside Bill Boughton's store to wait for a let-up in the downpour, and the subject of crews was broached.

"How you comin' with your crew, Bige?" asked a tall, lanky man of Captain Tanner.

"First rate. Got a dozen men now an' that's about all the _Rosan_ can take care of. At that somebody'll have to sleep on a locker, I cal'late."

"You're doin' well, Bige. I hear Jed Martin can't round up more'n eight, an' he's been as fur south as Great Harbor."

"D'ye wonder?" put in a third. "Jed ain't never set up grub that a shark would eat. I sailed with him once five year ago, an' that was enough fer me."

"Twelve men ain't much," put in Tanner. "Them Gloucester men sail with sixteen or eighteen right along, and I've heard o' one feller put out of T-Wharf, Boston, carryin' twenty-eight dories. Of course, them fellers lays to fill up quick and make short trips fer the fresh market. Ain't many of them briners."

"Don't believe there's anybody'll carry sixteen men out of here, is they?" came a voice from over in the corner.

"Sure!" The rumble and bellow of the reply denoted Pete Ellinwood where he sat on a cracker-box, his six and a half feet of length sprawled halfway from one counter to the other. "There's Nat Burns's _Hettie B._ She'll carry sixteen, and so will Code Schofield's _Laughing La.s.s_--mebbe more."

"Huh! Yes, if he can git 'em," sneered a voice.

"Git 'em! O' course he'll git 'em. Why not?" demanded Ellinwood, turning upon the other belligerently.

"Wal," replied the other, "they do say there's men in this village, and farther south, too, that wouldn't sail with Code, not fer a thousand dollars and all f'und."

"Them that says it are fools," declared Ellinwood.

"An' liars!" cut in Bijonah Tanner hotly. "Why won't they sail with the lad? He can handle a schooner as well as you, Burt, and better."

"Yas," said the other contemptuously; "n.o.body's ever forgot the way he handled the old _May Schofield_. Better not play with fire, Bige, or you'll get your hands burned."

Pete Ellinwood got upon his feet deliberately. He was the biggest and most powerful man in the village, despite his forty-five years, and his "ableness" in a discussion--physical or otherwise--was universally respected.

"Look here you, Burt, an' all the rest of you fellers. I've got something to say. Fer consid'able time now I've heard dirty talk about Code and the _May Schofield_--dirty talk an' nothin' more. Now, if any of you can prove that Code did anything but try and save the old schooner, let's hear you do it. If not, shut up! I don't want to hear no more of that talk."

There was silence for a while as all hands sought to escape the gray, accusing eye that wandered slowly around the circle. Then from back in the shadow somewhere a voice said sneeringly:

"What ax you got to grind, Pete?"

A laugh went round, for it was common talk that, since the death of Jasper Schofield, Pete had expressed his admiration for Ma Schofield in more than one way.

"I got this ax to grind, Andrew," replied Ellinwood calmly, "that I'm signed on as mate in the _Charming La.s.s_, an' I believe the boy is as straight and as good a sailor as anybody on the island." This was news to the crowd, and the men digested it a minute in silence.

"How many men ye got sailin' with ye?" asked one who had not spoken before.

"Five outside the skipper an' me," was the reply, "an' I cal'late we'll fill her up in a day or so. Seven men can sail her like a witch, but they won't fill her hold very quick. She'll take fifteen hundred quintal easy, or I judge her wrong."

A prolonged whistle from outside interrupted the discussion, and one man going to the door announced that it had stopped raining. All hands got up and prepared to go back to work. Only Bijonah Tanner remained to buy some groceries from Boughton.

"Steamer's early to-day," said the storekeeper, glancing at his watch.

"She's bringin' me a lot of salt from St. John's, and I guess I can get it into the shed to-night."

Having satisfied Tanner, he went out of the store the back way and left the captain alone filling his pipe. A short blast of the whistle told him that the steamer was tied up, and idly he lingered to see who had come to the island.

The pa.s.sengers, to reach the King's Road, were obliged to go past the corner of the general store, and Bijonah stood on the low, wooden veranda, watching them.

Some two dozen had gone when his eye was attracted by a pale, thin youth in a light-gray suit and Panama hat. He thought nothing of him at first except to remark his clothes, but as he came within short vision Tanner gave a grunt of astonishment and bit through the reed stem of his corn-cob pipe.

He recognized the youth as the one he had seen in St. John's and had referred to as the secretary to the president of the Marine Insurance Company.

Instantly the old man's mind flashed back to what he had heard only a week before, which he had told Code. He stood looking after the stranger as though spell-bound, his slow mind groping vainly for some explanation of his presence in Freekirk Head.

He felt instinctively that it must be in connection with the case of Code Schofield and the _May_, and his feeling was corroborated a moment later when, from behind the trunk of a big pine-tree, Nat Burns stepped forward and greeted the other. They had apparently met before, for they shook hands cordially and continued westward along the King's Road.

A few steps brought them opposite the gate to the Schofield cottage, and Bijonah, following their motions like a hawk, saw Nat jerk his thumb in the direction of the house as they walked past.