the well-known dwelling of the Pratts.

"This poor man is in the last stages of a decline," said the physician,
coolly, "and medicine can do him no good. He _may_ live a month; though it
would not surprise me to hear of his death in an hour."

"Do you think his time so short!" exclaimed the deacon. "I was in hopes he
might last until the Sea Lion goes out, and that a voyage might help to
set him up."

"Nothing will ever set him up again, deacon, you may depend, on that. No
sea-voyage will do him any good; and it is better that he should remain on
shore, on account of the greater comforts he will get. Does he belong on
Oyster Pond?"

"He comes from somewhere east," answered the deacon, careful not to let
the doctor know the place whence the stranger had come, though to little
purpose, as will presently be seen. "He has neither friend nor
acquaintance, here; though I should think his effects sufficient to meet
all charges."

"Should they not be, he is welcome to my visit," answered the doctor,
promptly; for he well understood the deacon's motive in making the remark.
"I have enjoyed a pleasant sail across the bays with young Gar'ner, who
has promised to take me back again. I like boating, and am always better
for one of these sailing excursions. Could I carry my patients along, half
of them would be benefited by the pure air and the exercise."

"It's a grateful thing to meet with one of your temperament, doctor--but
Daggett--"