The deacon fairly permitted the knife, with which he was spreading some
butter, to fall upon his plate. "Daggett" and the "Vineyard" sounded
ominously. Could it be that Dr. Sage had managed to get a message so far,
in so short a time; and had this amphibious inhabitant of the neighbouring
island come already to rob him of his treasure? The perceptions of the
deacon, at first, were far from clear; and he even imagined that all he
had expended on the Sea Lion was thrown away, and that he might be even
called on to give some sort of an account, in a court of chancery, of the
information obtained from the deceased. A little reflection, however,
sufficed to get the better of this weakness, and he made a civil
inclination of his head, as much as to tell the stranger, notwithstanding
his name and place of residence, that he was welcome. Of course no one but
the deacon himself knew of the thoughts that troubled him, and after a
very brief delay, the guest proceeded with his explanations of the object
of his visit.

"The Daggetts are pretty numerous on the Vineyard," continued the
stranger, "and when you name one of them it is not always easy to tell
just what family he belongs to. One of our coasters came into the Hull
(Holmes' Hole was meant) a few weeks since, and reported that she spoke an
inward-bound brig, off New Haven, from which she heard that the people of
that craft had put ashore, at Oyster Pond, a seafaring man, who belonged
to the Vineyard, and who was bound home, arter an absence of fifty years,
and whose name was Thomas Daggett. The word passed through the island, and
a great stir it made among all us Daggetts. There's plenty of our Vineyard
people wandering about the 'arth, and sometimes one drops in upon the
island, just to die. As most of them that come back bring something with
them, it's gen'rally thought a good sign to hear of their arrival. After
casting about, and talking with all the old folks, it has been concluded