"This is so extr'or'nary, sir," added our old hostess, more interested
than I could have supposed possible for a stranger to become in Marble's
rough bitterness, "that I should like to hear how such a thing could be."

"I am quite ready to tell you all about it, mother; but, as one good turn
deserves another, I shall ask you first to answer me a few questions about
the ownership of this house, and cove, and orchard. When you have told
your story, I am ready to tell mine."

"I see how it is," said the old woman, in alarm. "You are sent here by Mr.
Van Tassel, to inquire about the money due on the mortgage, and to learn
whether it is likely to be paid or not."

"We are not sent here at all, my good old lady," I now thought it time to
interpose, for the poor woman was very obviously much alarmed, and in a
distress that even her aged and wrinkled countenance could not entirely
conceal. "We are just what you see--people belonging to that sloop, who
have come ashore to stretch their legs, and have never heard of any Mr.
Van Tassel, or any money, or any mortgage."

"Thank Heaven for that!" exclaimed the old woman, seeming to relieve her
mind, as well as body, by a heavy sigh. "'Squire Van Tassel is a hard man;
and a widow woman, with no relative at hand but a grand-darter that is
just sixteen, is scarce able to meet him. My poor old husband always
maintained that the money had been paid; but, now he is dead and gone,
'Squire Van Tassel brings forth the bond and mortgage, and says, 'If you
can prove that these are paid, I'm willing to give them up.'"

"This is so strange an occurrence, my dear old lady," I observed, "that