reentered the front gate and went up to the door of the house,
where the widow and Dorcas were still standing.

"Madam," said he, "I just came back to ask what became of
your brother-in-law through his wife's not bein' able to put no
light in the window?"

"The storm drove him ashore on our side of the bay," said
she, "and the next mornin' he came up to our house, and I told
him all that had happened to me. And when he took our boat and
went home and told that story to his wife, she just packed up and
went out West, and got divorced from him. And it served him
right, too."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Captain Jenkinson, and going out
of the gate, he clambered up over the wheel, and the wagon
cleared for Cuppertown.

When the elderly mariners were gone, the Widow Ducket, still
standing in the door, turned to Dorcas.

"Think of it!" she said. "To tell all that to me, in my own
house! And after I had opened my one jar of brandied peaches,
that I'd been keepin' for special company!"

"In your own house!" ejaculated Dorcas. "And not one of them
brandied peaches left!"

The widow jingled the four quarters in her hand before she
slipped them into her pocket.