Night Birds On Nantucket Read Online Free

could the voice be? No one she had seen or heard of yet, that was certain. It had sounded like a child – but nobody had mentioned a child.
    This time, keeping well clear of the try-works and the fierce Mr Slighcarp, she made her way to the quarter-deck. There she found Captain Casket, silent, withdrawn, and stern-looking. He had his back to her and was studying the compass in the binnacle, so she tiptoed to the rail and stood watching two gulls on an ice-floe as they quarrelled over a scrap of blubber.
    Presently she felt a chilly sensation in her shoulder-blades and turned to find that Captain Casket had his strange sad eyes fixed on her.
    He cleared his throat once or twice, as if speaking were not a very common activity with him, and said:
    â€˜What is thy name, child?’
    â€˜D-Dido, sir. Dido Twite.’
    â€˜A heathen name,’ the captain murmured. ‘No matter. There may be godliness within.’ He scrutinized her with an intent, close regard, as if measuring her for some purpose he had in mind. Dido looked back wonderingly.
    At last he said:
    â€˜Thee has a firm chin, my child, and a philanthropic brow.’
    â€˜Has – have I?’ Dido said, surprised. ‘Coo, I never knew. Maybe I got some o’ the gurry on it when I fell down.’ She rubbed her forehead with her sleeve.
    â€˜I need thy help,’ Captain Casket went on. ‘Thee looks like a strong, brave character.’
    Am I? Dido wondered. She realized with surprise that she did feel strong, far stronger than she had been before she fell into her ten-month sleep.
    â€˜Does thee think thee can be kind but firm with somebody not so blessed in courage and strength?’
    Suddenly Dido began to guess what he was leading up to. Forgetting her slight awe of him she blurted out, ‘Well, mister, if it’s anything to do with that poor little thing that you got locked up downstairs I can tell you straight I think it’s a wicked shame. How would
you
like to be locked up?’
    Captain Casket looked at her sadly. ‘Child, thee doesn’t understand,’ he said. ‘I am not her jailer. She did it herself. She bolted herself in when her Mamma died. No words of mine avail to draw her forth.’
    â€˜Ohhhh!’ Dido breathed, round-eyed. ‘Mercygracious, why ever’d she do that? Is she your little girl, then?’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said, sighing.
    â€˜What’s her name? How old is she?’ Dido was all curiosity. What a queer thing, to shut oneself in a cabin!
    â€˜She’s nine,’ he said heavily. ‘Her name is Dutiful Penitence Casket.’
    â€˜Croopus,’ Dido murmured.
    â€˜Her Mamma, my dear wife, though endowed with every Christian virtue, had one foolish failing,’ he went on, half to himself. ‘This was her incurable fear of the sea. I thought that if I took her with me on a voyage it would allay her fear and improve her delicate health. Fool! Fool that I was.’ He paused and added in a lower tone, ‘But the ways of Providence are strange to us.’
    â€˜And so the poor lady took and died?’ Dido said compassionately as he seemed to have come to a stop.
    â€˜Yes, my child. And Penitence, who had imbibed her mother’s fears, believed the sea had caused her death.’
    â€˜So she shut herself up.’
    â€˜From that day to this,’ he agreed, sighing. ‘I believe she thinks the sea will kill her too, if she ventures out.’
    â€˜Coo,’ said Dido. ‘What a jobberknoll. But what does she do for prog – for vittles?’
    â€˜The little cabin where she slept next to my wife is also the store where my dear Sarah kept preserves and spices and medicines. I believe Penitence has been living on beach-plum jelly and sassafras all this time.’
    â€˜What a do, eh? Don’t she never
wash
?’ said Dido with the liveliest interest.
    â€˜There is a little hatch through which I can