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“‘No, I don’t.’

“‘And you don’t want the other one, nuther?’

“‘No, I don’t,’ replied Captain Abner, doggedly. ‘I don’t want nuther of ’em. And I say, Sam, the sun’s gettin’ down and it’s about time for us to be settin’ sail.’

“‘There’s a good stretch of sky under that sun yet,’ said Sam, ‘and jes you wait a bit, cap’n.’

“Sam Twitty walked slowly along the sandy beach; he looked as a sheep-dog might look who was wondering within himself whether or not he had brought back from the fields as many sheep as he had taken out. He stopped, and looked about at the party. Captain Abner was walking toward the boat; the minister and the Denby girl were standing together, comparing shells; the toll-gate woman was strolling by herself a little higher up the beach, still in a reflective mood. Sam gazed from his companions to the sky, the water, the beautiful glistening sands.

“‘It’s a shame to lose all this,’ he said to himself; ‘it’s a burnin’ shame to sink it all.’ Then suddenly, as if his master had whistled, he sped to the side of Mrs. Sickles. Backward and forward these two walked, Sam talking earnestly and the toll-gate woman listening with great interest. Captain Abner now and then gave them an impatient glance, but the other couple did not regard them at all.

“‘But, Mr. Twitty,’ said Mrs. Sickles, ‘this is so unexpected. I had an idea of the kind about Cap’n Abner, for I could not help it, but you–really! I’ve heard of you often, Mr. Twitty, but I never saw you until to-day.’

“‘Now, Mrs. Sickles,’ said Sam, ‘you couldn’t have had a better day to see me in, if you’d waited a year; and a-speakin’ quick and sharp as I’ve got to do, for the sun’s keepin’ on goin’ down, there couldn’t be a better day to marry me in.’

“‘Oh, Mr. Twitty!’ cried Mrs. Sickles, with flushed face.

“‘There couldn’t be a better time or a better place,’ said Sam, ‘and a minister right here, and two witnesses.’

“‘But, Mr. Twitty,’ said she, ‘I really thought that Cap’n Budlong–and from what he told me about his house and his things–‘

“‘Cap’n Abner is one of the finest men in this world,’ interrupted Sam, ‘and he’s got a fust-class house, and I ain’t got none, and he’s got all sorts of things from all parts of the world that he’s put in it. But I can get a house and things to put in it, and I can do without gilded idols and king conch-shells, and, what’s still more to the p’int, Mrs. Sickles, I wants you, and he don’t.’

“‘There’s something in that,’ said the toll-gate woman, and then she added: ‘but as to marryin’ you here and now, Mr. Twitty, it’s not to be thought of.’

“Sam walked slowly away; one might have thought his head drooped under a rebuke. He approached the young minister and the girl of the buggy.

“‘Look a’ here,’ said he to the former; ‘you don’t mean to say, sir, that you’d back out of marryin’ a couple right here and now, that was growed up and of full age, and nothin’ to hinder.’

“‘Marry!’ cried Miss Denby. ‘A wedding right here on this beautiful island! Oh, that would be glorious! Who wants to be married?’

“‘I do,’ said Sam.

“They both laughed. ‘But the other person?’ asked Mr. Rippledean. ‘There must be a bride if you want a wedding.’

“‘Oh, the bride’ll be Mrs. Sickles,’ said Sam. ‘But the trouble is she ain’t altogether willin’.’

“‘I told you,’ said the merry Miss Denby–‘you know I told you that you are the funniest people I ever met, and you truly are. People generally come to an agreement between themselves before they speak to the clergyman.’

“‘Mr. Twitty,’ said the clergyman, ‘I strongly advise you to give up your present notions of immediate matrimony, and wait at least until all parties agree upon time and place and upon the other circumstances of this union for which you seem so impatient.’