either
Sartoris, nor me, nor my dar'ter, could drive any sense into him. So we
gave it up: we intend to do our best to make you happy here."

"Lord bless you," said Sartoris, "it won't seem no time at all
before you are out an' about. Then the whole affair will be but an
episode,"--he dwelt on the word, which he had been treasuring in his
mind for hours past--"simply an episode, only made to be forgotten."
This speech was a great effort of oratory, and the Captain drew a long
breath, looking sideways at the Pilot, as though he had given a cue.

"Luck goes in streaks, lad," said Captain Summerhayes. "You struck a bad
one when you set sail with Sartoris here. I don't mean no offence to
you, Captain; but I do not, never did, and never shall, admire the way
you handled _The Mersey Witch_."

"Go on," remarked Sartoris; "rub it in. I can bear it."

"Having got into a bad streak, Jack, you must expect it to stick to you
for a time. I did think as how you'd lost it when you come home with all
that gold. But, you see, I was right at first; you're in it yet. There's
no cure but to bear it. An' that you will, lad, like the man you are."

"We've come to cheer you up, Jack," said Sartoris, "an' I hope we've
done it. But there's one thing that I believe is usual in these cases,
an' that's a sky-pilot. I have heard as how a sky-pilot's more
comfortin' to a man in gaol than anything else. What's your special
brand? What kind do you fancy? I'm ashamed to say we've talked so little
religion, Jack, that I don't know what religious crew you signed on with
when you was young, but if there's any special breed o' parson you
fancy, you've only got to give him a name, and if he lives in this town
or within a radius of ten miles, he shall come an' minister to you
reg'lar, or I'll know the reason why."

During this remarkable speech, Rose had quietly slipped out of the cell
and, with her empty basket on her arm, had turned her steps homeward.

On rounding a corner of a street in the centre of the town, she almost
ran into Rachel Varnhagen.

"Well, well, well, where have you been?" was the Jewess's greeting, as
she stopped to talk to Rose.

"I've been to the gaol."

"To the gaol! Goodness, what for?"

Rose did not reply.

"I do believe you've been to see that contemptible murderer."

"If you mean a friend of mine, who was also a friend of yours who did
you a great service, I beg you to stop."

"I mean that man Scarlett."

"And s