my
ashes over the rail of the piazza. So they started down the
straight path to Jack's cottage, and I waited a minute with Mrs.
Brewster, looking after them, before taking my hat to go. They
walked side by side, a little shyly at first, and then I saw Jack
put his arm round her waist. As I looked he was on her left, and
I saw the outline of the two figures very distinctly against the
moonlight on the path; and the shadow on Mamie's right was broad
and black as ink, and it moved along, lengthening and shortening
with the unevenness of the ground beside the path.

I thanked Mrs. Brewster, and bade her good-night; and though she
was a hard New England woman her voice trembled a little as she
answered, but being a sensible person she went in and shut the
door behind her as I stepped out on the path. I looked after the
couple in the distance a last time, meaning to go down to the
road, so as not to overtake them; but when I had made a few steps
I stopped and looked again, for I knew I had seen something
queer, though I had only realised it afterwards. I looked again,
and it was plain enough now; and I stood stock-still, staring at
what I saw. Mamie was walking between two men. The second man was
just the same height as Jack, both being about a half a head
taller than she; Jack on her left in his black tail-coat and
round hat, and the other man on her right--well, he was a
sailor-man in wet oilskins. I could see the moonlight shining on
the water that ran down him, and on the little puddle that had
settled where the flap of his sou'wester was turned up behind:
and one of his wet, shiny arms was round Mamie's waist, just
above Jack's. I was fast to the spot where I stood, and for a
minute I thought I was crazy. We'd had nothing but some cider for
dinner, and tea in the evening, otherwise I'd have thought
something had got into my head, though I was never drunk in my
life. It was more like a bad dream after that.

I was glad Mrs. Brewster had gone in. As for me, I couldn't help
following the three, in a sort of wonder to see what would
happen, to see whether the sailor-man in his wet togs would just
melt away into the moonshine. But he didn't.

[Illustration: ONE OF HIS WET, SHINY ARMS WAS ROUND MAMIE'S WAIST.]

I moved slowly, and I remembered afterwards that I walked on the
grass, instead of on the path, as if I were afraid they might
hear me coming. I suppose it all happened in less than five
minutes after that, but