le woman replied, "The shark was
doubly cruel--who could--who could take out of the world so--so fine
a young man!"

"Ah! I wish he had!"

"Wish he had?"

"Yes,--his teeth wouldn't have been half so sharp as the teeth
biting away at my heart now!"

"Dear!"

"Have you ever had a lover?"

Here the little woman laughed outright. A lover! She could have
honestly answered, "Yes," if the handsome sailor had asked her if
she had had several score. _A_ lover, indeed!

"Ah! well, suppose you only had one, when you were a poor girl, and
he left you, what then?"

"Oh, I'd kill him first, and cry myself dead afterwards."

"Well, _my_ sweetheart has gone from me."

"What! what!--given _you_ up for _any one_?"

"Yes, and--and--I don't think he's my master,--unless it's in dollars."

"Ah!--And who saved you from the shark?"

"A young French officer,--bless him! He harpooned my sealy friend,
and found a friend for life,--though it a'n't much a poor
sailor-fellow can do for an officer. And, though we're at war with
the French, I'd be hanged sooner than fire at his ship."

Here Bertha, assisted by Jodoque, set the big jug down upon the
table with a bang. And here, too, something fell down in a
neighboring room,--precisely as though a person, journeying in a dark
chamber, had upset a heavy wooden chair. The noise sent Doome right
into the sailor's arms, and also sent Jodoque right behind Bertha,
who turned pale.

"There's some one in the room," said Jodoque.

"No, no!" said Bertha--"'tis poor aunt's room; no one goes there.
It's only the rats,--that's all,--only the rats."

For a stranger, the sailor showed a great deal of curiosity; for he
turned very red, and said, "Suppose you look and see."

"Oh, no, no! Never mind. 'Tis only rats. No one ever goes into that
room. My dear, dear guardian died in that room."

"Yes, Mistress," said the sailor, "but rats don't throw down chairs
and tables."

"No, surely no!" said Jodoque.

"And if the house were mine," said the sailor, suiting the action to
the word, "why, I'd go up to the door like this,--and I'd put my
hand on the latch, and click it should go,--and--"

Bertha ran up to the door too, laid her hand upon the sailor's arm,
and drew him away, as he quite willingly let her. Indeed, he
trembled and looked pleadingly at her, as she touched him; and he
murmured to himself, "Six years make a good deal of change."

"You, a guest, have no right to touch that door."