"
"SHE says that? Julia, my dead wife, tells me to do that?"
"Yes. Yes--yes--yes. She say you sell Raish four hundred Develop stock
and you be so gladee. She be gladee, too. She--"
"STOP!"
The light keeper's shout rang through the room. "Stop!" he shouted
again. "You--you LIAR!"
The word shot from beneath his teeth and, judging by the effect, might
have hit almost every individual in the room. There was absolute
silence for just the briefest instant; then a chorus of faint screams,
exclamations, startled and indignant protests. Above them all Primmie's
call upon her Lord of Isrul sounded plainly. Captain Jethro paid no
heed.
"You liar!" he roared again. "Out of my house, you swindler! You damned
cheat!"
This blast, delivered with the full force of the old skipper's
quarter-deck voice, had the effect of completely upsetting the already
tense nerves of the majority in the circle. Two or three of the women
began to cry. Chairs were overturned. There was a babel of cries and
confusion. The light keeper stilled it.
"Be still, all hands!" he shouted. "Turn up them lamps! Turn 'em up!"
Mr. Cabot, although himself somewhat startled and disturbed by the
unexpected turn of events, was at least as cool as any one. He reached
over the prostrate heap at his feet--it was Ophelia Beebe hysterically
repeating: "He's gone crazy! He's gone loony! OH, my soul! OH, my land!
WHAT'LL I do?" and the like--and turned up one of the lamps.
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