The friendly squeeze that Doctor Hudson was giving Ichabod's arm as they advanced toward the group of women heartened the old man mightily. A few days since, he would have felt that he was being led as a martyr to be burned at the stake. But now, in the twinkling of an eye, everything was changed. It is true that he felt a keen embarrassment over this introduction to feminine society after his isolation from it for twenty years. Yet his natural courage dominated this embarrassment, so that he faced the trial bravely enough.
The Doctor explained to him that a formal introduction to the ladies would be necessary.
"That is," Hudson continued, "to all except one. You are already acquainted with the one just now coming out of the shack door with your vinegar bottle in her hand. It's Miss Sarah Porter that I'm referring to. She has told me that you have talked with her on more than one occasion about your domestic troubles and your lonely life. She has told me, too, that she tried her best to give you advice that would be good for you."
Ichabod replied defensively.
"Wall, I cal'late I've been a-tryin' to take her advice!"
It was even as Doctor Hudson had said. In spite of the sharp eyes and wagging tongues of the townsfolk, few had known that the old fisherman occasionally visited Miss Porter in the hostelry managed by her for many years, and that there he had listened gratefully to her words of kindly admonition. As a matter of fact, long before the Lee woman entered into the fisherman's life, he had felt very kindly toward Miss Porter, and his attentions had been well received by her. It is very possible that he might have offered himself to her years ago, had it not been for a conscientious scruple as to his jilted self being unworthy. So, he saw her only at rare intervals, and then only when he brought fish to sell, thus making business his excuse. There had been to him a certain comfort in the fact that this vivacious woman of sixty had never married. He even dared to wonder sometimes with a thrill of vanity if her feeling toward him could have been the cause of her spinsterhood. And this was always followed by an emotion of disgust with himself that he should ever have found the company of Roxana more to his liking than that of the pleasant and wholesome Sarah.
When the Captain saw Miss Porter with the vinegar bottle in her hand, he knew that the visitors were preparing an oyster roast, which, of course, accounted for the fire of twigs and seaweed. Now, the other women stood in a row, while Sarah, her face wreathed in smiles, came forward to greet her old lover. This done, she formally presented Ichabod to the other guests. The fisherman's increased embarrassment expressed itself in a sheepish grin, when it suddenly dawned on him that every one of the women there before him was unmarried. Dr. Hudson remarked afterward that Ichabod looked to him as if he were convinced that each and every one was "after him!"
Nevertheless, once the introductions were over, the Captain found himself at ease in a manner quite surprising. Every one of the visitors seemed to enter into the spirit of the affair with a whole-hearted geniality that was infectious, and under this benignant influence the host was filled with an unaccustomed happiness. He at once began to assist in the roasting of the oysters, which the women had gathered from the rocks. He gave them carte blanche to help themselves to plates and forks and such other things as were needful from the shack.
None was so rude as to refer to Ichabod's reformation. But Sarah Porter, whenever she caught his eye, gave him a look that spoke as plainly as words:
"Ichabod Jones, at last I have found you a man, and I am proud of you!"
No doubt she congratulated herself, with justice, on the fact that her talks with him had had much to do with this change. She was the only one in the party of mature age; the others were comparatively young and sprightly maidens. This selection of guests was due to the fine Italian hand of the Doctor. Evidently, he was hard at work on a plan to make Ichabod Jones a provider, rather than trying to find him a place as housekeeper, in accordance with the fisherman's original request.
The hours passed delightfully for all—especially for the host whose pleasure was edged by the novelty of the situation in which he found himself. It was not until the moon showed in the east that the visitors made ready for departure. Just before the party embarked, the boldest of the maidens kissed the old man's weather-beaten cheek. There was a burst of laughter from the onlookers. Ichabod could feel himself blushing furiously, but that blush was invisible under the deep tan. Then the others thus saluted him, one by one—all save Sarah Porter.
She bestowed herself in the launch while the kissing was going on, and Ichabod, regarding her furtively with anxious eyes, read in her expression signs of strong disapproval, which disconcerted him hugely, and robbed him in great measure of his just due of enjoyment under the osculatory attack.
Then, it was all over! The old man stood waving his hat mechanically as the launch glided away. Ichabod watched with unseeing eyes. He was in a daze, thinking more in sorrow than in anger of "how fer he had let them minxes go with him—an' Sary a-lookin' on, too!" He shook his head despondently, as he reflected that the closing incident would have been more agreeable if "Sary hadn't been a-lookin' on."
Once more, Ichabod Jones burned midnight oil. In the early evening he brought his easy chair out in front, where he could see the glistening waters and watch the moon climb high. He smoked pipeful after pipeful of his strong tobacco. Again he made rings, and thought, and wondered. It was after ten before he arose and went into the shack, lighted his oil lamp, laid out his paper and pencil, and proceeded to add more to the record that he had started. No doubt, after his long reverie in the moonlight, he had come to the conclusion that the fact of his being kissed by ten young women and having one more making eyes at him in one............