The absence of any adults in the house suddenly struck the latter, and
she asked, "Where is then the mother, Mees Sara?"
"In heaven," said the girl softly. "She died when I was little; and poor
baby Ned's followed her a few weeks ago, since father went for the long
fish."
"Ah, how sad! how sad! And have he not hear of this trouble?" "I do not
know; not unless he got the word I sent by Captain Smalley. But, you
see, his smack may not have sighted the Nautilus at all. It seems as if
father would have tried hard to come, if he had heard," she added, her
eyes growing misty; "we need him so!"
"Poor child, poor little one!" murmured the lady in her own language,
then in English, "But what is it you speak,--the 'long fish'? Do not all
your ships return each Saturday?"
"No; not now. That's the way they do at many of the fishing-villages, I
have heard, but we are a long way from the Banks, and there's Mare's
Head, which every vessel must round to make our harbor, so dangerous a
point that our fleets used scarcely ever to get by all in safety; for
when a man is hurrying home to his own fireside on a stormy Saturday
night, he is not as careful as he should be. So now our boats stay out
through the season, and when they have a big haul put into Gloucester or
Annisquam to sell their fish, only bringing home such as they cannot
find a market for.
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