Captain Adam (46 page)

The tale was quickly told. The town had never been shocked. What Captain Long did when he was down in the sugar islands was Captain Long's business, the way Newport figured it. But the invasion of Stiff Necks from Boston, the periwigs, the pomposity, were resented. And when it was learned that a warrant had actually been made out—which would mean a trial, probably an expensive one, too—folks began to bubble and boil. It was clear that the whole crown case hung on the story told by Willis Beach, a man not much liked in the first place. So men went to Willis Beach. They got there just before the crown marshals, who had decided to put Beach in jail for safe keeping. They told the little man to move away.

"You mean," cried Adam, "that more than one man did this?"

"More than one! Must've been half the town did it! The Dudley men put him in jail anyway, but he broke out. He headed west, and I don't suppose he hauled up till he hit Hartford, if then. That was three days ago and I shouldn't be surprised if he was running yet."

"All this talking makes me thirsty," somebody said.

At Blake's the rum flowed like water, with everybody waving his jack and shouting a welcome. Nor was Adam expected to pay for these drinks: they wouldn't even let him pay for his own.

The disappearance of Beach blew the case sky-high, of course. The warrant might still exist but it would never be served. The charter was

safe. The Dudley forces had been routed. Even Zeph Evans, a stubborn man, had decamped—two days ago, taking his wife and all his goods with him, he had boarded a coaster for New York.

Somehow Obadiah Selden got to Adam and backed him into a corner.

"I'm proud of you, my boy! Proud of you! We all are!"

Adam swallowed.

"I, uh, I sent a letter to Miss Deborah—"

"I know."

"Maybe it's too bad I did that. She'd not be likely to want somebody that's been in a—well, a sort of disgrace like this."

Obadiah laid a hand on his arm. Close though they were, they had to shout at one another in that hubbub.

"Adam, she told me three days ago, when things were at their worst, she told me she wanted you no matter what happened."

"She did? She said that?"

"She did. I warned her it looked mighty black—as it did, right then— and I said she wouldn't want to marry a man who might be hanged right afterward. And you know what she said to that, Adam?"

"What?"

"She said, I'd rather be Adam Long's widow than anybody else's wife.'"

Somebody turned Obadiah around. A few of the men were asking him if he couldn't persuade Captain Long to stand up on the Adventurers' Table and make a speech.

"I'll try," he said, and turned back.

But Adam wasn't there any longer. Adam was outside, running up the hill to the Selden house.

For supper there was to be turkey and brook trout and injun-and-molasses and a pie made out of rhubarb. Obadiah Selden and his favorite skipper had flip beforehand.

"'Bout the dowry." Obadiah harrumphed seriously, dipped his nose into his mug, gazed at the mug for some time, harrumphed again. "Surprised you didn't bring that up."

"I guess I'm surprised myself. Never even thought of it."

"Not like you. Captain."

"No, it ain't."

"Well," and he fetched out some papers, "I won't take advantage of ye. On the other hand, we've no need to haggle. You reckon these would be fair?"

He handed Adam the remaining shares of the schooner Goodwill to Men, and each was made out in Adam's name.

Adam gulped his flip, he was so touched, and he all but choked on it. 284

Through an open door he saw Deborah fussing in the kitchen. He started to get up.

"See here, can't I help you?"

Obadiah Selden waved him back.

"Sit down," Obadiah said. "You're a married man now."