There
were three dormer windows in the front of the garret-roof, and one of
these had been a favorite abiding-place in her youth. She had played
with her prim Dutch dolls there in her childhood, and she could
remember spending hour after hour watching for her father's ship when
the family had begun to expect him home at the end of a long voyage.
She remembered with a smile how grieved she had been because once he
came into port late in the night and surprised them all early in the
morning, but he had made amends by taking her back with him when he
hurried on board again after a hasty greeting. Miss Prince lived that
morning over again as she stood there, old and gray and alone in the
world. She could see again the great weather-beaten and tar-darkened
ship, and even the wizened monkey which belonged to one of the
sailors. She lingered at her father's side admiringly, and felt the
tears come into her eyes once more when he gave her a taste of the
fiery contents of his tumbler. They were all in his cabin; old Captain
Dunn and Captain Denny and Captain Peterbeck were sitting round the
little table, also provided with tumblers, as they listened eagerly to
the story of the voyage. The sailors came now and then for orders;
Nancy thought her handsome father, with his bronzed cheeks and white
forehead and curly hair, was every inch a king. He was her hero, and
nothing could please her so much to the end of her days as to have
somebody announce, whether from actual knowledge or hearsay, that
Captain Jack Prince was the best shipmaster that ever sailed out of
Dunport.
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