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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
16
“She
has
gone,”
said
the
captain,--“very
easy
at
the
last,
I
was
informed;
she
slipped
away
as
if
she
were
glad
of
the
opportunity.”
I
thought
of
the
Countess
of
Carberry,
and
felt
that
history
repeated
itself.
“She
was
one
of
the
old
stock,”
continued
Captain
Littlepage,
with
touching
sincerity.
“She
was
very
much
looked
up
to
in
this
town,
and
will
be
missed.”
I
wondered,
as
I
looked
at
him,
if
he
had
sprung
from
a
line
of
ministers;
he
had
the
refinement
of
look
and
air
of
command
which
are
the
heritage
of
the
old
ecclesiastical
families
of
New
England.
But
as
Darwin
says
in
his
autobiography,
“there
is
no
such
king
as
a
sea-captain;
he
is
greater
even
than
a
king
or
a
schoolmaster!”
Captain
Littlepage
moved
his
chair
out
of
the
wake
of
the
sunshine,
and
still
sat
looking
at
me.
I
began
to
be
very
eager
to
know
upon
what
errand
he
had
come.
“It
may
be
found
out
some
o'
these
days,”
he
said
earnestly.
“We
may
know
it
all,
the
next
step;
where
Mrs.
Begg
is
now,
for
instance.
Certainty,
not
conjecture,
is
what
we
all
desire.”
“I
suppose
we
shall
know
it
all
some
day,”
said
I.
“We
shall
know
it
while
yet
below,”
insisted
the
captain,
with
a
flush
of
impatience
on
his
thin
cheeks.
“We
have
not
looked
for
truth
in
the
right
direction.
I
know
what
I
speak
of;
those
who
have
laughed
at
me
little
know
how
much
reason
my
ideas
are
based
upon.”
He
waved
his
hand
toward
the
village
below.
“In
that
handful
of
houses
they
fancy
that
they
comprehend
the
universe.”
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