Stepping out upon the porch, Burroughs pointed to the little cottage from whose door the fish-horn had been so vigorously blown upon the evening when Mr. Gillies was first introduced to the village of Carrick.
"That's the house, and I guess you'll find her to home. Don't be scared if she's kind of rough at first, Cap'n. Her bark's worse'n her bite."
To this friendly advice, Mr. Gillies deigned no answer whatever, but stepping off the porch, walked briskly in the direction indicated.
The door of the cottage stood open, and the visitor paused a moment before it, in some doubt how best to make his presence known, when a sudden uproar arose within, and a boy, dressed in a fisherman's coarse clothes and heavy boots, fled out of the door and down the street, pursued by a tall wiry woman holding a large fish by the gills, which novel instrument of punishment she heartily applied about the boy's head and shoulders whenever she could reach him, shouting at the same time,
"I'll teach ye to fetch me a hahdock agin, ye young sculpin! Didn't I tell ye I wanted a cod, and what d'ye s'pose I care how many they took up to Fred Vaughn's. Think I'll be put off with a hahdock while other folks eats cod? Take that, and that, and that!"
And as little else than the head of the offending haddock now remained in the fair epicure's hand, she seized the lad by his shock of wiry hair, and bending his head back upon her arm, scrubbed his face with the remnant of fish, until the luckless fellow, screaming with mingled rage and terror, broke away and rushed down the street.
Mrs. Brume looked after him a moment, and then slowly turned toward home, wiping her hands upon her apron, and muttering to herself invectives, mingled with self-gratulation.
Mr. Gillies stood upon the door-step with a face of unmoved gravity.
"Does Mrs. Brume live here?" inquired he, as the virago approached.
"Yes, I'm Miss Brume," replied she, in an uncompromising manner.
"I should like to speak to you, then, for a few moments.
"Well, you can come in." And Mrs. Brume led the way into a vigorously tidy kitchen, and after setting a wooden chair for her guest, retired to a back room to remove the traces of her late encounter. While she was gone, Mr. Gillies cast an observant glance about the room. Everything was as clean, as orderly, and as uninviting, as hands could make it. The white floor was scoured and sanded, the stove blackened and polished, the windows as nearly transparent, as the green and wavy glass could be made. Even the cat blinking in the sunny corner had a wan and subdued expression, as if her natural depravity, and with it her vitality had been nearly cleansed away.
Mrs. Brume returned, her face and hands red with ablution and excitement, her hair, also red, smoothed, and a clean white apron tied tightly about her waist. Seating herself in a chair opposite her guest, she opened the conversation by saying,
"Like enough you thought strange to see me so mad with that young one, but he hadn't no business to bring me a hahdock when I spoke for a cod, and I ain't one of them kind as puts up with everything and never says a word. I'm apt to speak my mind, specially if I'm a little riled, and I'd as lief one man would hear me as another."
To this ingenuous confession Mr. Gillies responded by a slight bow, and then said,
