When the indignant captain, having pursued and chastised the cow until the stick was but a splintered remnant, reached the haven behind the iron fence, he found her soothing the frightened Bos'n who was sobbing and hysterical.
Emily saw her "Uncle Cyrus" coming and rushed into his arms.

He picked her up and, holding her with a grip which testified to the nerve strain he had been under, stepped forward to meet the stranger, whose coming had been so opportune.
And she WAS a stranger.

The captain knew most of Bayport's inhabitants by this time, or thought he did, but he did not know her.

She was a small woman, quietly dressed, and her hair, under a neat black and white hat, was brown.

The hat was now a trifle to one side and the hair was the least bit disarranged, an effect not at all unbecoming.