He had known her for years, ever since his old friend, Lucy's father, had died, and the tones of her voice, so different from her usual deferential air, filled him with apprehension.
"Ain't nobody sick, is there, Martha ?" "No, but there will be.

Are ye alone ?" "Yes." "Then shut that door behind ye and sit down.

I've got something to say." The grizzled, weather-beaten man who had made twenty voyages around Cape Horn, and who was known as a man of few words, and those always of command, closed the door upon them, drew down the shade on the sunny side of the room and faced her.

He saw now that something of more than usual importance absorbed her.
"Now, what is it ?" he asked.

His manner had by this time regained something of the dictatorial tone he always showed those beneath him in authority.
"It's about Bart.