The Captain wore a rough pea-jacket and long boots,
while his head was adorned with a nondescript covering which might
have begun life either as a hat or a cap, but would now hardly be
owned by either family.
Reaching the house, the old man mounted the rude steps which led to
the door, and entered the room which was kitchen, dining, and drawing
room at Storm Castle, as the lighthouse was called by its inhabitants.
The room was light and cheerful, with a pleasant little fire crackling
sociably on the hearth. The table was laid with a clean white cloth,
the kettle was singing on the hob, and a little covered saucepan was
simmering with an agreeable and suggestive sound; but no one was to
be seen. Alarmed, he hardly knew why, at the silence and solitude,
Captain January set his parcels down on the table, and going to the
foot of the narrow stone staircase which wound upward beside the
chimney, called, "Star! Star Bright, where are you? Is anything
wrong?"
"No, Daddy Captain!" answered a clear, childish voice from above;
"I'm coming in a minute. Be patient, Daddy dear!"
With a sigh of relief, Captain January retired to the fireplace, and
sitting down in a huge high-backed armchair, began leisurely pulling
off his great boots.
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