KEZIAH COFFIN

by Joseph C. Lincoln

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH HEARS OF TWO PROPOSALS AND THE BEGINNING OF A THIRD

II. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH UNEARTHS A PROWLER

III. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH ASSUMES A GUARDIANSHIP

IV. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH'S PARSON DECIDES TO RUN IT BLINDFOLD

V. -- IN WHICH THE PARSON CRUISES IN STRANGE WATERS

VI. -- IN WHICH OLD FRIENDS MEET

VII. -- IN WHICH CAPTAIN NAT PICKS UP A DERELICT

VIII. -- IN WHICH THE PARSON AND MR. PEPPER DECLARE THEIR INDEPENDENCE

IX. -- IN WHICH MISS DANIELS DETERMINES TO FIND OUT

X. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH'S TROUBLES MULTIPLY

XI. -- IN WHICH CAPEN EBEN RECEIVES A CALLER

XII. -- IN WHICH CAPTAIN EBEN MAKES PORT

XIII. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH BREAKS THE NEWS

XIV. -- IN WHICH THE SEA MIST SAILS

XV. -- IN WHICH TRUMET TALKS OF CAPTAIN NAT

XVI-- IN WHICH THE MINISTER BOARDS THE SAN JOSE

XVII. -- IN WHICH EBENEZER CAPEN IS SURPRISED

XVIII. --IN WHICH KEZIAH DECIDES TO FIGHT

XIX. -- IN WHICH A RECEPTION IS CALLED OFF

XX. -- IN WHICH THE MINISTER RECEIVES A LETTER

XXI. -- IN WHICH MR. STONE WASHES HIS HANDS

XXII. -- IN WHICH KEZIAH'S PARSON PREACHES ONCE MORE

KEZIAH COFFIN

by Joseph C. Lincoln

CHAPTER I

IN WHICH KEZIAH HEARS TWO PROPOSALS AND THE BEGINNING OF A THIRD

Trumet in a fog; a fog blown in during the night by the wind from thewide Atlantic. So wet and heavy that one might taste the salt in it. So thick that houses along the main road were but dim shapes behindits gray drapery, and only the gates and fences of the front yardswere plainly in evidence to the passers-by. The beach plum and bayberrybushes on the dunes were spangled with beady drops. The pole on CannonHill, where the beacon was hoisted when the packet from Boston droppedanchor in the bay, was shiny and slippery. The new weathervane, agilded whale, presented to the "Regular" church by Captain Zebedee Mayo, retired whaler, swam in a sea of cloud. The lichened eaves of the little"Come-Outer" chapel dripped at sedate intervals. The brick walk leadingto the door of Captain Elkanah Daniels's fine residence held undignifiedpuddles in its hollows. And, through the damp stillness, the mutteredgrowl of the surf, three miles away at the foot of the sandy bluffs bythe lighthouse, sounded ominously. 

Directly opposite Captain Elkanah's front gate, on the other side of themain road, stood the little story-and-a-half house, also the captain'sproperty, which for fourteen years had been tenanted by Mrs. KeziahCoffin and her brother, Solomon Hall, the shoemaker. But Solomon had, the month before, given up his fight with debt and illness and wassleeping quietly in Trumet's most populous center, the graveyard. AndKeziah, left alone, had decided that the rent and living expenses weremore than her precarious earnings as a seamstress would warrant, and, having bargained with the furniture dealer in Wellmouth for the sale ofher household effects, was now busy getting them ready for the morrow, when the dealer's wagon was to call. She was going to Boston, where adistant and condescending rich relative had interested himself to theextent of finding her a place as sewing woman in a large tailoringestablishment. 

The fog hung like a wet blanket over the house and its small yard, wherea few venerable pear trees, too conservative in their old age to venturea bud even though it was almost May, stood bare and forlorn. The day wasdismal. The dismantled dining room, its tables and chairs pushed into acorner, and its faded ingrain carpet partially stripped from the floor, was dismal, likewise. Considering all things, one might have expectedKeziah herself to be even more dismal. But, to all outward appearances, she was not. A large portion of her thirty-nine years of life had beenpassed under a wet blanket, so to speak, and she had not permittedthe depressing covering to shut out more sunshine than was absolutelynecessary. "If you can't get cream, you might as well learn to love yoursasser of skim milk, " said practical Keziah. 

She was on her knees, her calico dress sleeves, patched and darned, butabsolutely clean, rolled back, uncovering a pair of plump, strong arms, a saucer of tacks before her, and a tack hammer with a claw head inher hand. She was taking up the carpet. Grace Van Horne, Captain EbenHammond's ward, who had called to see if there was anything she might doto help, was removing towels, tablecloths, and the like from the drawersin a tall "high-boy, " folding them and placing them in an old andbattered trunk. The pair had been discussing the subject which allTrumet had discussed for three weeks, namely, the "calling" to thepastorate of the "Regular" church of the Rev. John Ellery, the youngdivinity student, who was to take the place of old Parson Langley, minister in the parish for over thirty years. Discussion in the villagehad now reached a critical point, for the Reverend John was expectedby almost any coach. In those days, the days of the late fifties, therailroad down the Cape extended only as far as Sandwich; passengers madethe rest of their journey by stage. Many came direct from the city bythe packet, the little schooner, but Mr. Ellery had written that heshould probably come on the coach. 

"They say he's very nice-looking, " remarked Miss Van Horne soberly, but with a MISCHIEVOUS glance under her dark lashes at Keziah. The ladyaddressed paused long enough to transfer several tacks from the floor tothe saucer, and then made answer. 

"Humph!" she observed. "A good many years ago I saw a theater show upto Boston. Don't be shocked; those circumstances we hear so much tellof--the kind you can't control--have kept me from goin' to theatersmuch, even if I wanted to. But I did see this entertainment, and a foolone 'twas, too, all singin' instead of talkin'--op'ra, I believe theycalled it. Well, as I started to say, one of the leadin' folks in it wasthe Old Harry himself, and HE was pretty good-lookin'. "

Grace laughed, even though she had been somewhat shocked. 

"Why, Aunt Keziah!" she exclaimed--those who knew Keziah Coffinbest usually called her aunt, though real nephews and nieces she hadnone--"why, Aunt Keziah! What do you mean by comparing the--the personyou just mentioned with a MINISTER!"

"Oh, I wasn't comparin' 'em; I'll leave that for you Come-Outers to do. Drat this carpet! Seems's if I never saw such long tacks; I do believewhoever put 'em down drove 'em clean through the center of the earth andlet the Chinymen clinch 'em on t'other side. I haul up a chunk of thecellar floor with every one. Ah, hum!" with a sigh, "I cal'latethey ain't any more anxious to leave home than I am. But, far's theminister's concerned, didn't I hear of your Uncle Eben sayin' in prayermeetin' only a fortni't or so ago that all hands who wa'n't Come-Outerswere own children to Satan? Mr. Ellery must take after his father some. Surprisin', ain't it, what a family the old critter's got. "

The girl laughed again. For one brought up, since her seventh year, in the strictest of Come-Outer families, she laughed a good deal. ManyCome-Outers considered it wicked to laugh. Yet Grace did it, and herswas a laugh pleasant to hear and distinctly pleasant to see. It made herprettier than ever, a fact which, if she was aware of it, should havebeen an additional preventive, for to be pretty smacks of vanity. Perhaps she wasn't aware of it. 

"What do you think Uncle Eben would say if he heard that?" she asked. 

"Say I took after my father, too, I presume likely. Does your uncle knowyou come here to see me so often? And call me 'aunt' and all that?"

"Of course he does. Aunt Keziah, you mustn't think Uncle Eben doesn'tsee the good in people simply because they don't believe as he does. He's as sweet and kind as--"

"Who? Eben Hammond? Land sakes, child, don't I know it? Cap'n Eben's thesalt of the earth. I'm a Regular and always have been, but I'd be gladif my own society was seasoned with a few like him. 'Twould taste betterto me of a Sunday. " She paused, and then added quizzically: "What d'yous'pose Cap'n Elkanah and the rest of our parish committee would say ifthey heard THAT?"

"Goodness knows! Still, I'm glad to hear you say it. And uncle says youare as good a woman as ever lived. He thinks you're misled, of course, but that some day you'll see the error of your ways. "

"Humph! I'll have to hurry up if I want to see 'em without spectacles. See my errors! Land sakes! much as I can do to see the heads of thesetacks. Takin' up carpets is as hard a test of a body's eyesight as 'tisof their religion. "

Her companion put down the tablecloth she was folding and lookedearnestly at the other woman. To an undiscerning eye the latter wouldhave looked much as she always did--plump and matronly, with brown hairdrawn back from the forehead and parted in the middle; keen brown eyeswith a humorous twinkle in them--this was the Keziah Coffin the latergeneration of Trumet knew so well. 

But Grace Van Horne, who called her aunt and came to see her sofrequently, while her brother was alive and during the month followinghis death, could see the changes which the month had wrought. She sawthe little wrinkles about the eyes and the lines of care about themouth, the tired look of the whole plucky, workaday New England figure. She shook her head. 

"Religion!" she repeated. "I do believe, Aunt Keziah, that you've gotthe very best religion of anybody I know. I don't care if you don'tbelong to our church. When I see how patient you've been and howcheerful through all your troubles, it--"

Mrs. Coffin waved the hammer deprecatingly. "There! there!" sheinterrupted. "I guess it's a good thing I'm goin' away. Here's you and Ipraisin' up each other's beliefs, just as if that wasn't a crime herein Trumet. Sometimes when I see how the two societies in this littleone-horse place row with each other, I declare if it doesn't look as ifthey'd crossed out the first word of 'Love your neighbor' and wrote in'Fight, ' instead. Yet I'm a pretty good Regular, too, and when it comesto whoopin' and carryin' on like the Come-Outers, I--Well! well!never mind; don't begin to bristle up. I won't say another word aboutreligion. Let's pick the new minister to pieces. ANY kind of a Christiancan do that. "

But the new minister was destined to remain undissected that morning, in that house at least. Grace was serious now and she voiced the matterwhich had been uppermost in her mind since she left home. 

"Aunt Keziah, " she said, "why do you go away? What makes you? Is itabsolutely necessary?"

"Why do I go? Why, for the same reason that the feller that was hoveoverboard left the ship--cause I can't stay. You've got to have vittlesand clothes, even in Trumet, and a place to put your head in nights. Long's Sol was alive and could do his cobblin' we managed to get alongsomehow. What I could earn sewin' helped, and we lived simple. But whenhe was taken down and died, the doctor's bills and the undertaker's usedup what little money I had put by, and the sewin' alone wouldn't keepa healthy canary in bird seed. Dear land knows I hate to leave the oldhouse I've lived in for fourteen years and the town I was born in, butI've got to, for all I see. Thank mercy, I can pay Cap'n Elkanah hislast month's rent and go with a clear conscience. I won't owe anybody, that's a comfort, and nobody will owe me; though I could stand that, Iguess, " she added, prying at the carpet edge. 

"I don't care!" The girl's dark eyes flashed indignantly. "I think it'stoo bad of Cap'n Elkanah to turn you out when--"

"Don't talk that way. He ain't turnin' me out. He ain't lettin' housesfor his health and he'll need the money to buy his daughter's summerrigs. She ain't had a new dress for a month, pretty near, and here'sa young and good-lookin' parson heavin' in sight. Maybe Cap'n Elkanahwould think a minister was high-toned enough even for Annabel to marry. "

"He's only twenty-three, they say, " remarked Grace, a triflemaliciously. "Perhaps she'll adopt him. "

Annabel was the only child of Captain Elkanah Daniels, who owned thefinest house in town. She was the belle of Trumet, and had been for agood many years. 

Keziah laughed. 

"Well, " she said, "anyhow I've got to go. Maybe I'll like Boston firstrate, you can't tell. Or maybe I won't. Ah, hum! 'twouldn't be the firstthing I've had to do that I didn't like. "

Her friend looked at her. 

"Aunt, " she said, "I want to make a proposal to you, and you mustn't becross about it. "

"A proposal! Sakes alive! What'll I say? 'This is so sudden!' That'swhat Becky Ryder, up to the west part of the town, said when Jim Baker, the tin peddler, happened to ask her if she'd ever thought of gettin'married. 'O James! this is so sudden!' says Becky. Jim said afterwardsthat the suddenest thing about it was the way he cleared out of thathouse. And he never called there afterwards. "

Grace smiled, but quickly grew grave. 

"Now, auntie, " she said, "please listen. I'm in earnest. It seems to methat you might do quite well at dressmaking here in town, if you hada little--well, ready money to help you at the start. I've got a fewhundred dollars in the bank, presents from uncle, and my father'sinsurance money. I should love to lend it to you, and I know unclewould--"

Mrs. Coffin interrupted her. 

"Cat's foot!" she exclaimed. "I hope I haven't got where I need toborrow money yet a while. Thank you just as much, deary, but long's I'vegot two hands and a mouth, I'll make the two keep t'other reasonablyfull, I wouldn't wonder. No, I shan't think of it, so don't say anotherword. NO. "

The negative was so decided that Grace was silenced. Her disappointmentshowed in her face, however, and Keziah hastened to change the subject. 

"How do you know, " she observed, "but what my goin' to Boston may be thebest thing that ever happened to me? You can't tell. No use despairin', Annabel ain't given up hope yet; why should I? Hey? Ain't that somebodycomin'?"

Her companion sprang to her feet and ran to the window. Then she brokeinto a smothered laugh. 

"Why, it's Kyan Pepper!" she exclaimed. "He must be coming to see you, Aunt Keziah. And he's got on his very best Sunday clothes. Gracious! Imust be going. I didn't know you expected callers. "

Keziah dropped the tack hammer and stood up. 

"Kyan!" she repeated. "What in the world is that old idiot comin' herefor? To talk about the minister, I s'pose. How on earth did Laviny evercome to let him out alone?"

Mr. Pepper, Mr. Abishai Pepper, locally called "Kyan" (Cayenne) Pepperbecause of his red hair and thin red side whiskers, was one of Trumet's"characters, " and in his case the character was weak. He was born in thevillage and, when a youngster, had, like every other boy of good familyin the community, cherished ambitions for a seafaring life. His sister, Lavinia, ten years older than he, who, after the death of their parents, had undertaken the job of "bringing up" her brother, did not sympathizewith these ambitions. Consequently, when Kyan ran away she followed himto Boston, stalked aboard the vessel where he had shipped, and collaredhim, literally and figuratively. One of the mates venturing to offerobjection, Lavinia turned upon him and gave him a piece of her mind, tothe immense delight of the crew and the loungers on the wharf. Then shereturned with the vagrant to Trumet. Old Captain Higgins, who skipperedthe packet in those days, swore that Lavinia never stopped lecturing herbrother from the time they left Boston until they dropped anchor behindthe breakwater. 

"I give you my word that 'twas pretty nigh a stark calm, but there wassuch a steady stream of language pourin' out of the Pepper stateroomthat the draught kept the sails filled all the way home, " assertedCaptain Higgins. 

That was Kyan's sole venture, so far as sailoring was concerned, but heran away again when he was twenty-five. This time he returned of hisown accord, bringing a wife with him, one Evelyn Gott of Ostable. Evelyncould talk a bit herself, and her first interview with Lavinia endedwith the latter's leaving the house in a rage, swearing never to setfoot in it again. This oath she broke the day of her sister-in-law'sfuneral. Then she appeared, after the ceremony, her baggage on the wagonwith her. The bereaved one, who was sitting on the front stoop of hisdwelling with, so people say, a most resigned expression on his meekcountenance, looked up and saw her. 

"My land! Laviny, " he exclaimed, turning pale. "Where'd you come from?"

"Never mind WHERE I come from, " observed his sister promptly. "You justbe thankful I've come. If ever a body needed some one to take care of'em, it's you. You can tote my things right in, " she added, turning toher grinning driver, "and you, 'Bishy, go right in with 'em. The ideaof your settin' outside takin' it easy when your poor wife ain't beenburied more'n an hour!"

"But--but--Laviny, " protested poor Kyan, speaking the truth unwittingly, "I couldn't take it easy AFORE she was buried, could I?"

"Go right in, " was the answer. "March!"

Abishai marched, and had marched under his sister's orders ever since. She kept house for him, and did it well, but her one fear was that somefemale might again capture him, and she watched him with an eagleeye. He was the town assessor and tax collector, but when he visiteddwellings containing single women or widows, Lavinia always accompaniedhim, "to help him in his figgerin', " she said. 

Consequently, when he appeared, unchaperoned, on the walk leading to theside door of the Coffin homestead, Keziah and her friend were surprised. 

"He's dressed to kill, " whispered Grace, at the window. "Even his tallhat; and in this fog! I do believe he's coming courting, Aunt Keziah. "

"Humph!" was the ungracious answer. "He's come to say good-by, I s'pose, and to find out where I'm goin' and how much pay I'm goin' to get and ifmy rent's settled, and a few other little things that ain't any ofhis business. Laviny put him up to it, you see. She'll be along prettyquick. Well, I'll fix him so he won't talk much. He can help us takedown that stovepipe. I said 'twas a job for a man, and a half one'sbetter than none--Why, how d'ye do, 'Bishy? Come right in. Pretty thickoutside, isn't it?"

Mr. Pepper entered diffidently. 

"Er--er--how d'ye do, Keziah?" he stammered. "I thought I'd just run ina minute and--"

"Yes, yes. Glad to see you. Take off your hat. My sakes! it's prettywet. How did Laviny come to let you--I mean how'd you come to wear abeaver such a mornin's this?"

Kyan removed the silk hat and inspected its limp grandeur ruefully. 

"I--I--" he began. "Well, the fact is, I come out by myself. You see, Laviny's gone up to Sarah B. 's to talk church doin's. I--I--well, I kindof wanted to speak with you about somethin', Keziah, so--Oh! I didn'tsee you, Gracie. Good mornin'. "

He didn't seem overjoyed to see Miss Van Horne, as it was. In fact, he reddened perceptibly and backed toward the door. The girl, her eyestwinkling, took up her jacket and hat. 

"Oh! I'm not going to stop, Mr. Pepper, " she said. "I was only helpingAunt Keziah a little, that's all. I must run on now. "

"Run on--nonsense!" declared Keziah decisively. "You're goin' to stayright here and help us get that stovepipe down. And 'Bishy'll help, too. Won't you, 'Bish?"

The stovepipe was attached to the "air-tight" in the dining room. It--the pipe--rose perpendicularly for a few feet and then extendedhorizontally, over the high-boy, until it entered the wall. Kyan lookedat it and then at his "Sunday clothes. "

"Why, I'd be glad to, of course, " he declared with dubious enthusiasm. "But I don't know's I'll have time. Perhaps I'd better come later and doit. Laviny, she--"

"Oh, Laviny can spare you for a few minutes, I guess; 'specially as shedon't know you're out. Better take your coat off, hadn't you? Grace, fetch one of those chairs for Ky--for 'Bishy to stand in. "

Grace obediently brought the chair. It happened to be the one with arickety leg, but its owner was helping the reluctant Abishai remove thelong-tailed blue coat which had been his wedding garment and had adornedhis person on occasions of ceremony ever since. She did not notice thechair. 

"It's real good of you to offer to help, " she said. "Grace and I didn'thardly dast to try it alone. That pipe's been up so long that I wouldn'twonder if 'twas chock-full of soot. If you're careful, though, I don'tbelieve you'll get any on you. Never mind the floor; I'm goin' to washthat before I leave. "

Reluctantly, slowly, the unwilling Mr. Pepper suffered himself to be ledto the chair. He mounted it and gingerly took hold of the pipe. 

"Better loosen it at the stove hole first, " advised Keziah. "What was ityou wanted to see me about, 'Bish?"

"Oh, nothin', nothin', " was the hasty response. "Nothin' of anyaccount--that is to say--"

He turned redder than ever and wrenched at the pipe. It loosened at itslower end and the wires holding it in suspension shook. 

"I guess, " observed the lady of the house, "that you'd better move thatchest of drawers out so's you can get behind it. Grace, you help me. There! that's better. Now move your chair. "

Kyan stepped from the chair and moved the latter to a position betweenthe high-boy and the wall. Then he remounted and gripped the pipe in themiddle of its horizontal section. 

"Seems to stick in the chimney there, don't it?" queried Keziah. "Wiggleit back and forth; that ought to loosen it. What was it you wanted tosay, 'Bish?"

Apparently, Mr. Pepper had nothing to say. The crimson tide had reachedhis ears, which, always noticeable because of their size and spread, were now lit up like a schooner's sails at sunset. His hands trembled onthe pipe. 

"Nothin', nothin', I tell you, " he faltered. "I--I just run in to sayhow d'ye do, that's all. "

"Really, I think I'd better be going, " said Grace, glancing from Kyan'sembarrassed face to that of the unsuspecting Mrs. Coffin. "I'm afraidI'm in the way. "

"No, no!" shouted the occupant of the chair. "No, no, you ain't!"

"But I'm afraid I am. And they'll be expecting me at home. Aunt Keziah, I--"

"Don't be in such a hurry, " interrupted Keziah. "Does stick in thechimney, don't it? Tell you what you can do, Grace; you can go in thewoodshed and fetch the hammer that's in the table drawer. Hurry up, that's a good girl. "

Kyan protested that he did not need the hammer, but his protest wasunheeded. With one more glance at the couple, Grace departed from thekitchen, biting her lips. She shut the door carefully behind her. Mr. Pepper labored frantically with the pipe. 

"No use to shake it any more till you get the hammer, " advised Keziah. "Might's well talk while you're waitin'. What was it you wanted to tellme?"

Abishai drew one hand across his forehead, leaving a decorative smoochof blacking on his perspiring countenance. He choked, swallowed, andthen, with a look at the closed door, seemed to reach a desperateresolve. 

"Keziah, " he whispered hurriedly, "you've known me quite a spell, ain'tyou?"

"Known you? Known you ever since you were born, pretty nigh. What ofit?"

"Yes, yes. And I've known you, you know. Fact is, we've known eachother. "

"Hear the man! Land sakes! don't everybody in Trumet know everybodyelse? What ARE you drivin' at?"

"Keziah, you're a single woman. "

His companion let go of the chair, which she had been holding in place, and stepped back. 

"I'm a single woman?" she repeated sharply. "What do you mean by that?Did--did anybody say I wasn't?"

"No, no! 'Course not. But you're a widow, so you BE single, you know, and--"

"Well? Did you think I was twins? Get down off there this minute. You'vegone crazy. I thought so when I saw that beaver. Either that or you'vebeen drinkin'. Grace! What DOES make her so long gettin' that hammer?"

Finding the hammer did seem to take a long time. There was no sound fromthe kitchen. Kyan, steadying himself with one hand on the pipe, wavedthe other wildly. 

"S-s-sh! s-sh-h!" he hissed. "Hush! be still! Don't get her in here. Keziah, you're single and so am I. You ain't got nobody to take care ofyou and I ain't, neither--that is, I don't want to be took care of--Imean, I've been took care of too much. "

Mrs. Coffin took another step in the direction of the kitchen. 

"He IS loony!" she exclaimed under her breath. "I--"

"No, no! I ain't loony. I want to make a proposal to you. I want to seeif you won't marry me. I'm sick of Laviny. Let's you and me settle downtogether. I could have some peace then. And I think a whole lot of you, too, " he added, apparently as an afterthought. 

Keziah's face was red now, and growing redder every instant. 

"Kyan Pepper!" she cried in amazed incredulity. "Kyan Pepper, do you--"

"Hurry up!" pleaded Abishai, in agitated impatience. "Say yes quick. She'll be back in a minute. "

"Say YES! Why, you--"

"Don't stop to argue, Keziah. I've got 'most fifteen hundred dollars inthe bank. Laviny keeps the pass book in her bureau, but you could get itfrom her. I own my house. I'm a man of good character. You're poor, but I don't let that stand in the way. Anyhow, you're a first-ratehousekeeper. And I really do think an awful lot of you. "

Mrs. Coffin stepped no farther in the direction of the kitchen. Instead, she strode toward the rickety chair and its occupant. Kyan grasped thepipe with both hands. 

"You poor--miserable--impudent--" began the lady. 

"Why, Keziah, don't you WANT to?" He spoke as if the possibility ofa refusal had never entered his mind. "I cal'lated you'd be glad. You wouldn't have to go away then, nor--My soul and body! some one'sknockin' at the door! AND THIS DUMMED PIPE'S FETCHED LOOSE!"

The last sentence was a smothered shriek. Keziah heeded not. Neitherdid she heed the knock at the door. Her hands were opening and closingconvulsively. 

"Be glad!" she repeated. "Glad to marry a good-for-nothin' sand-peeplike you! You sassy--GET down off that chair and out of this house! Getdown this minute!"

"I can't! This stovepipe's loose, I tell you! Be reason'ble, Keziah. Do--don't you touch me! I'll fall if you do. Pl-e-ase, Keziah!--O Lordy!I knew it. LAVINY!"

The door opened. On the threshold, arms akimbo and lips set tight, stoodLavinia Pepper. Her brother's knees gave way; in their collapse theystruck the chair back; the rickety leg wabbled. Kyan grasped at the pipeto save himself and, the next moment, chair, sections of stovepipe, andMr. Pepper disappeared with a mighty crash behind the high-boy. A cloudof soot arose and obscured the view. 

Keziah, too indignant even to laugh, glared at the wreck. In the doorwayof the kitchen Grace Van Horne, hammer in hand, leaned against the jamb, her handkerchief at her mouth and tears in her eyes. Lavinia, majesticand rigid, dominated the scene. From behind the high-boy came coughs, sneezes, and emphatic ejaculations. 

Miss Pepper was the first to speak. 

"Abishai Pepper, " she commanded, "come out of that this minute. "

Her answer was a tremendous sneeze. Then from the dusky cloud by thewall sounded a voice feebly protesting. 

"Now, Laviny, " began poor Kyan, "I never in my life--"

"Do you hear me? Come out of that!"

There was a sound of scrambling. More soot floated in the air. Thenaround the corner of the high-boy appeared Mr. Pepper, crawling on hishands and knees. His hair was streaked with black; his shirt front andcollar and shirt sleeves were spotted and smeared with black; and fromhis blackened cheeks his red whiskers flamed like the last glowingembers in a fire-scarred ruin. 

"Laviny, " he panted, "I never was so surprised and upsot in all my lifeafore. "

This was too much for Grace. She collapsed in a chair and laughedhysterically. Even the wrathful Keziah smiled. But Lavinia did notsmile. For that matter, neither did her brother. 

"Hum!" sneered Miss Pepper. "Upsot! Yes, I see you're upsot. Get up, andtry to look as much like a Christian as you can!"

Kyan rose from his knees to his feet and rubbed his back. He glancedreproachfully at Grace, then fearfully at his sister. 

"I was just tryin' to help Keziah take down her stovepipe, " heexplained. "You see, she didn't have no man to--"

"Yes, I see. Well, I judge you got it down. Now you go out to the sinkand wash your face. Heavens and earth! Look at them clothes!"

"I do hope you didn't hurt yourself, Abishai, " said the sympatheticKeziah. Then, as remembrance of what had led to the upset came to her, she added: "Though I will say 'twas your own fault and nobody else's. "

Lavinia whirled on her. 

"His own fault, was it?" she repeated, her voice shrill and trembling. "Thank you very much, marm. I cal'late 'twas his own fault comin'here, too, wa'n't it? Nobody led him on, I s'pose. Nobody put him up toriggin' out in his best bib and tucker and sneakin' here the minute Iwas out of the house. No, nobody did! Of COURSE not!"

"No, nobody did, " said Keziah briskly. "And you may know what you'rehintin' at, but I don't. "

"Dear me! Ain't we innocent! We've got plenty of money, WE have. Widowers with property ain't no attraction to US. Everybody knowsthat--oh, yes! And they never talk of such a thing--oh, no! Folks don'tsay that--that--Well, " with a snarl in the direction of the kitchen, "are you anywheres nigh clean yet? Get your coat and hat on and comehome with me. "

She jerked her brother into the blue coat, jammed the tall hat down uponhis head, and, seizing him by the arm, stalked to the door. 

"Good day, marm, " she said. "I do hope the next widower you get to takedown your stovepipe--yes, indeed! ha! ha!--I hope you'll have betterluck with him. Though I don't know who 'twould be; there ain't no moreidiots in town that I know of. Good day, and thank you kindly for yourattentions to our family. "

She pulled the door open and was on the step; but Mrs. Coffin did notintend to let her go in just that way. 

"Laviny Pepper, " she declared, her eyes snapping, "I don't know whatyou're talkin' about, but if you dare to mean that I want any of yourmoney, or your brother's money, you're mistaken--'cause I don't. And Idon't want your brother either--Lord help him, poor thing! And I tellyou right now that there's nobody that does; though some kind-heartedfolks have said 'twould be a Christian act to poison him, so's to puthim out of his misery. There! Good mornin' to you. "

She slammed the door. Lavinia was speechless. As for her brother, butone remark of his reached Grace, who was watching from the window. 

"Laviny, " pleaded Kyan, "just let me explain. "

At nine o'clock that night he was still "explaining. "

Keziah turned from the door she had closed behind her visitor. 

"Well!" she ejaculated. "WELL!"

Her friend did not look at her. She was still gazing out of the window. Occasionally she seemed to choke. 

Keziah eyed her suspiciously. 

"Humph!" she mused. "'Twas funny, wasn't it?"

"Oh, dreadfully!" was the hurried answer. 

"Yes. Seems to me you took an awful long time findin' that hammer. "

"It was away back in the drawer. I didn't see it at first. "

"Hum! Grace Van Horne, if I thought you heard what that--that THING saidto me, I'd--I'd--Good land of mercy! somebody ELSE is comin'. "

Steps, measured, dignified steps, sounded on the walk. From without camea "Hum--ha!" a portentous combination of cough and grunt. Grace dodgedback from the window and hastily began donning her hat and jacket. 

"It's Cap'n Elkanah, " she whispered. "I must go. This seems to be yourbusy morning, Aunt Keziah. I"--here she choked again--"really, I didn'tknow you were so popular. "

Keziah opened the door. Captain Elkanah Daniels, prosperous, pompous, and unbending, crossed the threshold. Richest man in the village, retired shipowner, pillar of the Regular church and leading member ofits parish committee, Captain Elkanah looked the part. He removedhis hat, cleared his throat behind his black stock, and spoke withimpressive deliberation. 

"Good morning, Keziah. Ah--er--morning, Grace. " Even in the tone givento a perfunctory salutation like this, the captain differentiatedbetween Regular and Come-Outer. "Keziah, I--hum, ha!--rather expected tofind you alone. "

"I was just going, Cap'n Daniels, " explained the girl. The captain bowedand continued. 

"Keziah, " he said, "Keziah, I came to see you on a somewhat importantmatter. I have a proposal I wish to make you. "

He must have been surprised at the effect of his words. Keziah's facewas a picture, a crimson picture of paralyzed amazement. As for Miss VanHorne, that young lady gave vent to what her friend described afterwardsas a "squeal, " and bolted out of the door and into the gratefulseclusion of the fog. 

CHAPTER II

IN WHICH KEZIAH UNEARTHS A PROWLER

The fog was cruel to the gossips of Trumet that day. Mrs. Didama Rogers, who lived all alone, except for the society of three cats, a canary, and a white poodle named "Bunch, " in the little house next to CaptainElkanah's establishment, never entirely recovered from the chagrinand disappointment caused by that provoking mist. When one habituallyhurries through the morning's household duties in order to sit by thefront window and note each passer-by, with various fascinating surmisesas to his or her errand and the reasons for it, it is discouraging to beable to see only one's own front fence and a scant ten feet of sidewalk. And then to learn afterwards of a dozen most exciting events, eachdistinctly out of the ordinary, which might have been used as excusesfor two dozen calls and as many sensations! As Captain Zeb Mayo, theirreverent ex-whaler, put it, "That fog shook Didama's faith in thejudgment of Providence. 'Tain't the 'all wise, ' but the 'all seein''kind she talks about in meetin' now. "

The fog prevented Mrs. Rogers's noting the entrance of Mr. Pepper at theCoffin front gate. Also his exit, under sisterly arrest. It shut fromher view the majestic approach of Captain Elkanah Daniels and Grace'sflight, her face dimpled with smiles and breaking into laughterat frequent intervals. For a young lady, supposed to be a devoutCome-Outer, to hurry along the main road, a handkerchief at her mouthand her eyes sparkling with fun, was a circumstance calculated tofurnish material for enjoyable scandal. And Didama missed it. 

Other happenings she missed, also. Not knowing of Captain Daniels's callupon Keziah, she was deprived of the pleasure of wonder at the length ofhis stay. She did not see him, in company with Mrs. Coffin, go downthe road in the opposite direction from that taken by Grace. Nor theirreturn and parting at the gate, two hours later. She did not see--butthere! she saw nothing, absolutely nothing--except the scraggy sprucetree in her tiny front yard and the lonely ten feet of walk borderingit. No one traversed that section of walk except old Mrs. Tinker, whowas collecting subscriptions for new hymn books for the Come-Outerchapel. And Didama was particularly anxious NOT to see her. 

The dismal day dragged on. The silver-leaf trees dripped, the hedgeswere shining with moisture. Through the stillness the distant surf alongthe "ocean side" of the Cape growled and moaned and the fog bell at thelighthouse clanged miserably. Along the walk opposite Didama's--themore popular side of the road--shadowy figures passed at long intervals, children going to and from school, people on errands to the store, andthe like. It was three o'clock in the afternoon before a visitor cameagain to the Coffin front gate, entered the yard and rapped at the sidedoor. 

Keziah opened the door. 

"Halloa!" she exclaimed. "Back, are you? I begun to think you'd beenscared away for good. "

Grace laughed as she entered. 

"Well, auntie, " she said, "I don't wonder you thought I was scared. Truly, I didn't think it was proper for me to stay. First Kyan and thenCap'n Elkanah, and both of them expressing their wishes to see you aloneso--er--pointedly. I thought it was time for me to go. Surely, you giveme credit for a little delicacy. "

Keziah eyed her grimly. 

"Humph!" she sniffed. "If you'd been a little less delicate aboutfetchin' that hammer, we might have been spared at least one smash-up. Idon't s'pose Laviny'll ever speak to me again. Oh, dear! I guess likelyI'll never get the memory of that--that Kyan thing out of my mind. Inever was so set back in my born days. Yes, you can laugh!"

She laughed herself as she said it. As for Grace, it was sometime beforethat young lady became coherent. 

"He DID look so funny!" she gasped. "Hopping up and down on that shakychair and holding on to that pipe and--and--O Aunt Keziah, if you couldhave seen your face when I opened that door!"

"Yes; well, I will say you was sometime gettin' it open. And then, ontop of the whole fool business, in parades Elkanah Daniels and--"

She paused. Her companion looked delightedly expectant. 

"Yes, " she cried eagerly. "Then Cap'n Elkanah came and the very firstthing he said was--I almost laughed in his face. "

"Almost! Humph! that's no exaggeration. The way you put out of that doorwas a caution. "

"Yes, but what did the cap'n mean? Is it a secret? Ahem! shall Icongratulate you, auntie?"

"Grace Van Horne! there's born fools enough in this town without yourtryin' to be one. You know 'twa'n't THAT. Though what 'twas was surpriseenough, I will say, " she added. "Grace, I ain't goin' away to-morrow. "

"You're not? Oh, splendid! Has the cap'n decided to let you stay here?"

"I guess his decidin' wouldn't influence me, if twas stayin' in hishouse he meant. The only way I could live here would be on his charity, and that would be as poor fodder as sawdust hasty puddin', even if Iwas fond of charity, which I ain't. He said to me--Well, you take yourthings off and I'll tell you about it. You can stay a little while, can't you?"

"Yes, I was going to stay all the afternoon and for supper, if you'd letme. I knew you had so much to do and I wanted to help. I told uncle andhe said certainly I ought to come. He said he should try to see you andsay good-by before you left tomorrow. "

"You don't say! And me a Regular! Well, I'm much obliged, though I guessyour Uncle Eben won't see me to-morrow--nor speak to me again, when heknows what I AM going to do. Grace, I ain't goin' to leave Trumet, notfor the present, anyhow. I've got a way of earnin' my livin' right here. I'm goin' to keep house for the new minister. "

The girl turned, her hat in her hand. 

"Oh!" she cried in utter astonishment. 

Keziah nodded. "Yes, " she affirmed. "That was what Elkanah's proposalamounted to. Ha! ha! Deary me! When he said 'proposal, ' I own up fora minute I didn't know WHAT was comin'. After Kyan I was preparedfor 'most anything. But he told me that Lurany Phelps, who the parishcommittee had counted on to keep house for Mr. Ellery, had sent word hersister was sick and couldn't be left, and that somebody must be hiredright off 'cause the minister's expected by day after to-morrow's coach. And they'd gone over every likely candidate in town till it simmereddown to Mehitable Burgess. And Cap'n Zeb Mayo spoke right up in thecommittee meetin' and gave out that if Mehitable kept house for Mr. Ellery he, for one, wouldn't come to church. Said he didn't want to hearsermons that was inspired by HER cookin'. Seems she cooked for the Mayosone week when Mrs. Mayo had gone to Boston, and Cap'n Zeb declares hisdreams that week was somethin' awful. 'And I'm a man with no nerves andmighty little imagination, ' he says. 'Land knows what effect a dose ofMehitable's biscuits might have on a MINISTER. '

"And so, " continued Keziah, "they decided Mehitable wouldn't do, andfinally somebody thought of me. I have a notion 'twas Zeb, althoughCap'n Elkanah did his best to make me think 'twas himself. And the cap'nwas made a delegate to come and see me about it. Come he did, and wesettled it. I went down to the parsonage with him before dinner andlooked the place over. There's an awful lot of sweepin' and dustin' tobe done afore it's fit for a body to live in. I did think that when I'dfinished with this house I could swear off on that kind of dissipationfor a while, but I guess, judgin' by the looks of that parsonage, whatI've done so far is only practice. " She paused, glanced keenly at herfriend and asked: "Why! what's the matter? You don't act nigh so glad asI thought you'd be. "

Grace said of course she was glad; but she looked troubled, nevertheless. 

"I can hardly make it seem possible, " she said. "Is it reallysettled--your salary and everything? And what will you do about yourposition in Boston?"

"Oh, I'll write Cousin Abner and tell him. Lord love you, HE won't care. He'll feel that he did his duty in gettin' me the Boston chance and if Idon't take it 'tain't his fault. HIS conscience'll be clear. Land sakes!if I could clean house as easy as some folks clear their consciences Iwouldn't have a backache this minute. Yes, the wages are agreed on, too. And totin' them around won't make my back ache any worse, either, " sheadded drily. 

Grace extended her hand. 

"Well, Aunt Keziah, " she said, "I'm ever and ever so glad for you. I know you didn't want to leave Trumet and I'm sure everyone will bedelighted when they learn that you're going to stay. "

"Humph! that includes Laviny Pepper, of course. I cal'late Laviny'sdelight won't keep her up nights. But I guess I can stand it if she can. Now, Grace, what is it? You AIN'T real pleased? Why not?"

The girl hesitated. 

"Auntie, " she said, "I'm selfish, I guess. I'm glad for your sake; youmustn't think I'm not. But I almost wish you were going to do somethingelse. You are going to live in the Regular parsonage and keep housefor, of all persons, a Regular minister. Why, so far as my seeing you isconcerned, you might as well be in China. You know Uncle Eben. "

Keziah nodded understandingly. 

"Yes, " she said, "I know him. Eben Hammond thinks that parsonage isthe presence chamber of the Evil One, I presume likely. But, Grace, youmustn't blame me, and if you don't call I'll know why and I shan't blameyou. We'll see each other once in a while; I'll take care of that. And, deary, I HAD to do it--I just had to. If you knew what a load had beentook off my mind by this, you'd sympathize with me and understand. I'vebeen happier in Trumet than I ever was anywhere else, though I've seensome dark times here, too. I was born here; my folks used to live here. My brother Sol lived and died here. His death was a heavy trouble tome, but the heaviest came to me when I was somewheres else and--well, somehow I've had a feelin' that, if there was any real joys ever plannedout for me while I'm on this earth, they'd come to me here. I don't knowwhen they'll come. There's times when I can't believe they ever willcome, but--There! there! everybody has to bear burdens in this life, Ical'late. It's a vale of tears, 'cordin' to you Come-Outer folks, thoughI've never seen much good in wearin' a long face and a crape bathin'suit on that account. Hey? What are you listenin' to?"

"I thought I heard a carriage stop, that was all. "

Mrs. Coffin went to the window and peered into the fog. 

"Can't see anything, " she said. "'Tain't anybody for here, that's sure. I guess likely 'twas Cap'n Elkanah. He and Annabel were goin' to driveover to Denboro this afternoon. She had some trimmin' to buy. Takes morethan fog to separate Annabel Daniels from dressmakin'. Well, there's alittle more packin' to do; then I thought I'd go down to that parsonageand take a whack at the cobwebs. I never saw so many in my born days. You'd think all the spiders from here to Ostable had been holdin' campmeetin' in that shut-up house. "

The packing took about an hour. When it was finished, the carpet rolledup, and the last piece of linen placed in the old trunk, Keziah turnedto her guest. 

"Now, Gracie, " she said, "I feel as though I ought to go to theparsonage. I can't do much more'n look at the cobwebs to-night, butto-morrow those spiders had better put on their ascension robes. Theend of the world's comin' for them, even though it missed fire for theMillerites when they had their doin's a few years ago. You can stayhere and wait, if 'twon't be too lonesome. We'll have supper when I getback. "

Grace looked tempted. 

"I've a good mind to go with you, " she said. "I want to be with you asmuch as I can, and HE isn't there yet. I'm afraid uncle might not likeit, but--"

"Sho! Come along. Eben Hammond may be a chronic sufferer from acuteCome-Outiveness, but he ain't a ninny. Nobody'll see you, anyway. Thisfog's like charity, it'll cover a heap of sins. Do come right along. Wait till I get on my things. "

She threw a shawl over her shoulders, draped a white knitted "cloud"over her head, and took from a nail a key, attached by a strong cord toa block of wood eight inches long. 

"Elkanah left the key with me, " she observed. "No danger of losin' it, is there. Might as well lose a lumber yard. Old Parson Langley tied itup this way, so he wouldn't miss his moorin's, I presume likely. Thepoor old thing was so nearsighted and absent-minded along toward thelast that they say he used to hire Noah Myrick's boy to come in and lookhim over every Sunday mornin' before church, so's to be sure he hadn'tgot his wig on stern foremost. That's the way Zeb Mayo tells the yarn, anyhow. "

They left the house and came out into the wet mist. Then, turning tothe right, in the direction which Trumet, with unconscious irony, calls"downtown, " they climbed the long slope where the main road mounts theoutlying ridge of Cannon Hill, passed Captain Mayo's big house--thefinest in Trumet, with the exception of the Daniels mansion--anddescended into the hollow beyond. Here, at the corner where the"Lighthouse Lane" begins its winding way over the rolling knolls anddunes to the light and the fish shanties on the "ocean side, " stoodthe plain, straight-up-and-down meeting house of the Regular society. Directly opposite was the little parsonage, also very straight up anddown. Both were painted white with green blinds. This statement issuperfluous to those who remember Cape architecture at this period;practically every building from Sandwich to Provincetown was white andgreen. 

They entered the yard, through the gap in the white fence, and wentaround the house, past the dripping evergreens and the bare, wet lilacbushes, to the side door, the lock of which Keziah's key fitted. Therewas a lock on the front door, of course, but no one thought of meddlingwith that. That door had been opened but once during the late pastor'sthirty-year tenantry. On the occasion of his funeral the mourners cameand went, as was proper, by that solemn portal. 

Mrs. Coffin thrust the key into the keyhole of the side door and essayedto turn it. 

"Humph!" she muttered, twisting to no purpose; "I don't see why--Thismust be the right key, because--Well, I declare, if it ain't unlockedalready! That's some of Cap'n Elkanah's doin's. For a critter as fussyand particular about some things, he's careless enough about others. Mercy we ain't had any tramps around here lately. Come in. "

She led the way into the dining room of the parsonage. Two of the blindsshading the windows of that apartment had been opened when she andCaptain Daniels made their visit, and the dim gray light made the roommore lonesome and forsaken in appearance than a deeper gloom couldpossibly have done. The black walnut extension table in the center, closed to its smallest dimensions because Parson Langley had eaten alonefor so many years; the black walnut chairs set back against the wall atregular intervals; the rag carpet and braided mats--homemade donationsfrom the ladies of the parish--on the green painted floor; the dolorouspictures on the walls; "Death of Washington, " "Stoning of Stephen, " anda still more deadly "fruit piece" committed in oils years ago by a nowdeceased boat painter; a black walnut sideboard with some blue-and-whitecrockery upon it; a gilt-framed mirror with another outrage in oilsemphasizing its upper half; dust over everything and the cobwebsmentioned by Keziah draping the corners of the ceiling; this was thedining room of the Regular parsonage as Grace saw it upon this, herfirst visit. The dust and cobwebs were, in her eyes, the only novelties, however. Otherwise, the room was like many others in Trumet, and, ifthere had been one or two paintings of ships, would have been typical ofthe better class. 

"Phew!" exclaimed Keziah, sniffing disgustedly. "Musty and shut upenough, ain't it? Down here in the dampness, and 'specially in thespring, it don't take any time for a house to get musty if it ain'taired out regular. Mr. Langley died only three months ago, but we'vebeen candidatin' ever since and the candidates have been boarded round. There's been enough of 'em, too; we're awful hard to suit, I guess. That's it. Do open some more blinds and a window. Fresh air don't hurtanybody--unless it's spiders, " with a glare at the loathed cobwebs. 

The blinds and a window being opened, more light entered the room. Graceglanced about it curiously. 

"So this is going to be your new home now, Aunt Keziah, " she observed. "How queer that seems. "

"Um--h'm. Does seem queer, don't it? Must seem queer to you to be sonear the headquarters of everything your uncle thinks is wicked. Smellof brimstone any, does it?" she asked with a smile. 

"No, I haven't noticed it. You've got a lot of cleaning to do. I wish Icould help. Look at the mud on the floor. "

Keziah looked. 

"Mud?" she exclaimed. "Why, so 'tis! How in the world did that comehere? Wet feet, sure's you're born. Man's foot, too. Cap'n Elkanah's, I guess likely; though the prints don't look hardly big enough for his. Elkanah's convinced that he's a great man and his boots bear him outin it, don't they? Those marks don't look broad enough for hisunderstandin', but I guess he made 'em; nobody else could. Here's thesettin' room. "

She threw open another door. A room gloomy with black walnut andfragrant with camphor was dimly visible. 

"Cheerful's a tomb, ain't it?" was Mrs. Coffin's comment. "Well, we'llget some light and air in here pretty soon. Here's the front hall andthere's the front stairs. The parlor's off to the left. We won't botherwith that yet a while. This little place in here is what Mr. Langleyused to call his 'study. ' Halloa! how this door sticks!"

The door did stick, and no amount of tugging could get it open, thoughGrace added her efforts to those of Keziah. 

"'Tain't locked, " commented Mrs. Coffin, "cause there ain't any lock onit. I guess it's just swelled and stuck from the damp. Though it's odd, I don't remember--Oh, well! never mind. Let's sweeten up this settin'room a little. Open a window or two in here. We'll have to hurry if wewant to do anything before it gets dark. I'm goin' into the kitchen toget a broom. "

She hurried out, returning in a moment or two with a broom and a mostdisgusted expression. 

"How's a body goin' to sweep with that?" she demanded, exhibiting thefrayed utensil, the business end of which was worn to a stub. "Morelike a shovel, enough sight. Well, there's pretty nigh dust enough fora shovel, so maybe this'll take off the top layers. S'pose I'll ever getthis house fit for Mr. Ellery to live in before he comes? I wonder ifhe's a particular man?"

Grace, who was struggling with a refractory window, paused for breath. 

"I'm sure I don't know, " she replied. "I've never seen him. "

"Nor I either. Sol was so bad the Sunday he preached that I couldn't goto meetin'. They say his sermon was fine; all about those who go down tothe sea in ships. That's what got the parish committee, I guess; they'reall old salts. I wonder if he's as fine-lookin' as they say?"

Miss Van Horne tossed her head. She was resting, prior to making anotherassault on the window. 

"I don't know, " she said. "And I'm sure I don't care. I don't likegood-looking ministers. "

"Deary me! You're different from most females in this town, then. Andyou spoke of his good looks yourself this very mornin'. Why don't youlike the good-lookin' ones?"

"Oh, because they're always conceited and patronizing and superior--andspoiled. I can just imagine this Mr. Ellery of yours strutting about insewing circle or sociables, with Annabel and Georgianna Lothrop and therest simpering and gushing and getting in his way: 'O Mr. Ellery, I didso enjoy that sermon of yours Sunday!' and 'O Mr. Ellery, it was SO goodof you to come this afternoon!' Pooh! I'm glad I'm a Come-Outer. Notthat I would simper over him if I wasn't. He couldn't patronize me--notmore than once, at any rate. "

Keziah was greatly amused. 

"Sakes alive!" she chuckled. "You're awfully high and mighty, seems tome. And changeable since mornin'. You was willin' enough to talk abouthim then. Now, Gracie, you mustn't take a spite against poor Mr. Elleryjust because I've got to keep house for him. 'Tain't his fault; he don'teven know it yet. "

"I don't care. I know he'll be a conceited little snippet and I shallhate the sight of him. There! there! Auntie, you mustn't mind me. Itold you I was a selfish pig. But don't you ask me to LIKE this preciousminister of yours, because I shan't do it. He has no business to comeand separate me from the best friend I've got. I'd tell him so if he washere--What was that?"

Both women looked at each other with startled faces. They listenedintently. 

"Why, wa'n't that funny!" whispered Keziah. "I thought I heard--"

"You DID hear. So did I. What do you suppose--"

"S-s-s-h-h! It sounded from the front room somewhere. And yet therecan't be anybody in there, because--My soul! there 'tis again. I'm goin'to find out. "

She grasped the stubby broom by the handle and moved determinedly towardthe front hall. Grace seized her by the arm. 

"Don't you do it, auntie!" she whispered frantically. "Don't you DO it!It may be a tramp. "

"I don't care. Whoever or whatever it is, it has no business in thishouse, and I'll make that plain in a hurry. Just like as not it's a catgot in when Elkanah was here this forenoon. Don't be scared, Grace. Comeright along. "

The girl came along, but not with enthusiasm. They tiptoed through thedark, narrow hall and peered into the parlor. This apartment was dim andstill and gloomy, as all proper parlors should be, but there was no signof life. 

"Humph!" sniffed Keziah. "It might have been upstairs, but it didn'tsound so. What did it sound like to you?"

"Like a footstep at first; and then like something falling--andrustling. Oh, what is the matter?"

Mrs. Coffin was glancing back down the hall with a strange expression onher face. Her grip upon the broom handle tightened. 

"What IS it?" pleaded the girl in an agonized whisper. 

"Grace, " was the low reply, "I've just remembered somethin'. That studydoor isn't stuck from the damp, because--well, because I remember nowthat it was open this mornin'. "

Before her companion could fully grasp the import of this paralyzingfact, Keziah strode down the hall and seized the knob of the study door. 

"Whoever you are in there, " she commanded sternly, "open this door andcome out this minute. Do you hear? I'm orderin' you to come out. "

There was an instant of silence; then a voice from within made answer, aman's voice, and its tone indicated embarrassment. 

"Madam, " it said, "I--I am--I will be out in another minute. If you willjust be patient--"

Grace interrupted with a smothered shriek. Keziah brandished the broom. 

"Patient!" she repeated sharply. "Well, I like that! What do you meanby--Open that door! Grace, run out and get the--the constable. "

This command was delivered entirely for effect. The office of constablein Trumet is, generally speaking, a purely honorary one. Its occupanthad just departed for a week's cruise as mate of a mackerel schooner. However, the effect was instantaneous. From behind the door came soundsof hurry and commotion. 

"Don't get the police on my account, please, " said the voice. "If youwill be patient until I get this--I'm just as anxious to come out as youcan be to have me. Of all the ridiculous--"

"Come out then!" snapped Keziah. "Come out! If you're so everlastin'anxious, then come out. Patience! Of all the cheek! Why don't you comeout NOW?"

The answer was brisk and to the point. Evidently, the unknown's stock ofthe virtue which he demanded of others was diminishing. 

"Well, to be frank, since you insist, " snapped the voice, "I'm not fullydressed. "

This was a staggerer. For once Keziah did not have a reply ready. She looked at Grace and the latter at her. Then, without words, theyretreated to the sitting room. 

"Shall--shall I go for help?" whispered the girl. "Hadn't we betterleave him here and--He doesn't sound like a tramp, does he. What DO yousuppose--"

"I hope you won't be alarmed, " continued the voice, broken by pantingpauses, as if the speaker was struggling into a garment. "I know thismust seem strange. You see, I came on the coach as far as Bayportand then we lost a wheel in a rut. There was a--oh, dear! where ISthat--this is supremely idiotic!--I was saying there happened to be aman coming this way with a buggy and he offered to help me along. He wason his way to Wellmouth. So I left my trunk to come later and took myvalise. It rained on the way and I was wet through. I stopped at CaptainDaniels's house and the girl said he had gone with his daughter to thenext town, but that they were to stop here at the parsonage on theirway. So--there! that's right, at last!--so I came, hoping to find them. The door was open and I came in. The captain and his daughter were nothere, but, as I was pretty wet, I thought I would seize the opportunityto change my clothes. I had some dry--er--things in my valise andI--well, then you came, you see, and--I assure you I--well, it was themost embarrassing--I'm coming now. "

The door opened. The two in the sitting room huddled close together, Keziah holding the broom like a battle-ax, ready for whatsoever mightdevelop. From the dimness of the tightly shuttered study stepped theowner of the voice, a stranger, a young man, his hair rumpled, histie disarranged, and the buttons of his waistcoat filling the wrongbuttonholes. Despite this evidence of a hasty toilet in semidarkness, hewas not unprepossessing. Incidentally, he was blushing furiously. 

"I'm--I'm sure I beg your pardon, ladies, " he stammered. "I scarcelyknow what to say to you. I--"

His eyes becoming accustomed to the light in the sitting room, he wasnow able to see his captors more clearly. He looked at Keziah, then atMiss Van Horne, and another wave of blushes passed from his collar upinto the roots of his hair. Grace blushed, too, though, as she perfectlywell knew, there was no reason why she should. 

Mrs. Coffin did not blush. This young fellow, although evidently not atramp or a burglar, had caused her some moments of distinct uneasiness, and she resented the fact. 

"Well, " she observed rather tartly, "I'm sorry you don't know what tosay, but perhaps you might begin by telling us who you are and what youmean by makin' a--er--dressin' room of a house that don't belong toyou, just because you happened to find the door unlocked. After thatyou might explain why you didn't speak up when we first come, insteadof keepin' so mighty quiet. That looks kind of suspicious to me, I mustsay. "

The stranger's answer was prompt enough now. It was evident he resentedthe suspicion. 

"I didn't speak, " he said, "because you took me by surprise and Iwasn't, as I explained--er--presentable. Besides, I was afraid offrightening you. I assure you I hurried as fast as I could, quietly, andwhen you began to talk"--his expression changed and there was a twitchat the corner of his mouth--"I tried to hurry still faster, hoping youmight not hear me and I could make my appearance--or my escape--sooner. As for entering the house--well, I considered it, in a way, my house; atleast, I knew I should live in it for a time, and--"

"Live in it?" repeated Keziah. "LIVE in it? Why! mercy on us! you don'tmean to say you're--"

She stopped to look at Grace. That young lady was looking at her withan expression which, as it expressed so very much, is beyond ordinarypowers of description. 

"My name is Ellery, " said the stranger. "I am the minister--the newminister of the Regular society. "

Then even Keziah blushed. 

CHAPTER III

IN WHICH KEZIAH ASSUMES A GUARDIANSHIP

Didama would have given her eyeteeth--and, for that matter, the entireupper set--to have been present in that parsonage sitting room when theRev. John Ellery made his appearance. But the fates were against Didamathat day and it was months afterwards before she, or any of whatCaptain Zeb Mayo called the "Trumet Daily Advertisers, " picked up a hintconcerning it. Keziah and Grace, acquainted with the possibilities ofthese volunteer news gatherers, were silent, and the Reverend John, being in some respects a discreet young man with a brand-new ministerialdignity to sustain, refrained from boasting of the sensation he hadcaused. He thought of it very often, usually at most inconvenient times, and when, by all the requirements of his high calling, his thoughtshould have been busy with different and much less worldly matters. 

"I declare!" said Mrs. Thankful Payne, after the new minister's firstcall at her residence, a week after his arrival at Trumet, "if Mr. Ellery ain't the most sympathetic man. I was readin' out loud to himthe poem my cousin Huldy B. --her that married Hannibal Ellis over toDenboro--made up when my second husband was lost to sea, and I'd justgot to the p'int in the ninth verse where it says:

 'The cruel billows crash and roar, And the frail craft is tempest-tossed, But the bold mariner thinks not of life, but says, "It is the fust schooner ever I lost. "'

And 'twas, too, and the last, poor thing! Well, I just got fur as thiswhen I looked up and there was the minister lookin' out of the windowand his face was just as red, and he kept scowlin' and bitin' hislips. I do believe he was all but sheddin' tears. Sympathy like that Iappreciate. "

As a matter of fact, Mr. Ellery had just seen Grace Van Horne pass thatwindow. She had not seen him, but for the moment he was back in thatdisgusting study, making a frenzied toilet in the dusk and obliged tooverhear remarks pointedly personal to himself. 

Grace left the parsonage soon after the supposed tramp disclosedhis identity. Her farewells were hurried and she firmly refused Mrs. Coffin's not too-insistent appeal to return to the house "up street"and have supper. She said she was glad to meet Mr. Ellery. The youngminister affirmed his delight in meeting her. Then she disappeared inthe misty twilight and John Ellery surreptitiously wiped his perspiringforehead with his cuff, having in his late desire for the primalnecessities forgotten such a trifling incidental as a handkerchief. 

"Well, Mr. Ellery, " observed Keziah, turning to her guest, or employer, or incumbrance--at present she was more inclined to consider him thelatter--"well, Mr. Ellery, this has been kind of unexpected for allhands, ain't it? If I'd known you was comin' to-day, I'd have done mybest to have things ready, but Cap'n Elkanah said not before day afterto-morrow and--but there, what's the use of talkin' that way? I didn'tknow I was goin' to keep house for you till this very forenoon. Mercyme, what a day this has been!"

The minister smiled rather one-sidedly. 

"It's been something of a day for me, " he admitted. "I am ahead of timeand I've made a lot of trouble, I'm afraid. But yesterday afternoon Iwas ready and, to tell the truth, I was eager to come and see my newhome and get at my work. So I started on the morning train. Then thestage broke down and I began to think I was stranded at Bayport. But this kind-hearted chap from Wellmouth--I believe that's where helived--happened to pull up to watch us wrestling with the smashed wheel, and when he found I was in a hurry to get to Trumet, offered to give mea lift. His name was--was Bird. No, that wasn't it, but it was somethinglike Bird, or some kind of a bird. "

"Bird?" repeated Keziah thoughtfully. "There's no Birds that I know ofin Wellmouth. Hum! Hey? 'Twa'n't Sparrow, was it?"

"That was it--Sparrow. "

"Good land! Emulous Sparrow. Run consider'ble to whiskers and tongue, didn't he?"

"Why, yes; he did wear a beard. As for tongue--well, he wasconversational, if that's what you mean. "

"That's what I mean. If you rode twelve mile with Emulous, you must havehad an earache for the last six. Did he ask a question or two about yourpersonal affairs, here and there between times?"

Mr. Ellery laughed. 

"Yes, one or two, between times, " he admitted. 

"I shan't die of surprise. Did you tell him who you was?"

"No-o, to be honest, I didn't. He was so very anxious to find out, that--well, I dodged. I think he believed I was going to visit CaptainDaniels. "

"Good enough! If I was governor of this state I wouldn't send anyThanksgivin' proclamations down this way. I'd just write Em Peters andDidama Rogers and a couple more like them and save myself the trouble. They'd have all I wanted to proclaim spread from one end of the countyto the other in less'n a day, and a peck or two of extrys pitched infor good measure. I'm awful glad you didn't tell Emulous you was theminister. You see, Trumet's Trumet, and, considerin' everything, maybeit's just as well nobody knows about your bein' shut up in that study. Not but what 'twas all right, you know, but--"

"I understand. I'm not proud of it. Still, some one may have seen mecome here. "

"No, no, they didn't. This fog is as thick as Injun-meal puddin'. Nobodysaw you. "

"Well, " with some hesitation, "the young lady who was here with you--"

"Oh, Grace Van Horne! She's all right. She won't tell. She ain't thatkind. "

"Van Horne? That doesn't sound like a New England name. "

"'Tisn't. Her folks come from Jersey somewheres. But she was adoptedby old Cap'n Hammond, who keeps the tavern down on the bay shore by thepacket wharf, and she's lived in Trumet since she was six years old. Herfather was Teunis Van Horne, and he was mate on Cap'n Eben's coastin'schooner and was drowned off Hatteras. Eben was saved just by the skinof his teeth and got a broken hip and religion while it happened. Hiship's better except that he's some lame; but his religion's been moreand more feverish ever since. He's one of the head Come-Outers, andbuilt their chapel with his own money. You mustn't think I'm speakin'lightly of religion, nor of Cap'n Eben, either. He's a dear good soul asever was, but he is the narrowest kind of Come-Outer. His creed isjust about as wide as the chapel door, and that's as narrow as the wayleadin' to salvation; it IS the way, too, so the Come-Outers think. "

"What are Come-Outers? Some new sect?"

"Sakes alive! Haven't you heard of Come-Outers? Cat's foot! Well, you'llhear of 'em often enough from now on. They're folks who used to go toour church, the Regular, but left because the services was too worldly, with organs and choir singin', and the road to paradise too easy. Noneed for me to tell you any more. You'll learn. "

Mr. Ellery was interested. He had been in Trumet but once before, on theoccasion when he preached his trial sermon, and of that memorablevisit remembered little except the sermon itself, the pews filledwith captains and their families, and the awe-inspiring personality ofCaptain Elkanah Daniels, who had been his host. To a young man, the inkupon his diploma from the theological school still fresh, a trial sermonis a weighty matter, and the preaching of it weightier still. He hadrehearsed it over and over in private, had delivered it almost throughclinched teeth, and had returned to his room in the Boston boardinghouse with the conviction that it was an utter failure. Captain Elkanahand the gracious Miss Annabel, his daughter, had been kind enough toexpress gratification, and their praise alone saved him from despair. Then, to his amazement, the call had come. Of casual conversation at thechurch and about the Daniels's table he could recall nothing. So therewas another religious organization in town and that made up of secedersfrom his own church. He was surprised. 

"Er--this Miss Van Horne?" he asked. "Is she a--Come-Outer?"

Mrs. Coffin nodded. 

"Yes, " she said. "She's one. Couldn't be anything else and live with herUncle Eben, as she calls him. "

The minister experienced a curious feeling of disappointment andchagrin. This young person, already predisposed to regard a clergyman ofhis denomination with disapproval, had seen him for the first time undermost humiliating circumstances. And he should never have the opportunityto regain her favor, or his own self-respect, by his efforts in thepulpit. No matter how well he might preach she would never hear him. 

"Has this Captain Hammond no children of his own?" he asked. 

Keziah's answer was short for her. 

"Yes, " she said. "One. "

"Ah! another daughter?"

"No, a son. Name's Nathaniel, and he's a sea captain. He's on his wayfrom Surinam to New York now. They expect him to make port most anytime, I believe. Now, Mr. Ellery, I s'pose we've got to arrange for yoursupper and stayin' overnight; and with this house the way 'tis and all, I don't see--"

But the minister was still interested in the Hammond household. 

"This Nathaniel Hammond?" he asked. "You don't seem enthusiastic overhim. Is he a black sheep?"

This reply also was short, but emphatic. 

"No, " said Keziah. "He's a fine man. "

Then she resumed her semisoliloquy concerning her companion'sentertainment. 

"I guess, " she said, "that the best thing for you to do will be to go toCap'n Elkanah's. They'll be real glad to see you, I know, and you'llbe in time for supper, for Elkanah and Annabel have been to Denboro andthey'll be late home. They can keep you overnight, too, for it's a bighouse with lots of rooms. Then, after breakfast to-morrow you come righthere. I'll have things somewhere near shipshape by then, I guess, thoughthe cleanin'll have to be mainly a lick and a promise until I can reallyget at it. Your trunk'll be here on the coach, I s'pose, and that'll bethrough early in the forenoon. Get on your hat and coat and I'll go withyou to Elkanah's. "

The young man demurred a little at thrusting himself upon thehospitality of the Daniels's home, but Keziah assured him that hisunexpected coming would cause no trouble. So he entered the now darkstudy and came out wearing his coat and carrying his hat and valise inhis hand. 

"I'm sure I'm ever so much obliged to you, " he said. "And, as we aregoing to be more or less together--or at least I guess as much from whatyou say--would you mind if I suggest a mutual introduction. I'm JohnEllery; you know that already. And you--"

Keziah stopped short on her way to the door. 

"Well, I declare!" she exclaimed. "If I ain't the very worst! Fact is, you dropped in so ahead of time and in such a irregular sort of way, that I never once thought of introducin' anybody; and I'm sure Gracedidn't. I'm Keziah Coffin, and Cap'n Elkanah and I signed articles, soto speak, this mornin', and I'm goin' to keep house for you. "

She explained the reason upsetting the former arrangement by whichLurania Phelps was to have had the position. 

"So I'm to keep house for you, " she concluded. Adding: "For a spell, anyhow. "

"Why do you say that?" asked the minister. 

"Well, you might not like me. You may be particular, you know. "

"I think I can run that risk. "

"Yes; well, you can't tell. Or I might not like you. You see, I'm prettyparticular myself, " she added with a laugh. 

At the Daniels's door Keziah turned her new charge over to Matilda Snow, the hired girl. It was an indication of the family's social positionthat they kept "hired help. " This was unusual in Trumet in those days, even among the well to do. 

"Good night, " said the young man, extending his hand. "Good night, Miss--or is it Mrs. --Coffin?"

"Mrs. Good night. "

"She's a widow, " explained Matilda. "Husband died 'fore she come backhere to live. Guess he didn't amount to much; she never mentions hisname. "

"There was one thing I meant to tell her, " mused the minister, hesitating on the threshold. "I meant to tell her not to attempt anycleaning up at the parsonage to-night. To-morrow will do just as well. "

"Heavens to Betsy!" sniffed the "hired help, " speaking from the depthsof personal conviction, "nobody but a born fool would clean house in thenight, 'specially after the cleanin' she's been doin' at her own place. I guess you needn't worry. "

So Mr. Ellery did not worry. And yet, until three o'clock of thefollowing morning, the dull light of a whale-oil lantern illuminated therooms of the parsonage as Keziah scrubbed and swept and washed, givingto the musty place the "lick and promise" she had prophesied. If thespiders had prepared those ascension robes, they could have used themthat night. 

After breakfast the wagons belonging to the Wellmouth furniture dealerdrove in at the gate of the little house opposite Captain Elkanah's, andKeziah saw, with a feeling of homesickness which she hid beneath smilesand a rattle of conversation, the worn household treasures which hadbeen hers, and her brother's before her, carried away out of her life. Then her trunks were loaded on the tailboards of the wagons, to be leftat the parsonage, and with a sigh and a quick brush of her hand acrossher eyes, she locked the door for the last time and walked briskly downthe road. Soon afterwards John Ellery, under the eminently respectableescort of Captain Elkanah and Miss Annabel, emerged from the Daniels'sgate and followed her. Mrs. Didama Rogers, thankful for a clearatmosphere and an unobstructed view, saw them pass and recognized thestranger. And, within a quarter of an hour, she, arrayed in a hurriedcalling costume, was spreading the news along the main road. The "TrumetDaily Advertiser" had, so to speak, issued an extra. 

Thus the new minister came to Trumet and thus Keziah Coffin became hishousekeeper. She entered upon her duties with the whole-hearted energypeculiar to her. She was used to hard work, and, as she would have said, felt lonesome without it. She cleaned that parsonage from top to bottom. Every blind was thrown open and the spring sunshine poured in upon thebraided mats and the rag carpets. Dust flew in clouds for the firstday or two, but it flew out of windows and doors and was not allowed tosettle within. The old black walnut furniture glistened with oil. Themirrors and the crockery sparkled from baths of hot water and soap. EvenSt. Stephen, in the engravings on the dining-room wall, was forced to amartyrdom of the fullest publicity, because the spots and smears on theglass covering his sufferings were violently removed. In the sleepingrooms upstairs the feather beds were beaten and aired, the sheets andblankets and patchwork comforters exposed to the light, and the windowcurtains dragged down and left to flap on the clothesline. The smell ofmusty dampness disappeared from the dining room and the wholesome odorsof outdoors and of good things cooking took its place. 

Keziah, in the midst of her labors, found time to coach her employerand companion in Trumet ways, and particularly in the ways which Trumetexpected its clergymen to travel. On the morning following his firstnight in the parsonage, he expressed himself as feeling the need ofexercise. He thought he should take a walk. 

"Well, " said his housekeeper from her station opposite him at thebreakfast table, "if I was you I wouldn't take too long a one. You'dbetter be back here by ten, anyhow. Where was you thinkin' of goin'?"

Mr. Ellery had no particular destination in mind. He would like to seesomething of the village and, perhaps, if she could give him the namesof a few of his parishioners, he might make a few calls. Keziah shookher head. 

"Gracious goodness!" she exclaimed. "I wouldn't advise you to do that. You ain't been here long enough to make forenoon calls. If you shouldcatch some of the women in this town with aprons and calico on, they'dnever forgive you in this world. Wait till afternoon; they'll beexpectin' you then and they'll be rigged out in their best bibs andtuckers. S'pose you found Annabel Daniels with her hair done up incurl papers; what do you think would happen? Mornin's are no timefor ministers' calls. Even old Mr. Langley never made calls in theforenoon--and he'd been here thirty-odd years. "

"All right, you know best. Much obliged for the advice. Then I'll simplytake my walk and leave the calls until later. "

"I'd be back by ten, though. Folks'll begin callin' on you by thattime. "

"They will? Doesn't the rule work both ways?"

"Not with new ministers it don't. Cat's foot! You don't s'pose DidamaRogers and Laviny Pepper and their kind'll wait any longer'n they canhelp afore they come to see what you look like, do you?"

"Well, they must have seen me when I preached here before. I remember--"

"Mercy on us! that was in meetin'. Meetin's diff'rent. All they couldsay to you then was how much they liked your sermon. They say that toevery minister that comes, no matter how they may pick him to piecesafterwards. But here they can ask you questions; about how you came tocome here and what you think of it far's you've got, and what your viewsare on certain points in the creed. Likewise, who your folks were andwhether they was well off, and a few things like that. Then they'll wantto see what kind of clothes you wear and--"

"Whew!" Ellery whistled. "You're unfolding a pleasant prospect for me, Imust say. Am I supposed to be catechized on all of my private affairs?"

"Of course! A minister hasn't got any private affairs; he's a publiccharacter. There!" she laughed, as she poured the coffee, "I mustn'tdiscourage you. But don't you see that every mother's son--and, for thatmatter, every daughter and children's child unto the third and fourthgeneration--feel that, so long as they pay pew rent or put a cent in thecollection, they own a share in you. And we always keep a watch on ourinvestments down this way. That's the Yankee shrewdness you read so muchabout, I guess. "

The minister absently played with his spoon. 

"I'm afraid you're a cynic, " he said. 

"No, no, I ain't. Though sometimes, considerin' everything, I feel asthough I had excuse enough if I wanted to belong to that tribe. Butyou're young. You mustn't mind my sayin' that; if you was old, ofcourse, I wouldn't talk about ages. But you are young and this is yourfirst church. So you must start right. I'm no cynic, bless you. I've gottrust in human nature left--most kinds of human nature. If I hadn't, I'dhave more money, I s'pose. Perhaps you've noticed that those who trust agood deal are usually poor. It's all right, Mr. Ellery; you go and takeyour walk. And I'll walk into that pantry closet. It'll be a good deallike walkin' into the Slough of Despond, but Christian came out on theother side and I guess likely I will, if the supply of soapsuds holdsout. "

When, promptly at ten o'clock, the minister returned from his walk, he found Mrs. Rogers waiting in the sitting room. It is a primequalification of an alert reporter to be first on the scene ofsensation. Didama was seldom beaten. Mr. Ellery's catechism began. Before it was over Keziah opened the door to admit Miss Pepper andher brother. "Kyan" was nervous and embarrassed in the housekeeper'spresence. Lavinia was a glacier, moving majestically and freezing as itmoved. Keziah, however, was not even touched by the frost; she greetedthe pair cordially, and begged them to "take off their things. "

It was dinner time before the catechizers departed. The catechized cameto the table with an impaired appetite. He looked troubled. 

"Don't let it worry you, Mr. Ellery, " observed Keziah calmly. "I thinkI can satisfy you. Honest and true, I ain't half as bad as you mightthink. "

The minister looked more troubled than before; also surprised. 

"Why, Mrs. Coffin!" he cried. "Could you hear--"

"No, no! I couldn't hear nothin' in that closet except my own opinionon dirt and dust. But if I was as deaf as the man that set on thepowder keg and dropped his pipe ashes into it, it wouldn't have made anydifference. The man said after they picked him up that they needn't havebeen so rough, he'd have moved without bein' pushed if they'd have madesigns they wanted to use the keg. And if I was out in the next lot I'dhave known what you was listenin' to in that sittin' room. They hintedthat they were real sorry for you, but 'twasn't any of THEIR doin's. Theparish committee, bein' just men, was apt to make mistakes in certainmatters. Of course everything MIGHT be well enough, and if you wa'n'tTOO particular about cookin' and so on, why--Anyhow, you mustn't thinkthat THEY were criticisin'. 'Twas only that they took an interestand--That was about it, wasn't it?"

"Mrs. Coffin, I--I hope you don't think I paid any attention to theirremarks--of that kind, I mean. Honestly, I did my best to stop them. Isaid--"

"Man alive! I'm not worried. Why should you be? We were talkin' abouttrust just now--or I was. Well, you and I'll have to take each other ontrust for a while, until we see whether we're goin' to suit. If you seeanything that I'm goin' wrong in, I wish you'd tell me. And I'll do thesame by you, if that's agreeable. You'll hear a lot of things said aboutme, but if they're very bad I give you my word they ain't true. And, tobe real frank, I'll probably hear some about you, which I'll take forwhat they're worth and considerin' who said 'em. That's a good wholesomeagreement, I think, for both of us. What do you think?"

John Ellery said, with emphasis, that he thought well of it. He began torealize that this woman, with her blunt common sense, was likely to bea pilot worth having in the difficult waters which he must navigate asskipper of the Regular church in Trumet. Also, he began to realize that, as such a skipper, he was most inexperienced. And Captain Danielshad spoken highly--condescendingly but highly--of his housekeeper'squalifications and personality. So the agreement was ratified, withrelief on his part. 

The first Sunday came and with it the first sermon. He read that sermonto Keziah on Saturday evening and she approved of it as a whole, thoughshe criticised some of its details. 

"Don't be afraid to put in plenty of salt, " she said. "Where you'vegot the Christian life and spirit written down as bein' like a quiet, peaceful home, free from all distrust, and like that, why don't youchange it to a good safe anchorage, where the soul can ride foreverwithout fear of breakers or no'theasters or the dangers besettin' themariner on a lee shore. They'll understand that; it gets right home to'em. There's scarcely a man or a woman in your congregation that ain'tbeen out of sight of land for weeks on a stretch. "

The breakfast hour on Sunday would be at nine o'clock, instead of seven, as on week days, she told him. 

"Trumet lays to bed Sunday mornin's, " she explained. "It's almost a partof its religion, as you might say, and lived up to more conscientiousthan some other parts, I'm afraid. Six days shalt thou labor and wearcomfort'ble clothes; and on the seventh you must be lazy and dress up. Likewise you must have baked beans Saturday for supper, as we're havin''em, and more beans with fish balls next mornin'. That is, if you wantto be orthodox. "

The service began at eleven o'clock. At half past ten the sexton, old Mr. Jubal Knowles, rang the "first bell, " a clanging five-minutereminder. Twenty minutes later he began on the second and final call. Mr. Ellery was ready--and nervous--before the first bell had finishedringing. But Keziah, entering the sitting room dressed in black alpacaand carrying the hymn book with her name in gilt letters on the cover, forbade his leaving the parsonage thus early. 

"I shall go pretty soon, " she said, "but you mustn't. The minister ain'texpected until the last bell's 'most done. Parson Langley used to waituntil the Winslows went in. Gaius Winslow is a widower man who lives upto the west end of the town and he's got nine children, all boys. You'llknow 'em because they always drive down to meetin' in one carryall witha white horse. Gaius is as punctual as a boardin'-house dinner. Theold parson used to wait until the last Winslow had toddled up themeetin'-house steps and then he'd come out of this side door withhis sermon in his hand. It's a pretty good rule to remember and saveswatchin' the clock. Besides, it's what we've been used to, and that goesa good ways with some folks. Good-by, Mr. Ellery. You'll see me in thethird pew from the back, on the right side, wishin' you luck just ashard as I can. "

So, as in couples or family groups, afoot or in all sorts of vehicles, the members of Trumet's Regular society came to the church to hear theirnew minister, that functionary peeped under the parlor window shade ofthe parsonage and waited, fidgetting and apprehensive, for theWinslows. They arrived at last, and were not hard to recognize, for tenindividuals packed into one carriage are hard to overlook anywhere. AsGaius, with the youngest in his arms, passed in at the church door, JohnEllery passed out of the parsonage gate. The last bell clanged its finalstroke, the vibrations ceased, the rustle of skirts and the sounds ofdecorous coughing subsided and were succeeded by the dry rattle of thehymn-book pages, the organ, presented by Captain Elkanah and played byhis daughter, uttered its preliminary groan, the service began. 

Outside the spring breeze stirred the budding silver-leafs, the distantbreakers grumbled, the crows in the pines near Captain Eben Hammond'stavern cawed ribald answers to the screaming gulls perched along the topof the breakwater. And seated on one of the hard benches of the littleCome-Outer chapel, Grace Van Horne heard her "Uncle Eben, " who, asusual, was conducting the meeting, speak of "them who, in purple andfine linen, with organs and trumpets and vain shows, are gatheredelsewhere in this community to hear a hired priest make a mock of thegospel. " (A-MEN!)

But John Ellery, the "hired priest, " knew nothing of this. He did know, however, that he was the center of interest for his own congregation, the people among whom he had been called to labor. Their praise orcriticism meant everything to him; therefore he preached for dear life. 

And Keziah Coffin, in the third pew from the back, watched him intently, her mind working in sympathetic unison with his. She was not one tobe greatly influenced by first impressions, but she had been favorablyimpressed by this young fellow, and had already begun to feel that senseof guardianship and personal responsibility which, later on, was to makeCaptain Zebedee Mayo nickname the minister "Keziah's Parson. "

The sermon was a success. 

CHAPTER IV

IN WHICH KEZIAH'S PARSON DECIDES TO RUN IT BLINDFOLD

On Monday afternoon the minister made a few calls. Keziah made out ashort list for him to follow, a "sort of chart of the main channel, " shecalled it, "with the safe ports marked and the shoals and risky placeslabeled dangerous. "

"You see, " she said, "Trumet ain't a course you can navigate with youreyes shut. We divide ourselves into about four sets--aristocrats, poorrelations, town folks, and scum. The aristocrats are the big bugs likeCap'n Elkanah and the other well-off sea captains, afloat or ashore. They 'most all go to the Regular church and the parish committee issteered by 'em. The poor relations are mainly widows and such, whosehusbands died or were lost at sea. Most of them are Regulars. The townfolks are those that stay ashore and keep store or run salt works orsomethin'. And the scum work around on odd jobs or go fishin'. So, ifyou really want to be safe, you must call on the aristocrats first, after that on the poor relations, and so on down. You won't be botheredwith scum much; they're mainly Come-Outers. "

Ellery took the list from her hand and looked it over. 

"Hum!" he said musingly. "Am I supposed to recognize these--er--classdistinctions?"

"Yes. That is, not in meetin' or sewin' circle or anything like that, ornot out and out and open anywhere. But you want to cultivate a sort ofdifferent handshake and how-dy-do for each set, so's to speak. Gush allyou want to over an aristocrat. Be thankful for advice and always SOglad to see 'em. With the poor relations you can ease up on the gush andmaybe condescend some. Town folks expect condescension and superiority;give it to 'em. When it comes to scum, why--well, any short kind of abow and a 'Mornin' 'll do for them. 'Course the Lord, in His infinitemercy, made 'em, same as He did potato bugs, but it's necessary to keepboth bugs and them down to their proper place. "

She delivered this in the intervals between trips to the kitchen withthe dinner dishes. The minister listened with a troubled expression onhis face. 

"Mrs. Coffin, " he said, "I guess I'm dull. There was a Scotch professorat college and the fellows used to say his bump of humor was a dent. Maybe mine isn't much better. Are you joking?"

Keziah stacked the cups and saucers. 

"I ain't jokin', " she declared. "I've been a poor relation in thisvillage for a good while and my brother was a shoemaker and on the upperfringe of the town-folk class. My humor bump would have to stick up likeCannon Hill afore I could see any joke in that. "

"But you're not seriously advising me to treat a rich man differentlyfrom a poor one?"

"Not openly different--no. But if you want to steer a perfectly SAFEcourse, one that'll keep deep water under your keel the whole voyage, why, there's your chart. "

Mr. Ellery promptly tore the "chart" into small pieces. 

"I'm going out, " he said. "I shall be back by supper time. "

Mrs. Coffin eyed him grimly. 

"Goin' to run it blindfold, are you?" she asked. 

"Yes, I am. "

Her grimness disappeared and she smiled. 

"I'll have your supper ready for you, " she said. "Bring back a goodappetite. "

The young man hesitated on the threshold. 

"Mrs. Coffin, " he demanded, "would YOU have called only on thearistocrats at first?"

She shook her head, smiling still. 

"No, " she replied, "not me. I've always taken risks. But I didn'tknow but you might be a safe sailor. It saves a lot of trouble in thisworld. "

"How about the next?"

"Oh, well, perhaps even the scum may count for somethin' over there. "She turned to face him and her smile vanished. "Go on, Mr. Ellery, " shesaid. "Go and call where you please. Far be it from me that I shouldtell you to do anything else. I suppose likely you hope some day to bea great preacher. I hope you will. But I'd enough sight rather you was agood man than the very greatest. No reason why you can't be both. Therewas a preacher over in Galilee once, so you told us yesterday, who wasjust good. 'Twa'n't till years afterwards that the crowd came to realizethat he was great, too. And, if I recollect right, he chummed in withpublicans and sinners. I'm glad you tore up that fool paper of mine. Ihoped you might when I gave it to you. Now you run along, and I'll washdishes. If cleanliness is next to godliness, then a parson ought to eatout of clean plates. "

As a matter of fact, the minister's calls were in the nature of acompromise, although an unintentional one. He dropped in on ZebedeeMayo, owner of the big house on the slope of the hill. Captain Zeb tookhim up into what he called his "cupoler, " the observatory on the top ofthe house, and showed him Trumet spread out like a map. The main roadwas north and south, winding and twisting its rutted, sandy way. Alongit were clustered the principal houses and shops, shaded by silver-leafpoplars, a few elms, and some willows and spruces. Each tree bentslightly away from the northeast, the direction from which blew theheavy winter gales. Beyond the main road were green slopes and pastures, with swamps in the hollows, swamps which were to be cranberry bogs inthe days to come. Then the lower road, with more houses, and, fartheron, the beach, the flats--partially uncovered because it was hightide--and the bay. 

Behind the Mayo house was the crest of Cannon Hill, more hills, pasturesand swamps, scattered houses and pine groves. Then began the tumbled, humped waste of sand dunes, and, over their ragged fringes of beach plumand bayberry bushes, the deep blue of the wide Atlantic. The lighthousewas a white dot and the fish shanties a blotch of brown. Along the inneredge of the blue were scars of dancing white, the flashing teeth ofhungry shoals which had torn to pieces and swallowed many a good ship. And, far out, dotted and sprinkled along the horizon, were sails. 

"See?" said Captain Zeb, puffing still from the exertion of climbingthe ladder to the "cupoler, " for he was distinctly "fleshy. " "See? Thebeacon's up. Packet come in this mornin'. There she is. See her downthere by the breakwater?"

Sure enough, the empty barrel, painted red, was hoisted to the top ofits pole on the crest of Cannon Hill. And, looking down at the bay andfollowing the direction of the stubby pointing finger, Ellery saw alittle schooner, with her sails lowered, lying, slightly on her side, in a shallow pool near a long ridge of piled stones--the breakwater. Asmall wharf made out from the shore and black figures moved briskly uponit. Carts were alongside the schooner and there more dots were busy. 

"Eben's pennant's flyin', " said Captain Zeb. "He always sets colorswhen the packet's in. Keeps packet tavern, Eben does. That's it, thatold-fashioned, gambrel-roofed house on the rise by the wharf. Call it'Saints' Rest, ' they do now, 'cause Eben's so mighty religious. "

The minister saw the long, rambling house, with one lonely, twisted treein its yard, a flag flying from a pole beside it. So that was wherethe Hammonds lived. And where the girl lived who was certain he was a"conceited snippet. " Whatever he might be in reality he hoped it was notthat. "Snippet" was not in his dictionary, but he didn't like the soundof it. 

"Who owns the packet?" he asked, to make conversation. 

"Zach Foster. Married Freewill Doane's daughter over to Harniss. She'sdead now. "

"A good sailor, is he?"

Captain Zeb spat in supreme disgust. 

"Good farmer!" he snorted. "Zach took over the packet for a debt whenthe chap that used to run her died. His dad, old man Foster, raisedgarden truck at the same time mine went to sea. Both of us took afterour fathers, I guess. Anyhow, my wife says that when I die 'twill be ofsalt water on the brain, and I'm sure Zach's head is part cabbage. Beenbetter for him if he'd stuck to his garden. However, I s'pose he doeshis best. "

"They say angels can do no more. "

"Um-m. Well, Zach'll be an angel pretty soon if he keeps on cruisin'with that old hooker as she is. 'Bijah Perry, he's mate and the onlygood seaman aboard, tells me that most of the riggin's rotten and themain topmast ain't sound, by a good deal. The old man's put off havin'her overhauled for two reasons, one that repairs cost money, and t'otherthat puttin' off is the main sheet of his gospel. When there's no rainthe roof don't leak and long's it don't blow too hard 'most any kind ofgear'll hold. That's philosophy--cabbage philosophy. "

Ellery decided that he should like Captain Zeb, although it was evidentthat the old whaler had decided opinions of his own which he did nothesitate to express. He judged that the Mayos were of the so-calledaristocracy, but undoubtedly unique specimens. He visited four morehouseholds that afternoon. The last call was at Mrs. Thankful Payne's, and while there, listening to the wonderful "poem, " he saw Miss VanHorne pass the window, as has already been told. He came home to a CapeCod supper of scalloped clams, hot biscuits, and baked Indian pudding, and Keziah greeted him with a cheery smile which made him feel that itWAS home. His summary disposal of the "chart" had evidently raised himin his housekeeper's estimation. She did not ask a single question as towhere he had been. 

Next day he had a taste of Trumet's real aristocracy, the genuinearticle. Captain Elkanah Daniels and his daughter made their firstformal call. The captain was majestic in high hat, fur-collared cape, tailed coat, and carrying a gold-headed cane. Miss Annabel wore hernewest gown and bonnet and rustled as she walked. They entered thesitting room and the lady glanced superciliously about the apartment. 

"Hum--ha!" barked Captain Elkanah. "Ahem! Mr. Ellery, I trust you'rebeing made comfortable. The parish committee are--hum--ah--anxious thatyou should be. Yes?"

The minister said that he was very comfortable indeed. 

"It isn't what you've been used to, we know, " observed Miss Annabel. "Mr. Langley, our former pastor, was a sweet old gentleman, but he wasold-fashioned and his tastes were queer, especially in art. Have younoticed that 'fruit piece' in the dining room? Isn't it too ridiculous?"

Ellery admitted that the fruit piece was rather funny; but no doubt ithad been a gift and so

--"Yes, indeed. I guess it was a present, fast enough. Nobody would buysuch a thing. It seems strange to pa and me that, although so many ofour people have been abroad, they have such strange ideas of art. Do youremember the beautiful marbles in the palaces at Florence, Mr. Ellery?Of course you've seen them?"

The minister was obliged to admit that he had never been abroad. 

"Oh, is that so? I've been so many times with pa that it seems almostas if everybody was as familiar with Yurrup as I am. You remember what Isaid about the marbles, pa?"

Her parent nodded. 

"Hum--ha! Oh, yes, yes, " he said. "That was when I was in thefruit-carrying trade and made a voyage to Valenchy. "

"Valencia, pa, " corrected Annabel. "And Valencia is in Spain. "

"I know it. But we went to Leghorn afterwards. I sailed to Cronstadt forsome years regular. Cronstadt is in Rooshy, Mr. Ellery. "

"Russia, pa, " snapped his daughter. Then she changed the subject tochurch and parish affairs. They spoke of the sewing circle and thereading society and the Friday-evening meetings. 

"The Come-Outers are so vexed with us, " tittered Miss Annabel, "thatthey won't even hold prayer meeting on the same night as ours. They havetheirs on Thursday nights and it's as good as a play to hear them shoutand sing and carry on. You'll enjoy the Come-Outers, Mr. Ellery. They'rea perfect delight. "

And as they rose to go Captain Elkanah asked:

"Is there anything you'd like done about the parsonage, Mr. Ellery?If so, it shall be done immejitly. How are you satisfied with yourhousekeeper?"

"Very well, indeed, Captain Daniels, " was the prompt reply. 

"She's a character, isn't she?" giggled Annabel. "She was born herein Trumet, but went away to New Bedford when she was young and grew upthere. Her maiden name was Hall, but while she was away she married aman named Ansel Coffin. They didn't live together very long and weren'thappy, I guess. I don't know whose fault it was, nobody knows muchof anything about it, for that's the one thing she won't talk about. Anyhow, the Coffin man was lost to sea, and after a while she came backto keep house for her brother Solomon. She's an awful odd stick, butshe's a good cook, I believe; though I'm afraid you won't get the mealspeople such as ourselves, who've been so much in the city, are used to. "

Ellery thought of the meals at his city boarding house and shuddered. Hewas an orphan and had boarded for years. Incidentally, he had worked hisway through college. Captain Elkanah cleared his throat. 

"Keziah, " he commanded. "Hum--ha! Keziah, come in here a minute. "

Keziah came in response to the call, her sewing in her hand. Therenovation of the parsonage had so far progressed that she could nowfind time for a little sewing, after the dinner dishes were done. 

"Keziah, " said the captain pompously, "we expect you to look out for Mr. Ellery in every respect. The parish committee expects that--yes. "

"I'll try, " said Mrs. Coffin shortly. 

"Yes. Well, that's all. You can go. We must be going, too, Mr. Ellery. Please consider our house at your disposal any time. Beneighborly--hum--ha!--be neighborly. "

"Yes, " purred Annabel. "DO come and see us often. Congenial society isvery scarce in Trumet, for me especially. We can read together. Are youfond of Moore, Mr. Ellery? I just dote on him. "

The last "hum--ha" was partially drowned by the click of the gate. Keziah closed the dining-room door. 

"Mrs. Coffin, " said the minister, "I shan't trouble the parishcommittee. Be sure of that. I'm perfectly satisfied. "

Keziah sat down in the rocker and her needle moved very briskly for amoment. Then she said, without looking up:

"That's good. I own up I like to hear you say it. And I am glad thereare some things I do like about this new place of mine. Because--well, because there's likely to be others that I shan't like at all. "

On Friday evening the minister conducted his first prayer meeting. Before it, and afterwards, he heard a good deal concerning theCome-Outers. He learned that Captain Eben Hammond had preached againsthim in the chapel on Sunday. Most of his own parishioners seemed tothink it a good joke. 

"Stir 'em up, Mr. Ellery, " counseled Lavinia Pepper. "Stir 'em up! Don'tbe afraid to answer em from the pulpit and set 'em where they belong. Ignorant, bigoted things!"

Others gave similar counsel. The result was that the young man becamestill more interested in these people who seemed to hate him and all hestood for so profoundly. He wished he might hear their side of the caseand judge it for himself. It may as well be acknowledged now that JohnEllery had a habit of wishing to judge for himself. This is not always apolitic habit in a country minister. 

The sun of the following Thursday morning rose behind a curtain of fogas dense as that of the day upon which Ellery arrived. A flat calm inthe forenoon, the wind changed about three o'clock and, beginning witha sharp and sudden squall from the northwest, blew hard and steady. Yetthe fog still cloaked everything and refused to be blown away. 

"There's rain astern, " observed Captain Zeb, with the air of authoritywhich belongs to seafaring men when speaking of the weather. "We'll geta hard, driving rain afore mornin', you see. Then, if she still holdsfrom the northwest'ard, it'll fair off fine. "

"Goin' out in this, Mr. Ellery!" exclaimed Keziah, in amazement, as theminister put on his hat and coat about seven that evening. "Sakes alive!you won't be able to see the way to the gate. It's as dark as a nigger'spocket and thicker than young ones in a poor man's family, as my fatherused to say. You'll be wet through. Where in the world are you bound forTHIS night?"

The minister equivocated. He said he had been in the house all day andfelt like a walk. 

"Well, take an umbrella, then, " was the housekeeper's advice. "You'llneed it before you get back, I cal'late. "

It was dark enough and thick enough, in all conscience. The main roadwas a black, wet void, through which gleams from lighted windows werebut vague, yellow blotches. The umbrella was useful in the same waythat a blind man's cane is useful, in feeling the way. The two orthree stragglers who met the minister carried lanterns. One of thesestragglers was Mr. Pepper. Kyan was astonished. 

"Well, I snum!" cried Kyan, raising the lantern. "If 'tain't Mr. Ellery. Where you bound this kind of night?"

Before the minister could answer, a stately figure appeared and joinedthe pair. Lavinia, of course. 

"Well, Mr. Ellery, " she said. "Ain't you lost, out in this fog? Anybodysick?"

No, no one was sick. 

"That's a mercy. Goin' callin', be you?"

"No. "

"Hum! Queer weather for a walk, I call it. Won't be many out to-night, except Come-Outers goin' to holler their lungs loose at prayer meetin'. He, he! You ain't turned Come-Outer, have you, Mr. Ellery? You've headedright for the chapel. "

Ellery's reply was hurried and a bit confused. He said good night andwent on. 

"Laviny, " whispered the shocked Kyan, "do you think that wasa--er--polite thing to say to a parson? That about his turnin'Come-Outer? He didn't make much answer, seemed to me. You don't think hewas mad, do ye?"

"I don't care if he was, " snorted Miss Pepper. "He could tell a bodywhere he was goin' then. Nobody can snub me, minister or not. I thinkhe's kind of stuck-up, if you want to know, and if he is, he'll get tookdown in a hurry. Come along, don't stand there with your mouth open likea flytrap. I'd like to know what he was up to. I've a precious good mindto follow him; would if 'twa'n't so much trouble. "

She didn't. Yet, if she had, she would have deemed the trouble worthwhile. For John Ellery stumbled on through the mist till he reached the"Corners" where the store was located and the roads forked. There, heturned to the right, into the way called locally "Hammond's Turn-off. "A short distance down the "Turn-off" stood a small, brown-shingledbuilding, its windows alight. Opposite its door, on the other side ofthe road, grew a spreading hornbeam tree surrounded by a cluster ofswamp blackberry bushes. In the black shadow of the hornbeam Mr. Ellerystood still. He was debating in his mind a question: should he or shouldhe not enter that building?

As he stood there, groups of people emerged from the fog and darknessand passed in at the door. Some of them he had seen during his fortnightin Trumet. Others were strangers to him. A lantern danced and wabbled upthe "Turn-off" from the direction of the bay shore and the packet wharf. It drew near, and he saw that it was carried by an old man with longwhite hair and chin beard, who walked with a slight limp. Beside him wasa thin woman wearing a black poke bonnet and a shawl. In the rear ofthe pair came another woman, a young woman, judging by the way she wasdressed and her lithe, vigorous step. The trio halted on the platform ofthe building. The old man blew out the lantern. Then he threw the dooropen and a stream of yellow light poured over the group. 

The young woman was Grace Van Horne. The minister recognized her atonce. Undoubtedly, the old man with the limp was her guardian, CaptainEben Hammond, who, by common report, had spoken of him, Ellery, as a"hired priest. "

The door closed. A few moments thereafter the sound of a squeakymelodeon came from within the building. It wailed and quavered andgroaned. Then, with a suddenness that was startling, came the firstverse of a hymn, sung with tremendous enthusiasm:

 "Oh, who shall answer when the Lord shall call His ransomed sinners home?"

The hallelujah chorus was still ringing when the watcher across thestreet stepped out from the shadow of the hornbeam. Without a pause hestrode over to the platform. Another moment and the door had shut behindhim. 

The minister of the Trumet Regular church had entered the Come-Outerchapel to attend a Come-Outer prayer meeting!

CHAPTER V

IN WHICH THE PARSON CRUISES IN STRANGE WATERS

The Come-Outer chapel was as bare inside, almost, as it was without. Bare wooden walls, a beamed ceiling, a raised platform at one end witha table and chairs and the melodeon upon it, rows of wooden settees forthe congregation--that was all. As the minister entered, the worshiperswere standing up to sing. Three or four sputtering oil lamps but dimlyillumined the place and made recognition uncertain. 

The second verse of the hymn was just beginning as Ellery came in. Mostof the forty or more grown people in the chapel were too busy wrestlingwith the tune to turn and look at him. A child here and there in theback row twisted a curious neck but twisted back again as parentalfingers tugged at its ear. The minister tiptoed to a dark corner andtook his stand in front of a vacant settee. 

The man whom Ellery had decided must be Captain Eben Hammond wasstanding on the low platform beside the table. A quaint figure, patriarchal with its flowing white hair and beard, puritanical with itsset, smooth-shaven lips and tufted brows. Captain Eben held an open hymnbook back in one hand and beat time with the other. He wore brass-bowedspectacles well down toward the tip of his nose. Swinging a heavy, stubby finger and singing in a high, quavering voice of no particularregister, he led off the third verse:

 "Oh, who shall weep when the roll is called And who shall shout for joy?"

The melodeon and the hymn book were in accord as to the tune, butCaptain Eben and the various members of the congregation seemed to havea desire to improvise. They sang with spirit, however, and the rhythmicpat of feet grew louder and louder. Here and there men and women wereswaying and rocking their bodies in time to the music. The chorus foreach verse was louder than the one preceding it. 

Another hymn was given out and sung. And another and still another. Thewindows rattled. The patting grew to a steady "thump! thump!" Momentarypauses between lines were punctuated by hallelujahs and amens. Standingdirectly in front of the minister was a six-foot, raw-boned individualwhose clothes smelled strongly of fish, and whose hands, each swungat the end of an exposed five inches of hairy red wrist, looked likeflippers. At the end of the third hymn this personage sprang straight upinto the air, cracked the heels of a pair of red cowhide boots together, and whooped: "Glory be! Send the PAOWER!" in a voice like the screechof a northeast gale. Mr. Ellery, whom this gymnastic feat had taken bysurprise, jumped in sympathy, although not as high. 

The singing over, the worshipers sat down. Captain Eben took afigured handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. The thin, nearsighted young woman who had been humped over the keyboard of themelodeon, straightened up. The worshipers relaxed a little and began tolook about. 

Then the captain adjusted his spectacles and opened a Bible, which hetook from the table beside him. Clearing his throat, he announced thathe would read from the Word, tenth chapter of Jeremiah:

"'Thus saith the Lord. Learn not the way of the heathen, and be notdismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them. 

"'For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out ofthe forest, the work of the hands of the workmen, with the ax. '"

He read in a measured singsong, stopping occasionally to hold the bookin a better light and peering at the fine print through his spectacles. And as he read, there was a sudden rustle on one of the back benches. Achild had turned, stared, and pulled at its mother's sleeve. The rustlegrew and spread. 

Captain Eben drawled on to the twentieth verse:

"'My tabernacle is spoiled and all my cords are broken: my children aregone forth from me, and they are not: there is none to stretch forth mytent any more, and to set up my curtains!

"'For the pastors are become brutish and have not sought the Lord:therefore they shall not prosper, and--'"

"A-MEN!"

The shout came from the second bench from the front, where EzekielBassett, clam digger and fervent religionist, was always to be found onmeeting nights. Ezekiel was the father of Susannah B. Bassett, "SukeyB. " for short, who played the melodeon. He had been, by successiveseizures, a Seventh Day Baptist, a Second Adventist, a Millerite, aRegular, and was now the most energetic of Come-Outers. Later he was tobecome a Spiritualist and preside at table-tipping seances. 

Ezekiel's amen was so sudden and emphatic that it startled the readerinto looking up. Instead of the faces of his congregation, he foundhimself treated to a view of their back hair. Nearly every headwas turned toward the rear corner of the room, there was a buzz ofwhispering and, in front, many men and women were standing up to look. Captain Eben was scandalized. 

"Well!" he exclaimed. "Is this a prayer meetin' or--or--what? Brethrenand sisters, I must say--"

Ezekiel Bassett stepped forward and whispered in his ear. Thecaptain's expression of righteous indignation changed to one of blankastonishment. He, too, gazed at the dark corner. Then his lips tightenedand he rapped smartly on the table. 

"Brethren and sisters, " he thundered, in the voice which, of old, hadenforced obedience aboard his coasting schooner, "remember this is thehouse of the Lord. Be reverent!"

He waited until every eye had swung about to meet his. Then he regardedhis abashed but excited hearers with a steady and prolonged stare. 

"My friends, " he said, "let us bow in prayer. "

John Ellery could have repeated that prayer, almost word for word, yearsafter that night. The captain prayed for the few here gathered together:Let them be steadfast. Let them be constant in the way. The path theywere treading might be narrow and beset with thorns, but it was the pathleading to glory. 

"Scoffers may sneer, " he declared, his voice rising; "they may make amock of us, they may even come into Thy presence to laugh at us, buttheirs is the laugh that turns to groanin'. O Lord, strengthen usto-night to speak what's in our hearts, without fear. " ("A-men!") "Toprophesy in Thy name! To bid the mockers and them that dare--dare toprofane this sanctuary be careful. Hired singers and trumpets and vainshows we have not" ("Thank the Lord! Amen!"), "but the true faith andthe joy of it we do have. " ("Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Glory!")

And so on, his remarks becoming more personal and ever pointing likea compass needle to the occupant of that seat in the corner. Theminister's determination to attend a Come-Outer meeting, though it hadreached the sticking point only a half hour before, was the result ofconsiderable deliberation. He had argued with himself and had made uphis mind to find out for himself just what these people did. He wasfinding out, certainly. His motives were good and he had come with nodesire to scoff, but, for the life of him, he could not help feelinglike a criminal. Incidentally, it provoked him to feel that way. 

"O Lord, " prayed Captain Hammond, the perspiration in beads on hisforehead, "Thou hast said that the pastors become brutish and have notsought Thee and that they shan't prosper. Help us tonight to labor withthis one that he may see his error and repent in sackcloth and ashes. "

They sang once more, a hymn that prophesied woe to the unbeliever. Then Ezekiel Bassett rose to "testify. " The testimony was mainly to theeffect that he was happy because he had fled to the ark of safety whilethere was yet time. 

"I found out, " he shouted, "that fancy music and--ah--and--ah--sotsermons and fine duds and suchlike wa'n't goin' to do ME no good. I needed somethin' else. I needed good times in my religion"("Hallelujah!") "and I've found 'em right here. Yes, sir! right here. And I say this out loud, " turning to glare at the intruder, "and I don'tcare who comes to poke fun at me for sayin' it. " ("Amen!")

A sharp-nosed female followed Mr. Bassett. She spoke with evidentfeeling and in a voice that trembled and shook when her emotion carriedit aloft. SHE'D had enough of high-toned religion. Yes, and of them thatupheld it. When her brother Simeon was took bad with phthisic, "wheezin'like a busted bellerses" and 'twas "up and down, trot, trot, trot, " tofetch and carry for him day in and night out, did the folks from theReg'lar church help her? She guessed NOT. The only one that came nighher was Laviny Pepper, and she came only to gas and gabble and find outthings that wa'n't none of her business. What help she got was froma Come-Outer, from Eben Hammond, bless his good soul! ("Amen!") Thatphthisic settled her for Reg'larism. Yes, and for them that preached it, too. So there!

Captain Eben called for more testimony. But the testifiers were, to usethe old minstrel joke, backward in coming forward that evening. At anordinary meeting, by this time, the shouts and enthusiasm would havebeen at their height and half a dozen Come-Outers on their feet at once, relating their experiences and proclaiming their happiness. But tonightthere was a damper; the presence of the leader of the opposition cast ashadow over the gathering. Only the bravest attempted speech. The otherssat silent, showing their resentment and contempt by frowning glancesover their shoulders and portentous nods one to the other. 

"Come, brethren, " commanded the captain sharply; "we are waitin' to hearyou. Are you afraid? If your faith is real, nothin' nor nobody shouldkeep you from cryin' it out loud. Now, if ever, is the accepted time. Speak up for the spirit that's in you. "

An elderly man, grave and quiet, arose and said a few words, dignifiedand solemn words of prayer and thankfulness for the comfort this littlesociety of true believers had been to him. Ellery realized that herewas another sort of Come-Outer, one of the Hammond type. Evidently, theywere not all like Ezekiel and the shrill-voiced woman. 

Then, from the settee in front of him, rose the lengthy and fishy personwith the cowhide boots and enormous hands. His name was Josiah Badgerand he was, according to Trumet's estimate, "a little mite lackin' inhis top riggin'. " He stuttered, and this infirmity became more and moreapparent as he grew eloquent. 

"I--I ain't afraid, " he proclaimed. "They can call me a C-C-Come-Outerall they want to. I--I don't care if they do. Let 'em, I say; l-let 'em!They can p-p-poke their fun and p-p-p-pup-pup-poke it, but I tell 'emto h-heave ahead and p-pup-pup-POKE. When I used to g-go to their oldReg'lar meetin' house, all I done was to go to sleep. But I don't goto sleep here, glory hallelujah! No, sir! There's too much b-b-blessednoise and we have too g-good times to g-go to sleep here. That oldK-Kyan Pepper called me t-town f-fool t'other day. T-tut-town fool'swhat he called me. Says I to him, says I: 'You-you-y-you ain't got spunkenough to be a fool, ' I says, 'unless Laviny says you c-can be. You oldReg'lar p-p-pepper shaker, you!"

By this time tee-hees from the children and chuckles from some of theolder members interfered with Mr. Badger's fervent but jerky discourse. Captain Eben struck the table smartly. 

"Silence!" he thundered. "Silence! Brother Badger, I beg your pardon for'em. Go on!"

But Josiah's train of thought had evidently been derailed by theinterruption. 

"I--I--I cal'late that's about all, " he stammered and sat down. 

The captain looked over the meeting. 

"I'm ashamed, " he said, "ashamed of the behavior of some of us in theLord's house. This has been a failure, this service of ours. We havekept still when we should have justified our faith, and allowed thepresence of a stranger to interfere with our duty to the Almighty. AndI will say, " he added, his voice rising and trembling with indignation, "to him who came here uninvited and broke up this meetin', that it wouldbe well for him to remember the words of Scriptur', 'Woe unto ye, falseprophets and workers of iniquity. ' Let him remember what the Divinewisdom put into my head to read to-night: 'The pastors have becomebrutish and have not sought the Lord; therefore they shall notprosper. '"

"Amen!" "Amen!" "Amen!" "So be it!" The cries came from all parts of thelittle room. They ceased abruptly, for John Ellery was on his feet. 

"Captain Hammond, " he said, "I realize that I have no right to speak inthis building, but I must say one word. My coming here to-night may havebeen a mistake; I'm inclined to think it was. But I came not, as youseem to infer, to sneer or to scoff; certainly I had no wish to disturbyour service. I came because I had heard repeatedly, since my arrivalin this town, of this society and its meetings. I had heard, too, thatthere seemed to be a feeling of antagonism, almost hatred, against meamong you here. I couldn't see why. Most of you have, I believe, been atone time members of the church where I preach. I wished to find out formyself how much of truth there was in the stories I had heard and tosee if a better feeling between the two societies might not be broughtabout. Those were my reasons for coming here to-night. As for my beinga false prophet and a worker of iniquity"--he smiled--"well, there isanother verse of Scripture I would call to your attention: 'Judge not, that ye be not judged. '"

He sat down. There was silence for a moment and then a buzz ofwhispering. Captain Eben, who had heard him with a face of ironhardness, rapped the table. 

"We will sing in closin', " he said, "the forty-second hymn. After whichthe benediction will be pronounced. "

The Regular minister left the Come-Outers' meeting with the unpleasantconviction that he had blundered badly. His visit, instead of tendingtoward better understanding and more cordial relationship, hadbeen regarded as an intrusion. He had been provoked into a publicjustification, and now he was quite sure that he would have been morepolitic to remain silent. He realized that the evening's performancewould cause a sensation and be talked about all over town. TheCome-Outers would glory in their leader's denunciation of him, and hisown people would perhaps feel that it served him right. If he had onlytold Mrs. Coffin of what he intended to do. Yet he had not told herbecause he meant to do it anyhow. Altogether it was a rather humiliatingbusiness. 

So that old bigot was the Van Horne girl's "uncle. " It hardly seemedpossible that she, who appeared so refined and ladylike when he met herat the parsonage, should be a member of that curious company. Whenhe rose to speak he had seen her in the front row, beside the thin, middle-aged female who had entered the chapel with Captain Hammond andwith her. She was looking at him intently. The lamp over the speaker'stable had shone full on her face and the picture remained in his memory. He saw her eyes and the wavy shadows of her hair on her forehead. 

He stepped off the platform, across the road, out of the way ofhomeward-bound Come-Outers, and stood there, thinking. The fog wasas heavy and wet as ever; in fact, it was almost a rain. The windwas blowing hard from the northwest. The congregation dispersed inchattering groups, their lanterns dipping and swinging like fireflies. The chatter dealt entirely with one subject--himself. He heard his namementioned at least twenty times. Out of the gusty, dripping blacknesscame Mr. Badger's voice. 

"By time!" crowed Josiah, "he was took down a few p-p-pup-pegs, wa'n'the! My! how Eben did g-gi-gi-give it to him. He looked toler'ble whiteunder the gills when he riz up to heave out his s-s-sus-sassy talk. Andfoolish, too. I cal'late I won't be the only town fuf-fuf-fool from nowon. He! he!"

The noises died away in the distance. Within the chapel the trampof heavy boots sounded as the lights were blown out, one by one. Theminister frowned, sighed, and turned homeward. It is not pleasant to becalled a fool, even by a recognized member of the fraternity. 

He had taken but a few steps when there was a rustle in the wet grassbehind him. 

"Mr. Ellery, " whispered a voice, "Mr. Ellery, may I speak to you just amoment?"

He wheeled in surprise. 

"Why! why, Miss Van Horne!" he exclaimed. "Is it you?"

"Mr. Ellery, " she began, speaking hurriedly and in a low voice, "I--Ifelt that I must say a word to you before--"

She paused and glanced back at the chapel. Ezekiel Bassett, the janitor, having extinguished the last lamp, had emerged from the door and waslocking up. In another moment he clumped past them in the middle of theroad, the circle of light from his lantern just missing them as theystood in the grass at the side under the hornbeam and blackberry bushes. He was alone; Sukey B. Had gone on before, other and younger masculineescort having been providentially provided. 

Mr. Bassett was out of hearing before Grace finished her sentence. Theminister was silent, waiting and wondering. 

"I felt, " she said, "that I must see you and--explain. I am SO sorry youcame here to-night. Oh, I wish you hadn't. What made you do it?"

"I came, " began Ellery, somewhat stiffly, "because I--well, because Ithought it might be a good thing to do. As I said--"

"Yes, I know. But it wasn't. It was so--so--"

"So foolish. Thank you, I'm aware of it. I've heard myself called afool already since I left your church. Not that I needed to hear it. Irealize the fact. "

There was a bitterness in his tone, unmistakable. And a little laughfrom his companion did not tend to soothe his feelings. 

"Thank you, " he said. "Perhaps it is funny. I did not find it so. Goodevening. "

This was priggish, but it must be borne in mind that John Ellery wasvery, very fresh from the theological school, where young divines aretaught to take themselves seriously. He was ashamed of himself as soonas he said it, which proved that his case was not beyond hope. 

The girl detained him as he was turning away. 

"I wasn't laughing at that, " she said. "I know who called you that--thatname. It was Josiah Badger, and he really is one, you know. I wasthinking of his testimony in meeting and how he called Ky--Abishai--apepper shaker. That was ridiculous enough, but it reminded me ofsomething else about Mr. Pepper, and I HAD to laugh. It wasn't at you, truly. "

So the minister begged her pardon; also he remained where he was, andheard the drops from the tree patter hollow on his hat. 

"I came after you, " went on Grace rapidly and with nervous haste, "because I felt that you ought not to misjudge my uncle for what he saidto-night. He wouldn't have hurt your feelings for the world. He is agood man and does good to everybody. If you only knew the good he doesdo, you wouldn't--you wouldn't DARE think hardly of him. "

She stamped her foot in the wet grass as she said it. She was evidentlyin earnest. But Ellery was not in the mood to be greatly impressedby Eben Hammond's charity or innate goodness. The old tavern keeper'sreferences to himself were too fresh in his mind. "False prophet" and"worker of iniquity!"

"I'm not judging your uncle, " he declared. "It seemed to me that theboot was on the other leg. "

"I know, but you do judge him, and you mustn't. You see, he thoughtyou had come to make fun of him--and us. Some of the Regular people do, people who aren't fit to tie his shoes. And so he spoke against you. He'll be sorry when he thinks it over. That's what I came to tell you. Iask your pardon for--for him. "

"Why--why, that's all right. I think I understood--"

"I'm not asking it because he's a Come-Outer and you're a Regularminister. He isn't ashamed of his religion. Neither am I. I'm aCome-Outer, too. "

"Yes. I--I supposed you were. "

"Yes, I am. There, good night, Mr. Ellery. All I ask is that you don'tthink too hardly of uncle. He didn't mean it. "

She turned away now, and it was the minister who detained her. 

"I've been thinking, " he said slowly, for in his present state of mindit was a hard thing to say, "that perhaps I ought to apologize, too. I'm afraid I did disturb your service and I'm sorry. I meant well, but--What's that? Rain?"

There was no doubt about it; it was rain and plenty of it. It came ina swooping downpour that beat upon the trees and bushes and roared uponthe roof of the chapel. The minister hurriedly raised his umbrella. 

"Here!" he cried, "let me--Miss Van Horne! Where are you?"

The answer came from a short distance down the "Turn-off. "

"Good night, " called the girl. "I must run. "

Evidently, she WAS running. Therefore the young man ran after her. Hecaught up with her in a moment, in spite of some stumbles over the roughroad. 

"Here!" he commanded, "you must take the umbrella. Really, you must. Youhaven't one and you'll be wet through. "

She pushed the umbrella aside. 

"No, no, " she answered. "I don't need it; I'm used to wet weather; trulyI am. And I don't care for this hat; it's an old one. You have a longway to go and I haven't. Please, Mr. Ellery, I can't take it. "

"Very well, " was the sternly self-sacrificing reply, "then I shallcertainly go with you. "

"But I don't wish you to. "

"I can't help that. I'm not going to let you go unprotected throughthis flood. Especially as you might have been at home before this if youhadn't stopped to speak with me. "

"But you mustn't. "

"I shall. "

Here was the irresistible force and the immovable object. They stoodstock still in the middle of the road, while the rain drops jumped asthey struck the umbrella top. The immovable object, being feminine, voiced the unexpected. 

"All right, " she said; "then I suppose I shall have to take it. "

"What?"

"The umbrella. I'm sorry, and you'll get dreadfully wet, but it's yourown fault. "

He could feel her hand near his own on the handle. He did not relinquishhis grasp. 

"No, " he said. "I think, on the whole, that that is unreasonable. ISHOULD get wet and, though I don't mind it when it is necessary, I--"

"Well?" rather sharply, "what are you going to do?"

"Go with you as far as your gate. I'm sorry, if my company isdistasteful, but--"

He did not finish the sentence, thinking, it may be, that she mightfinish it for him. But she was silent, merely removing her hand from thehandle. She took a step forward; he followed, holding the umbrella aboveher head. They plashed on, without speaking, through the rapidly formingpuddles. 

Presently she stumbled and he caught her arm to prevent her falling. Tohis surprise he felt that arm shake in his grasp. 

"Why, Miss Van Horne!" he exclaimed in great concern, "are you crying?I beg your pardon. Of course I wouldn't think of going another step withyou. I didn't mean to trouble you. I only--If you will please take thisumbrella--"

Again he tried to transfer the umbrella and again she pushed it away. 

"I--I'm not crying, " she gasped; "but--oh, dear! this is SO funny!"

Mr. Ellery gazed blankly at her through the rain-streaked dark. This wasthe most astonishing young person he had met in his twenty-three yearsof worldly experience. 

"Funny!" he repeated. "Well, perhaps it is. Our ideas of fun seem todiffer. I--"

"Oh, but it IS so funny. You don't understand. What do you think yourcongregation would say if they knew you had been to a Come-Outers'meeting and then insisted on seeing a Come-Outer girl home?"

John Ellery swallowed hard. A vision of Captain Elkanah Daniels and thestately Miss Annabel rose before his mind's eye. He hadn't thought ofhis congregation in connection with this impromptu rescue of a damsel indistress. 

"Ha, ha!" he laughed mournfully. "I guess it is rather funny, afterall. "

"It certainly is. Now will you leave me and go back to your parsonage?"

"Not unless you take the umbrella. "

"Very well. It is a beautiful evening for a walk, don't you think so?Mr. Ellery, I'm afraid we shan't have you with us in Trumet very long. "

"Why not?"

"Oh, because you're so very, very original. Are your sermons that way, too? Captain Elkanah doesn't like his ministers to be too original. "

The minister set his teeth. At that moment he felt an intense desireto bid the Daniels family mind their own business. Then another thoughtstruck him. 

"Possibly your Uncle Eben might be somewhat--er--surprised if heknew you were with me. Perhaps he might have something to say on thesubject. "

"I guess he would. We shall know very soon. I ran away and left him withMrs. Poundberry, our housekeeper. He doesn't know where I am. I wonderhe hasn't turned back to look for me before this. We shall probably meethim at any moment. "

She seemed to enjoy the prospect of the meeting. Ellery wondered what onearth he should say to Captain Hammond--that is, provided he was allowedto say anything. 

Suddenly a heavier gust of rain and wind beat upon them. The ministerstruggled with the umbrella. The gust passed and with it the fog. Aninstant before it had been all about them, shutting them within inkywalls. Now it was not. Through the rain he could see the shadowysilhouettes of bushes at the road side. Fifty yards away the lightedwindows of the Hammond tavern gleamed yellow. Farther on, over a ragged, moving fringe of grass and weeds, was a black flat expanse--the bay. Anda little way out upon that expanse twinkled the lights of a vessel. Achain rattled. Voices shouting exultingly came to their ears. 

"Why!" exclaimed Grace in excited wonder, "it's the packet! She was duethis morning, but we didn't expect her in till to-morrow. How did shefind her way in the fog? I must tell uncle. "

She started to run toward the house. The minister would have followedwith the umbrella, but she stopped him. 

"No, Mr. Ellery, " she urged earnestly. "No, please don't. I'm all rightnow. Thank you. Good night. "

A few steps farther on she turned. 

"I hope Cap'n Elkanah won't know, " she whispered, the laugh returning toher voice. "Good night. "

Ellery stood still in the rain and watched her. He saw her pass thelighted windows and open a door. Into the yellow radiance she flashedand disappeared. A minute more and the bulky form of Eben Hammond, lantern in hand, a sou'wester on his head and his shoulders workingthemselves into an oilskin coat, burst out of the door and hurriedlylimped down toward the shore. On the threshold, framed in light, stoodhis ward, gazing after him. And the minister gazed at her. 

From the bay came the sound of oars in row-locks. A boat was approachingthe wharf. And suddenly from the boat came a hail. 

"Halloo! Ahoy, dad! Is that you?"

There was an answering shout from the wharf; a shout of joy. Thena rattle of oars and a clamor of talk. And Grace still stood in thedoorway, waiting. 

The lantern bobbed up the slope. As it reached the tavern gateway, theminister saw that it was now carried by a tall, active man, who walkedwith a seaman's stride and roll. Captain Eben was close beside him, talking excitedly. 

They entered the yard. 

"Grace! Grace!" screamed Captain Eben. "Gracie, girl, look who's come!Look!"

The tall man ran forward. 

"Hi, Grace!" he cried in a deep, hearty voice. "Is that you? Ain't yougot a word for your old messmate?"

The girl stepped out into the rain. 

"Why! why, NAT!" she cried. 

The big man picked her up bodily in his arms and carried her into thehouse. Captain Eben followed and the door closed. 

John Ellery picked his way homeward through the puddles and the pouringrain. 

He found Keziah in the sitting room, seated by the table, evidentlywriting a letter. She looked tired and grave--for her. 

"Well!" she exclaimed as he entered. "I guess you're soppin' now, sartinsure. There's a light in your room. Take off your wet things and throw'em down to me, and I'll dry 'em in the kitchen. Better leave your bootshere now and stand that umbrella in the sink. The kettle's on the stove;you'd better have somethin' hot--ginger tea or somethin'. I told you notto go out such a night as this. Where in the world have you been?"

The minister said he would tell her all about it in the morning. Justnow he thought he had better go up and take off his wet clothes. Hedeclined the ginger tea, and, after removing his boots, went upstairs tohis room. 

Keziah dipped her pen in the ink and went on with her letter. 

"I inclose ten dollars, " she wrote. "It is all I can send you now. Morethan I ought to afford. Goodness knows why I send anything. You don'tdeserve it. But while I live and you do I can't--"

The minister called from the landing. 

"Here is my coat, " he said. "The cuffs and lower part of the sleeves arepretty wet. By the way, the packet came in to-night. They didn't expecther so soon on account of the fog. There was a passenger aboard whom Ithink must be that Nathaniel Hammond you told me of. "

Keziah's pen stopped. The wet coat struck the hall floor with a softthump. The tick of the clock sounded loud in the room. A sheet ofwind-driven rain lashed the windows. 

"Did you hear?" called the minister. "I said that Nathaniel Hammond, Captain Eben's son, came on the packet. I didn't meet him, but I'm sureit was he. Er--Mrs. Coffin, are you there? Do you hear me?"

The housekeeper laid the pen down beside the unfinished letter. 

"Yes, " she said, "I hear you. Good night. "

For minutes she sat there, leaning back in her chair and staring at thewall. Then she rose, went into the hall, picked up the coat, and took itout into the kitchen, where she hung it on the clotheshorse by the cookstove. After a while she returned to the table and took up the pen. Herface in the lamplight looked more tired and grave than ever. 

It was a long time before John Ellery fell asleep. He had much to thinkof--of the morrow, of the talk his rash visit to the chapel would cause, of the explanation he must make to Captain Elkanah and the rest. But thepicture that was before his closed eyes as he lay there was neither ofCaptain Elkanah nor the parish committee; it was that of a girl, withdark hair and a slim, graceful figure, standing in a lighted doorway andpeering out into the rain. 

CHAPTER VI

IN WHICH OLD FRIENDS MEET

When Ellery came down to breakfast the rain was over, the wind hadgone down, and the morning sunshine was pouring in at the dining-roomwindows. Outside the lilacs were in bud, the bluebirds were singing, andthere was a sniff of real spring in the air. The storm was at an end andyet the young minister was conscious of a troublesome feeling that, forhim, it was just beginning. 

However, he had determined while dressing to make a clean breast of itto his housekeeper--a nominally clean breast, that is. There were somethings he would not tell her, some that he would not speak of to anyone, the picture in the doorway for instance. True, it was only a pictureand of no moment, but it was pleasant to remember. One of the very fewpleasant things connected with the previous evening. 

So, as they sat opposite each other at the table, he began hisconfession. The muffins scorched in the oven and the coffeepot boiledover as he told his story, for Keziah was too much interested to thinkof trifles. Interested and astounded, for, since Come-Outers had beenCome-Outers and the split in the society took place, no Regular ministerhad crossed the threshold of a seceder's dwelling, much less attendedtheir services and walked home with a member of their congregation. Sheknew what this amazing procedure was likely to mean, if her parson didnot. 

"Well!" she exclaimed when the recital was finished. "Well!"

"I--I'm afraid I was too hasty, " observed Mr. Ellery thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would have been wiser not to have done it. "

"Perhaps 'twould. Yes, I wouldn't wonder a mite. "

"It will be talked about some, I suppose. Don't you think so?"

"Some, yes. "

"I'm afraid some of my own people may think it queer. "

"Queer! Say, Mr. Ellery, you remind me of a half-breed Portugeefeller--half Portugee and a half Indian--that went to sea with myfather, back in the old days. He hardly ever spoke a word, mainlygrunted and made signs. One day he and another fo'mast hand went aloftin a calm to do somethin' to the tops'l. The half-breed--they called himBilly Peter and he always called himself that--was out on the end ofthe yard, with his foot on the rope underneath, I forget the name of it, when the tarred twine he had for a shoe string caught. Tryin' to getit loose it broke sudden, his shoe pulled off, he lost his balance andfell. He grabbed at the yard, saved himself for a second, fell again, grabbed the next yard, then a rope and so on down, grabbin' and pullin'all the way. First his shoe hit the deck, then his sheath knife, thena piece of rope, and finally himself, landin' right on top of the Irishcook who was goin' aft from the galley with father's dinner. 

"There was the greatest racket you ever heard, pans fallin', dishessmashin', men yellin', and the cook swearin'. Father run on deck, thinkin' the ship was dismasted. He found the cook and Billy Petersittin' in the middle of the mess, lookin' at each other. Neither washurt a mite. The mates and the crew, part of 'em, was standin' starin'at the pair. 

"'For Heaven sakes!' says father; 'what happened?'

"The half-breed looked up and rubbed his head. 'Ugh!' says he, 'BillyPeter bust his shoe string. '

"The cook, his name was O'Neill, looked at him disgusted. 'Well, begorra!' says he, 'Billy Peter, you don't exaggerate none, do ye! It'sa good thing BOTH of 'em didn't bust or we'd have foundered. '

"You remind me of Billy Peter, Mr. Ellery, you don't exaggerate. Queer?Some folks think your goin' to that meetin' last night QUEER? At thismoment one half of Trumet is talkin' about it and runnin' out to tellthe other half. I guess I'd better hurry up with this breakfast. We'regoin' to have callers. "

Strange to say, however, this prophecy of early morning visitors didnot prove true. Nine o'clock, then ten, and no visitor came to theparsonage. Mrs. Coffin affirmed that she did not understand it. Wherewas Didama? Where Lavinia Pepper? Had the "Trumet Daily Advertiser"suspended publication?

At half past ten the gate slammed. Keziah peered from the window. 

"Humph!" she ejaculated. "Here comes Elkanah and he's got storm signalsset, by the looks. He's comin' after you, Mr. Ellery. "

"Very well, " was the calm reply; "let him come. "

"What are you goin' to say to him?"

"Nothing, except that I did what I considered right at the time. Showhim into the study, Mrs. Coffin, please. "

Captain Daniels marched to the dining-room door, his gold-headed canemarking time like a drumbeat. He nodded curtly to Keziah, who answeredthe knock, and stepped across the threshold. 

"Hum--ha!" he barked. "Is the minister--hum--ha! is Mr. Ellery in?"

"Yes, he's in. "

"Tell him I want to see him. "

The housekeeper announced the visitor. 

"He's as sour as a skimmin' of last week's milk, " she whispered. "Don'tbe afraid of him, though. "

"Oh, I'm not. Show him in. "

"All right. Say, Mr. Ellery, it's none of my business, but I wouldn'tsay anything about your seein' Grace home. That's none of HIS business, either, or anybody else's. "

The head of the parish committee stalked into the study and thedoor closed behind him. A rumble of voices in animated conversationsucceeded. 

Mrs. Coffin went out into the kitchen and resumed her business of makinga dried-apple pie. There was a hot fire in the stove and she opened theback door to let in the fresh air. She worked briskly, rolling out thedough, filling the deep dish, and pinking the edges of the upper crustwith a fork. She was thinking as she worked, but not of the minister orhis visitor. 

She put the pie in the oven and set the damper. And, as she knelt by thestove, something struck her lightly on the back of the neck. She lookedup and about her, but there was no one in sight. Then she picked up theobject which had struck her. It was a cranberry, withered and softenedby the winter frosts. 

She looked at the cranberry, then at the open door, and her eyestwinkled. Running quickly to the threshold she peered out. The back yardwas, apparently, empty, save for a few hens belonging to near neighbors, and these had stopped scratching for a living and were huddled near thefence. 

"Hum!" she mused. "You rascal! Eddie Snow, if it's you, I'll be afteryou in a minute. Just because you're big enough to quit school and drivestore wagon is no reason why I can't--Hey? Oh!"

She was looking down below the door, which opened outward and was swungpartly back on its hinges. From under the door projected a boot, a man'sboot and one of ample size. 

Keziah's cheeks, already red from the heat of the stove, reddened stillmore. Her lips twitched and her eyes sparkled. 

"Hum!" she said again. "They say you can tell the Old Scratch by hisfootprints, even if you can't smell the sulphur. Anyhow, you can tella Hammond by the size of his boots. Come out from behind that door thisminute. Ain't you ashamed of yourself?"

The owner of the boot stepped forth from behind the door and seized herby both hands. 

"Halloo, Keziah!" he cried joyfully. "My, but it's good to see you. "

"Halloo, Nat!" said Keziah heartily. "It's kind of good to see you, too. "

The rest of him was in keeping with his boots. He was big andbroad-shouldered and bearded. His face, above the beard, was tanned to adeep reddish brown, and the corners of his eyes were marked with dozensof tiny wrinkles. He was dressed in blue cloth and wore a wide-brimmed, soft felt hat. He entered the kitchen and tossed the hat into a corner. 

"Well!" he exclaimed. "Why don't you act surprised to see a feller? HereI've been cruisin' from the Horn to Barnegat and back again, and youact as if I'd just dropped in to fetch the cup of molasses I borrowedyesterday. What do you mean by it?"

"Oh, I heard you'd made port. "

"Did, hey? That's Trumet, sure pop. You ain't the only one. I sneakedoff acrost lots so's to dodge the gang of neighbors that I knew wouldbe sailin' into our yard, the whole fleet loaded to the gunwale withquestions. Wanted to see you first, Keziah. "

"Yes. So, instead of callin' like a Christian, you crept up the back wayand threw cranberries at me. Ain't you ashamed of yourself?"

"Not a mite. " He took a handful of the frostbitten berries from hiscoat pocket and inspected them lovingly. "Ain't they fine?" he asked, crunching two or three between his teeth. "I picked 'em up as I camealong. I tell you, that's the home taste, all right. "

"Don't eat those frozen things. They'll give you your never-get-over. "

"What? Cape Cod cranberries! Never in the world. I'd rather eat sanddown here than the finest mug my steward can cook. Tell you what I'lldo, though; I'll swear off on the cranberries if you'll give me afour-inch slice of that pie I saw you put in the oven. Dried-apple, I'llbet my sou'wester. Think you might ask a feller to sit down. Ain't youglad to see me?"

Mrs. Coffin pulled forward one of the kitchen chairs. He seated himselfon it and it groaned under his weight. 

"Whew!" he whistled. "Never made to stand rough weather, was it? Well, AIN'T you glad?"

Keziah looked at him gravely. 

"You know I'm glad, Nat, " she said. 

"So? I hoped you would be, but I did want to hear you say it. Now youcome to anchor yourself and let's have a talk. I've been countin' on itever since we set tops'ls off Surinam. "

The housekeeper took the other chair. 

"How are you--" she began. He stopped her. 

"S-shh!" he interrupted. "Don't say anything for a minute. Let me lookat you. Just as clean and wholesome and good-lookin' as ever. They don'tmake girls like that anywhere else but down on this old sand bar. Not aday older, by the jumpin'--"

She held up her hand. 

"Hush, Nat, " she protested; "don't talk foolish. Girl? Not a day older?Why, if feelin's count for anything, I'm as old as Methusaleh. Haven't Ihad enough to make me old?"

He was grave immediately. 

"I beg your pardon, Keziah, " he said. "I'm a dough head, that's a fact. I hadn't forgot about Sol, but I was so glad to be home again and to seedad and Grace and the old town and you that everything else flew out ofmy mind. Poor Sol! I liked him. "

"He liked you, too. No wonder, considerin' what you did to--"

"Belay! Never mind that. Poor chap! Well, he's rid of his sufferin's atlast. Tell me about it, if you can without bringin' all the trouble backtoo plain. "

So she told him of her brother's sickness and death, of having to giveup the old home, and, finally, of her acceptance of the housekeeper'sposition. He listened, at first with sympathy and then with suppressedindignation. 

"By the jumpin' Moses!" he exclaimed. "And Elkanah was goin' to turn youout of house and home. The mean, pompous old--"

"Hush! hush! he's in there with Mr. Ellery. "

"Who? Elkanah?"

"Yes; they're in the study. "

"By the jumpin'--Let me talk to him for a few minutes. I'LL tell himwhat's good for his health. You just listen. "

He rose from the chair, but she made him sit down again. 

"No, no, " she protested. "He wasn't to blame. He had to have his rentand I didn't feel that I could afford to keep up a whole house, just formyself. And, besides, I ought to be thankful to him, I suppose. He gotme this place. "

"He did?"

"Yes, he did. I rather guess Zeb Mayo or somebody may have suggested itto him first, but--"

"Humph! I rather guess so, too. "

"Well, you can't always tell. Sometimes when you really get inside of aperson you find a generous streak that--"

"Not in a Daniels. Anybody that got inside of Elkanah would find nothin'but Elkanah there, and 'twould be crowded at that. So he's talkin' tothe new parson, hey? Bossin' him, too, I'll bet. "

"I ain't so sure. Mr. Ellery's young, but he's got a mind of his own. "

Captain Hammond chuckled and slapped his knee. 

"Ho, ho!" he laughed. "I've been hearin' somethin' about that mind. Wentto the chapel last night, I understand, and he and dad had a set-to. Oh, I heard about it! Wish I might have been there. "

"How does your father act about it?"

"'Bout the way a red-hot stove acts when you spill water on it; everytime he thinks of the minister he sizzles. Ho, ho! I do wish I couldhave been there. "

"What does Grace say?"

"Oh, she doesn't say much. I wouldn't wonder if she felt the way I do, though we both keep quiet. I'll tell you, between ourselves and theship's pump, that I sort of glory in the young chap's spunk. "

"Good! So do I. I like him. "

"See here, Keziah! I'm gettin' frightened. You ain't settin' your cap tobe a parson's wife, are you? Because--"

"Don't be silly. I might adopt him, but that's all, I guess. "

Her friend leaned forward. 

"Keziah, " he said earnestly, "there's no sense in your slavin' yourselfto death here. I can think of a good deal pleasanter berth than that. Pleasanter for me, anyhow, and I'd do my best to make it pleasant foryou. You've only got to say the word and--No? Well, then all I can do ishope through another voyage. "

"Please don't, Nat. You know. "

"No, I don't know. "

"Well, perhaps you don't. But I know. I like you, Nat. I count on you asthe straightest, truest friend I've got; and I want to keep on countin'on you just that way. Mayn't I?"

"'Course you can, Keziah. But--"

"Then don't say another word, please. "

He sighed and looked out at the open door. The kitchen clock ticked loudin the silence. 

"All right, " he said at last. "All right, but I'm goin' to keep onhopin'. "

"You mustn't, Nat. "

"Keziah, when you set your foot down you're pretty stubborn; but I'vegot somethin' of a foot myself. You remember you said so a few minutesago. Hi, hum! Well, speakin' of dad reminds me that I'm kind of worriedabout him. "

"You are? Why? Isn't he well?"

"Pretty well, but he ain't strong, and he gets too excited over thingslike last night's foolishness. Grace tells me that the doctor says hemust be careful or he'll drop off sudden some of these days. He had ashock five or six years ago, a little one, and I've been anxious abouthim ever since. I've got to go to New York off and on for the nextmonth; after that I hope to be home for a spell and I can keep an eye onhim. Keziah, if you'll listen I'll whisper somethin' to you--religion'sa good thing and so's a mustard plaster, but both of 'em can be put ontoo strong. Dad is just a little mite crazy on Come-Outers, I'm afraid. "

"Oh, no, I guess not! You mustn't worry. How did Grace look to you?"

"Like the harbor light on a stormy night. She's a brick, that girl, andgets prettier every minute. Wonder to me some of the young chaps downhere don't carry her off by main strength. She'll make somebody a goodwife. "

"Um-hm. Have--have you ever thought of her that way yourself?"

"Keziah!"

"Well, don't get mad. I think a lot of Grace, and I don't know anyoneI'd rather see you marry. "

"I do. Keziah, that's enough of that. Are you and dad in partnership toget me spliced and out of the way? He was at me this mornin' along thesame line. Don't say anything like that again, even in fun. YOU knowwhy. "

"All right, all right. Now tell me about yourself. Have you had a goodvoyage? How do you like your owners? How did Zach Foster ever get thepacket in through yesterday's fog?"

"Voyage was all right. Some rugged weather on the trip out, but homewardbound we slid along like a slush bucket on a greased plank. Ownersare all right. Good people as ever I sailed for. As for Zach and thepacket--Ho, ho!"

He laughed, rocking back and forth on the chair, which creaked insympathy. 

"What's the joke?" demanded the housekeeper. "Don't do that! That chairwasn't made for elephants to use. "

"Hey? 'Tis pretty weak in the knees, ain't it? Dad would say 'twas apiece with the creed of those that owned it. I--What's that? Somebody'scomin'. I'm goin' to clear out. I don't want to be put through mycatechism yet a while. "

"No, you mustn't go. I want you to meet Mr. Ellery. You sit out onthe wash bench by the back door till I get rid of whoever 'tis that'scomin'. Scoot!"

Nat "scooted, " stopping to snatch up his hat as he ran. Keziah went intothe dining room and admitted Captain Zebedee Mayo, who was panting fromthe exertion of his walk. 

"Whew!" puffed Captain Zeb, mopping his forehead. "How be you, Keziah?What? You ain't all alone! Thought you'd have a cabin full of gabmachines by this time. Have they been and gone?"

"No, they haven't been. I--My land, my pie!"

She rushed into the kitchen and snatched the pastry from the oven. Hernew caller followed her. 

"So they ain't been, hey?" he said. "That's queer. "

"Elkanah's here. He's in there with the minister now. "

"He is? Givin' the young feller Hail Columby, I cal'late. Well, now, he shan't. He, he! When they told me how the minister passed oldhop-and-go-fetch-it what was due him at the chapel last night I riz upand hoorayed till my wife shut the windows. She said the neighbors allthought I was loony, anyhow, and I needn't prove it to 'em. He, he! ButElkanah ain't got any funny bone. He's as solemn as a stuffed owl, andhe'll--Well, I'm goin' to put MY oar in. I'm parish committee, too, Ical'late, and I've got somethin' to say, even if I wa'n't christenedDaniels. Here goes!"

He headed for the study, but before he crossed the threshold of thekitchen Ellery and his visitor came out into the dining room. CaptainElkanah's face was flushed, and he fidgeted. The minister lookeddetermined but calm. 

"Ahoy there, Elkanah!" hailed Zebedee cheerfully. "'Mornin', Mr. Ellery. Been havin' officers' counsel, have you?"

"Good morning, Captain Mayo, " said the minister. 

"'Mornin', Zebedee, " grunted Elkanah. "I have--hum--ha!--beendiscussing the regrettable affair of last night with Mr. Ellery. I havetried--hum--ha! to show him that respectable people of our society don'tassociate with Come-Outers, and that for a Regular minister to go totheir meetings is something neither the congregation nor the parishcommittee approves of. No--er--hum--ha! no!"

"And I explained to Captain Daniels, " observed the minister, "that Iwent there for what seemed to me good reasons, and, as they did seem tome good at the time, I'm not ashamed of having gone. It was an honestmistake on my part and I may make more. "

"But the society--" began Elkanah. Captain Zeb interrupted him. 

"Don't worry about the society, Mr. Ellery, " he said with emphasis. "Norabout the parish committee, either. Great fishhooks! the most of us aretickled to death over what you said to Eben Hammond. We think it's amighty good joke. YOU didn't know, of course, and what you did was doneinnocent. He! he! he! Did you lay him out, hey?"

"Zebedee, " began Captain Daniels, "I must say I can't see anything tolaugh at. "

"You never could, Elkanah. I remember that time when you and me and someof the fellers home from sea went out sailin' and the boom knocked youoverboard with your Sunday clothes on. Lordy, how the rest of us didholler! but you never cracked a smile. If you'd seen yourself when wehauled you in! whiskers runnin' salt water; beaver hat lookin' like adrownded kitten--"

"There! There! Never mind that. I think you'll find a good many of thesociety feel as I do, shocked and--hum--ha!--sorry. I'm surprised theyhaven't been here to say so. "

"I expected them, " remarked the minister. 

"So did I, " chimed in Captain Zeb. "But I cal'late to know why theyain't been. They're all too busy crowin' over the way Nat Hammondfetched the packet home last night. WHAT? You ain't heard? Greatfishhooks! it's the best thing ever--"

"I've heard about it, " snapped Elkanah impatiently. "Mr. Ellery, I'mglad you realize that your action was a mistake and I will take pains tohave that immejitly made plain to--"

"YOU ain't heard, Keziah, have you?" broke in Zebedee. "Nor you, Mr. Ellery? Well, I must tell you. Here's where I gain a lap on DidamaRogers. Seems the Deborah S. --that's the packet's name, Mr. Ellery--shehauled out of Boston night afore last on the ebb, with a fair wind andsky clear as a bell. But they hadn't much more'n got outside of Minot's'fore the fog shut down, thicker'n gruel for a sick rich man. The windheld till 'long toward mornin'; then she flattened to a dead calm. 'BijePerry, the mate, he spun the yarn to me, and he said 'twas thick andflat as ever he see and kept gettin' no better fast. 

"They drifted along till noon time and then they was somewheres out inthe bay, but that's about all you could say. Zach, he was stewin' andsputterin' like a pair of fried eels, and Lafayette Gage and EmulousPeters--they're Denboro folks, Mr. Ellery, and about sixteen p'intst'other side of no account--they was the only passengers aboard exceptNat Hammond, and they put in their time playin' high low jack in thecabin. The lookout was for'ard tootin' a tin horn and his bellerin'was the most excitin' thing goin' on. After dinner--corned beef andcabbage--trust Zach for that, though it's next door to cannibalism toput cabbage in HIS mouth--after dinner all hands was on deck when Natsays: 'Hush!' he says. 'Don't I hear somethin'?'

"They listened, and then they all heard it--all 'cept Zach, who's deefin his larboard ear. 

"'Stand by!' roars Nat. 'It's a squall, dead astern and comin' abilin'!I'll take her, 'Bije. You look out for them tops'ls. '

"So Nat grabs the wheel and 'Bije tears for'ard and sends the twofo'mast hands aloft on the jump. Zach was skipper, but all he done wasrace around and holler and trip over his own feet. Oh, he's a prizesailor, he is! Don't talk to me about them Fosters! I--"

"Nobody is talkin' about 'em but you, Zeb, " observed Keziah drily. "Goon. How about the squall?"

"It hit 'em 'fore they got even one tops'l clewed down. That one, theforetops'l 'twas, split to rags. The main tops'l was set, and when thesquall struck, the rotten old topmast went by the board 'Kerrash-o!''Course splinters flew like all possessed, and one of 'em, about a footlong, sailed past Nat's head, where he stood heavin' his whole weight onthe wheel, and lit right on the binnacle, smashin' it to matches. 

"They say Nat never paid the least attention, no more'n if the chunk ofwood had been a June bug buzzin' past. He just held that wheel hard downand that saved the packet. She come around and put her nose dead inthe wind just in time. As 'twas, 'Bije says there was a second when thewater by her lee rail looked right underneath him as he hung onto thedeck with finger nails and teeth. 

"Well, there they was, afloat, but with their upper riggin' gone andthe compass smashed flat. A howlin' no'thwester blowin' and fog thick asever. Zach was a whimperin', fidgetin' old woman, Lafayette and Emulouswas prayin' in the scuppers--and that ain't an exercise they're used to, neither--and even 'Bije was mighty shook up and worried--he says he washimself. But Nat Hammond was as cool and refreshin' as the bottom of mywell up home. 

"'Better clear away that mess aloft, hadn't you?' he says to theskipper. 

"Zach said he guessed so; he wa'n't sure of nothin'. However, theycleared it away, and incidentally 'Bije yanked the prayer meetin' outof the scuppers and set 'em to work. Then Nat suggests gettin' the sparecompass and, lo and behold you! there wa'n't any. Compasses cost moneyand money's made to keep, so Zach thinks. 

"So there they was. Wind was fair, or ought to be, but 'twas blowin'hard and so thick you couldn't hardly see the jib boom. Zach he wantedto anchor, then he didn't, then he did, and so on. Nobody paid muchattention to him. 

"'What'll we do, Nat?' says 'Bije. He knew who was the real seamanaboard. 

"'Keep her as she is, dead afore it, if you ask me, says Nat. 'Guesswe'll hit the broadside of the cape somewheres if this gale holds. '

"So they kept her as she was. And it got to be night and they knewthey'd ought to be 'most onto the edge of the flats off here, if theirreck'nin' was nigh right. They hove the lead and got five fathom. Noflats about that. 

"Zach was for anchorin' again. 'What do you think, Nat?' asks 'Bije. 

"'Anchor, of course, if you want to, ' Nat says. 'You're runnin' thiscraft. I'm only passenger. '

"'But what do you THINK?' whines Zach. 'Can't you tell us what you dothink?'

"'Well, if 'twas me, I wouldn't anchor till I had to. Prob'ly 'twillfair off to-morrow, but if it shouldn't, we might have to lay out hereall day. Anyhow, we'd have to wait for a full tide. '

"'I'm afraid we're off the course, ' says 'Bije, else we'd been acrostthe bar by this time. '

"'Well, ' Nat tells him, 'if we are off the course and too far inshore, we would have made the bar--the Bayport bar--if not the Trumet one. Andif we're off the course and too far out, we'd ought to have deeper waterthan five fathom, hadn't we? 'Course I'm not sure, but--What's that, lands-man?'

"'Three and a half, sir, ' says the feller with the lead. That showedthey was edgin' in somewheres. Nat he sniffed, for all the world like adog catchin' a scent, so 'Bije declares. 

"'I can smell home, ' he says. 

"Three fathom the lead give 'em, then two and a half, then a scant two. They was drawin' six feet. Zach couldn't stand it. 

"'I'm goin' to anchor, ' he squeals, frantic. 'I believe we're plumb overto Wellmouth and drivin' right onto Horsefoot Shoal. '

"'It's either that or the bar, ' chimes in 'Bije. 'And whichever 'tis, wecan't anchor in the middle of it. '

"'But what'll we do?' shouts Zach. 'Can't nobody say somethin' to DO?'

"'Tell you I smell home, ' says Nat, calm and chipper, 'and I'd know thatsmell if I met it in Jericho. Ha! there she deepens again. That was thebar and we're over it. '

"The wind had gone down to a stiff sailin' breeze, and the old Debby S. Slapped along afore it. Sometimes there was twelve foot under her keeland sometimes eight or nine. Once 'twas only seven and a half. Zach and'Bije both looked at each other, but Nat only smiled. 

"'Oh, you can laugh!' hollers Zach. ''Tain't your vessel you're runnin'into danger. YOU aint paid out your good money--'

"Nat never answered; but he stopped smilin'. 

"And all to once the water deepened. Hammond swung her up into the wind. 

"'NOW you can anchor, ' says he. 

"'And 'bout time, too, I guess, ' says 'Bije. 'I cal'late the skipper'sright. This IS Horsefoot and we're right between the shoals. Yes, sir, and I hear breakers. Lively there!'

"They hove over the mudhook and dropped the sails. Nat shook his head. 

"'Breakers or not, ' says he, 'I tell you I've smelt home for the lasthalf hour. Now, by the jumpin' Moses, I can TASTE it!'

"And inside of a couple of shakes come the rain. It poured for a whileand then the fog cleared. Right acrost their bows was Trumet, with thetown clock strikin' ten. Over the flat place between the hills theycould see the light on the ocean side. And they was anchored rightin the deep hole inside the breakwater, as sure as I'm knee high to amarlin spike!

"'Bije just stared at Hammond with his mouth open. 

"'Nat, ' says he, 'you're a seaman, if I do say it. I thought I was apretty good bay pilot, but I can't steer a vessel without a compassthrough a night as black as Pharaoh's Egypt, and in a thick fog besides, and land her square on top of her moorin's. If my hat wa'n't sloshin'around thirty mile astern, I snum if I wouldn't take it off to you thisminute!'

"'Nat, ' stammers Zach, 'I must say I--'

"Nat snapped him shut like a tobacco box. 'You needn't, ' says he. 'ButI'll say this to you, Zach Foster. When I undertake to handle a vesselI handle her best I know how, and the fact that I don't own her makes nodifference to me. You just put that down somewheres so you won't forgetit. '

"And this mornin', " crowed Captain Zebedee, concluding his long yarn, "after that, mind you, that lubber Zach Foster is around town tellin'folks that his schooner had been over the course so often she COULDN'Tget lost. She found her way home herself. WHAT do you think of that?"

The two members of the parish committee left the parsonage soon afterCaptain Mayo had finished his story. Elkanah had listened with growingirritation and impatience. Zebedee lingered a moment behind hiscompanions. 

"Don't you fret yourself about what happened last night, Mr. Ellery, "he whispered. "It'll be all right. 'Course nobody'd want you to keep upchummin' in with Come-Outers, but what you said to old Eben'll squareyou this time. So long. "

The minister shut the door behind his departing guests. Then he went outinto the kitchen, whither the housekeeper had preceded him. He found herstanding on the back step, looking across the fields. The wash bench wasuntenanted. 

"Hum!" mused Ellery thoughtfully, "that was a good story of CaptainMayo's. This man Hammond must be a fine chap. I should like to meethim. "

Keziah still looked away over the fields. She did not wish her employerto see her face--just then. 

"I thought you would meet him, " she said. "He was here a little whileago and I asked him to wait. I guess Zeb's yarn was too much for him; hedoesn't like to be praised. "

"So? Was he here? At the Regular parsonage? I'm surprised. "

"He and I have known each other for a long while. "

"Well, I'm sorry he's gone. I think I should like him. "

Keziah turned from the door. 

"I know you would, " she said. 

CHAPTER VII

IN WHICH CAPTAIN NAT PICKS UP A DERELICT

It is probable that John Ellery never fully realized the debt ofgratitude he owed to the fog and the squall and to Captain Nat Hammond. Trumet, always hungry for a sensation, would have thoroughly enjoyedarguing and quarreling over the minister's visit to Come-Outer meeting, and, during the fracas, Keziah's parson might have been more or lessbattered. But Captain Nat's brilliant piloting of the old packet wasa bit of seamanship which every man and woman on that foam-borderedstretch of sand could understand and appreciate, and the minister'sindiscretion was all but forgotten in consequence. The "DailyAdvertisers" gloated over it, of course, and Captain Elkanah brought itup at the meeting of the parish committee, but there Captain Zeb Mayochampioned the young man's course and proclaimed that, fur's he wasconcerned, he was for Mr. Ellery more'n ever. "A young greenhornwith the spunk to cruise single-handed right into the middle of theCome-Outer school and give an old bull whale like Eben the gaff is theman for my money, " declared Zebedee. Most of his fellow-committee agreedwith him. "Not guilty, but don't do it again, " was the general verdict. 

As for the Come-Outers, they professed to believe that their leader hadmuch the best of the encounter, so they were satisfied. There was anote of triumph and exultation in the "testimony" given on the followingThursday night, and Captain Eben divided his own discourse betweenthankfulness for his son's safe return and glorification at thediscomfiture of the false prophets. Practically, then, the result ofEllery's peace overture was an increased bitterness in the feelingbetween the two societies and a polishing of weapons on both sides. 

Keziah watched anxiously for a hint concerning her parson's walk in therain with Grace, but she heard nothing, so congratulated herself thatthe secret had been kept. Ellery did not again mention it to her, norshe to him. A fortnight later he preached his great sermon on "TheVoyage of Life, " and its reference to gales and calms and lee shores andbreakers made a hit. His popularity took a big jump. 

He met Nat Hammond during that fortnight. The first meeting wasaccompanied by unusual circumstances, which might have been serious, butwere actually only funny. 

The tide at Trumet, on the bay side, goes out for a long way, leavinguncovered a mile and a half of flats, bare and sandy, or carpeted withseaweed. Between these flats are the channels, varying at low water fromtwo to four feet in depth, but deepening rapidly as the tide flows. 

The flats fascinated the young minister, as they have many anothervisitor to the Cape, before or since. On cloudy days they lowered witha dull, leaden luster and the weed-grown portions were like the darksquares on a checkerboard, while the deep water beyond the outer bar wassteely gray and angry. When the sun shone and the wind blew clear fromthe northwest the whole expanse flashed into fire and color, sapphireblue, emerald green, topaz yellow, dotted with white shells and ablazewith diamond sparkles where the reflected light leaped from the flintcrystals of the wet, coarse sand. 

The best time to visit the flats--tide serving, of course--is the earlymorning at sunrise. Then there is an inspiration in the wide expanse, asnap and tang and joy in the air. Ellery had made up his mind to take abefore-breakfast tramp to the outer bar and so arose at five, tucked aborrowed pair of fisherman's boots beneath his arm, and, without sayinganything to his housekeeper, walked down the lawn behind the parsonage, climbed the rail fence, and "cut across lots" to the pine grove on thebluff. There he removed his shoes, put on the boots, wallowed throughthe mealy yellow sand forming the slope of the bluff, and came out onthe white beach and the inner edge of the flats. Then he plashed on, bound out to where the fish weirs stood, like webby fences, in thedistance. 

It was a wonderful walk on a wonderful day. The minister enjoyed everyminute of it. Out here he could forget the petty trials of life, theDidamas and Elkanahs. The wind blew his hat off and dropped it in ashallow channel, but he splashed to the rescue and laughed aloud as hefished it out. It was not much wetter than it had been that night ofthe rain, when he tried to lend his umbrella and didn't succeed. Thisreflection caused him to halt in his walk and look backward toward theshore. The brown roof of the old tavern was blushing red in the firstrays of the sun. 

A cart, drawn by a plodding horse and with a single individual on itshigh seat, was moving out from behind the breakwater. Some fishermandriving out his weir, probably. 

The sand of the outer bar was dimpled and mottled like watered silk bythe action of the waves. It sloped gradually down to meet the miniaturebreakers that rolled over and slid in ripples along its edge. Ellerywandered up and down, picking up shells and sea clams, and peeringthrough the nets of the nearest weir at the "horsefoot crabs" and squidand flounders imprisoned in the pound. There were a few bluefish there, also, and a small school of mackerel. 

The minister had been on the bar a considerable time before he began tothink of returning to the shore. He was hungry, but was enjoying himselftoo well to mind. The flats were all his that morning. Only the cart andits driver were in sight and they were half a mile off. He looked athis watch, sighed, and reluctantly started to walk toward the town; hemustn't keep Mrs. Coffin's breakfast waiting TOO long. 

The first channel he came to was considerably deeper than when he fordedit on the way out. He noticed this, but only vaguely. The next, however, was so deep that the water splashed in at the top of one of his boots. He did notice that, because though he was not wearing his best clothes, he was not anxious to wet his "other ones. " The extent of his wardrobewas in keeping with the size of his salary. 

And the third channel was so wide and deep that he saw at once it couldnot be forded, unless he was willing to plunge above his waist. Thiswas provoking. Now he realized that he had waited too long. The tide hadbeen flowing for almost an hour; it had flowed fast and, as he shouldhave remembered, having been told, the principal channels were eightfeet deep before the highest flats were covered. 

He hurried along the edge, looking for a shallower place, but foundnone. At last he reached the point of the flat he was on and saw, tohis dismay, that here was the deepest spot yet, a hole, scoured out by acurrent like a mill race. Turning, he saw, creeping rapidly and steadilytogether over the flat behind him, two lines of foam, one from eachchannel. His retreat was cut off. 

He was in for a wetting, that was sure. However, there was no help forit, so he waded in. The water filled his boots there, it gurgled abouthis hips, and beyond, as he could see, it seemed to grow deeper anddeeper. The current was surprisingly strong; he found it difficult tokeep his footing in the soft sand. It looked as though he must swim forit, and to swim in that tide would be no joke. 

Then, from behind him, came a hail. He turned and saw moving toward himthrough the shallow water now covering the flat beyond the next channel, the cart he had seen leave the shore by the packet wharf, and, later, onthe outer bar. The horse was jogging along, miniature geysers spoutingbeneath its hoofs. The driver waved to him. 

"Hold on, mate, " he called. "Belay there. Stay where you are. I'll bealongside in a shake. Git dap, January!"

Ellery waded back to meet this welcome arrival. The horse plunged intothe next channel, surged through it, and emerged dripping. The driverpulled the animal into a walk. 

"Say, " he cried, "I'm cruisin' your way; better get aboard, hadn't you?There's kind of a heavy dew this mornin'. Whoa, Bill!"

"Bill" or "January" stopped with apparent willingness. The driver leaneddown and extended a hand. The minister took it and was pulled up to theseat. 

"Whew!" he panted. "I'm much obliged to you. I guess you saved me from aducking, if nothing worse. "

"Yes, " was the answer, "I wouldn't wonder if I did. This ain't Saturdaynight and 'twould be against Trumet principles to take a bath any othertime. All taut, are you? Good enough! then we'll get under way. " Heflapped the reins and added, "G'long, Julius Caesar!"

The horse, a sturdy, sedate beast to whom all names seemed to be alike, picked up his feet and pounded them down again. Showers of spray flewabout the heads of the pair on the seat. 

"I ain't so sure about that duckin', " commented the rescuer. "Hum! Iguess likely we'll be out of soundin's if we tackle that sink hole youwas undertakin' to navigate. Let's try it a little further down. "

Ellery looked his companion over. 

"Well, " he observed with a smile, "from what I've heard of you, CaptainHammond, I rather guess you could navigate almost any water in thislocality and in all sorts of weather. "

The driver turned in surprise. 

"So?" he exclaimed. "You know me, do you? That's funny. I was tryin' tolocate you, but I ain't been able to. You ain't a Trumetite I'll bet onthat. "

"Yes, I am. "

"Tut! tut! tut! you don't tell me. Say, shipmate, you hurt my pride. Idid think there wa'n't a soul that ever trod sand in this village that Icouldn't name on sight, and give the port they hailed from and the namesof their owners. But you've got me on my beam ends. And yet you knewME. "

"Of course I did. Everybody knows the man that brought the packet home. "

Nat Hammond sniffed impatiently. 

"Um--hm!" he grunted. "I cal'late everybody does, and knows a lot moreabout that foolishness than I do myself. If ever a craft was steeredby guess and by godfrey, 'twas that old hooker of Zach's t'other night. Well--Humph! here's another piece of pilotin' that bids fair to be amighty sight harder. Heave ahead, Hannibal! hope you've got your webfeet with you. "

They had moved along the edge of the flat a short distance and nowturned into the channel. The horse was wading above its knees; soon thewater reached its belly and began to flow into the body of the cart. 

"Pick up your feet, shipmate, " commanded Nat. "You may get rheumatiz ifyou don't. This'll be a treat for those sea clams back in that bucketamidships. They'll think I've repented and have decided to turn 'emloose again. They don't know how long I've been countin' on a sea-clampie. I'll fetch those clams ashore if I have to lug 'em with my teeth. Steady, all hands! we're off the ways. "

The cart was afloat. The horse, finding wading more difficult thanswimming, began to swim. 

"Now I'm skipper again, sure enough, " remarked Hammond. "Ain't gettin'seasick, are you?"

The minister laughed. 

"No, " he said. 

"Good! she keeps on a fairly even keel, considerin' her build. THEREshe strikes! That'll do, January; you needn't try for a record voyage. Walkin's more in your line than playin' steamboat. We're over the worstof it now. Say! you and I didn't head for port any too soon, did we?"

"No, I should say not. I ought to have known better than to wait outthere so long. I've been warned about this tide. I--"

"S-sh-sh! YOU ought to have known better! What do you think of me? Bornand brought up within sight and smell of this salt puddle and let myselfin for a scrape like this! But it was so mighty fine off there on thebar I couldn't bear to leave it. I always said that goin' to sea onland would be the ideal way, and now I've tried it. But you took biggerchances than I did. Are you a good swimmer?"

"Not too good. I hardly know what might have happened if you hadn't--"

"S-sh-sh! that's all right. Always glad to pick up a derelict, may be achance for salvage, you know. Here's the last channel and it's an easyone. There! now it's plain sailin' for dry ground. "

The old horse, breathing heavily from his exertions, trotted over thestretch of yet uncovered flats and soon mounted the slope of the beach. The minister prepared to alight. 

"Captain Hammond, " he said, "you haven't asked me my name. "

"No, I seldom do more'n once. There have been times when I'D just assoon cruise without too big letters alongside my figurehead. "

"Well, my name is Ellery. "

"Hey? WHAT? Oh, ho! ho! ho!"

He rocked back and forth on the seat. The minister's feelings were a bithurt, though he tried not to show it. 

"You mustn't mind my laughin', " explained Nat, still chuckling. "Itain't at you. It's just because I was wonderin' what you'd look like ifI should meet you and now--Ho! ho! You see, Mr. Ellery, I've heard ofyou, same as you said you'd heard of me. "

Ellery smiled, but not too broadly. 

"Yes, " he admitted, "I imagined you had. "

"Yes, seems to me dad mentioned your name once or twice. As much asthat, anyhow. Wonder what he'd say if he knew his son had been takin'you for a mornin' ride?"

"Probably that it would have been much better to have left me where youfound me. "

The captain's jolly face grew serious. 

"No, no!" he protested. "Not so bad as that. Dad wouldn't drown anybody, not even a Regular minister. He's a pretty square-built old craft, eventhough his spiritual chart may be laid out different from yours--andmine. "

"From yours? Why, I supposed--"

"Yes, I know. Well, WHEN I go to meetin', I generally go to the chapelto please father. But when it comes right down to a confession of faith, I'm pretty broad in the beam. Maybe I'd be too broad even for you, Mr. Ellery. "

The minister, who had jumped to the ground, looked up. 

"Captain Hammond, " he said, "I'm very glad indeed that I met you. Notalone because you helped me out of a bad scrape; I realize how bad itmight have been and that--"

"Shsh! shh! Nothin' at all. Don't be foolish. "

"But I'm glad, too, because I've heard so many good things about youthat I was sure you must be worth knowing. I hope you won't believe Iwent to your father's meeting with any--"

"No, no! Jumpin' Moses, man! I don't find fault with you for that. Iunderstand, I guess. "

"Well, if you don't mind the fact that I am what I am, I'd like to shakehands with you. "

Nat reached down a big brown hand. 

"Same here, " he said. "Always glad to shake with a chap as wellrecommended as you are. Yes, indeed, I mean it. You see, you've got afriend that's a friend of mine, and when she guarantees a man to be A. B. , I'll ship him without any more questions. "

"Well, then, good-by. I hope we shall meet again and often. And Icertainly thank you for--"

"That's all right. Maybe you'll fish ME out of the drink some day; younever can tell. So long! Git dap, Gen'ral Scott!"

He drove off up the beach, but before he turned the corner of thenearest dune he called back over his shoulder:

"Say, Mr. Ellery, if you think of it you might give my regardsto--to--er--the lady that's keepin' house for you. "

Breakfast had waited nearly an hour when the minister reached home. Keziah, also, was waiting and evidently much relieved at his safearrival. 

"Sakes alive!" she exclaimed, as she met him at the back door. "Where inthe world have you been, Mr. Ellery? Soakin' wet again, too!"

Ellery replied that he had been for a walk out to the bar. He sat downon the step to remove the borrowed boots. A small rivulet of salt waterpoured from each as he pulled them off. 

"For a walk! A swim, you mean. How could you get in up to your waist ifyou just walked? Did you fall down?"

"No, not exactly. But I waited too long and the tide headed me off. "

"Mercy on us! you mustn't take chances on that tide. If you'd told meyou was goin', I'd have warned you to hurry back. "

"Oh, I've been warned often enough. It was my own fault, as usual. I'mnot sure that I don't need a guardian. "

"Humph! well, I ain't sure either. Was the channels very deep?"

"Deep enough. The fact is, that I might have got into serious trouble ifI hadn't been picked up. "

He told briefly the story of his morning's adventure. The housekeeperlistened with growing excitement. 

"Heavens to Betsy!" she interrupted. "Was the channel you planned toswim the one at the end of the flat by the longest weir leader?"

"Yes. "

"My soul! there's been two men drowned in that very place at half tide. And they were good swimmers. After this I shan't dare let you out of mysight. "

"So? Was it as risky as that? Why, Captain Hammond didn't tell me so. Imust owe him more even than I thought. "

"Yes, I guess you do. He wouldn't tell you, though; that ain't his way. Deary me! for what we've received let us be thankful. And that remindsme that biscuits ought to be et when they're first made, not afterthey've been dried up on the back of the stove forever and ever amen. Go on and change those wet things of yours and then we'll eat. Tryin' toswim the main channel on the flood! My soul and body!"

"Captain Nat sent his regards to you, Mrs. Coffin, " said the minister, moving toward the stairs. 

"Did, hey?" was the housekeeper's reply. "Want to know!"

CHAPTER VIII

IN WHICH THE PARSON AND MR. PEPPER DECLARE THEIR INDEPENDENCE

That afternoon, when dinner was over, the Reverend John decided to makea few duty calls. The first of these he determined should be on thePeppers. Lavinia and her brother had called at the Parsonage severaltimes, but as yet he had not paid them a visit. It was not a ceremonyto which he looked forward with delight, but it must be performed. Miss Pepper had hinted several times, at sewing circle and after prayermeeting, of "partiality" and "only stoppin' in where they had fancycurtains up to the windows. " So, as it could not be put off longer, without causing trouble, he determined to go through with it. 

The Pepper house was situated just off the main road on the lane leadingover the dunes to the ocean and the light. It was a small building, itswhite paint dingy and storm beaten, and its little fenced-in frontyard dotted thickly with clumps of silver-leaf saplings. A sign, nailedcrookedly on a post, informed those seeking such information that withinwas to be found "Abishai G. W. Pepper, Tax Collector, Assessor, Bootsand Shoes Repaired. " And beneath this was fastened a shingle with thechalked notice, "Salt Hay for sale. "

The boot and shoe portion of the first sign was a relic of other days. Kyan had been a cobbler once, but it is discouraging to wait threeor four weeks while the pair of boots one has left to be resoled areforgotten in a corner. Captain Zeb Mayo's pointed comment, "I want myshoe leather to wear while I'm alive, not to be laid out in after I dieof old age, " expressed the general feeling of the village and explainedwhy custom had left Mr. Pepper and flown to the more enterprisingshoemaker at "The Corners. " The tax collectorship might have followedit, but here Lavinia kept her brother up to the mark. She went withhim on his rounds and it gave her opportunity to visit, and afterwardscomment upon, every family in town. 

The minister walked up the dusty lane, lifted the Pepper gate and swungit back on its one hinge, shooed away the three or four languid anddiscouraged-looking fowls that were taking a sun bath on the clam-shellwalk, and knocked at the front door. No one coming in answer to theknock, he tried again. Then he discovered a rusty bell pull and gave ita sharp tug. The knob came off in his hand and he hurriedly thrust itback again into its place. Evidently, that bell was solely for ornament. 

He came to the conclusion that no one was at home and felt a guiltysense of relief in consequence. But his conscience would not let himdepart without another try, so he clenched his fist and gave the crackeddoor panel a series of tremendous thumps. A thin black cat, which hadevidently been asleep beneath the step, burst from its concealment andfled in frantic terror. Then from somewhere in the rear of the housecame the sound of a human voice. 

"Hi!" it called faintly. "Whoever you be, don't bust that door down. Come round here. "

Ellery walked around the corner of the building. The voice came again. 

"Say!" it wailed, "why don't you answer? Be you comin'? If you're apeddler, you needn't. "

"I'm not a peddler, " was the minister's amused reply. 

"Oh, ain't ye? All right. Come along, then. "

Ellery "came along" as far as the angle where the ell joined the mainbody of the house. So far as he could see every door and window wasclosed and there were no signs of life. However, he stepped to the door, a green-painted affair of boards, and ventured another knock. 

"Don't start that poundin' again!" protested the voice. "Come round tot'other side where I be. "

So around went the Reverend John, smiling broadly. But even on "t'otherside" there was no one to be seen. And no door, for that matter. 

"Why!" exclaimed the voice, "if 'tain't Mr. Ellery! How d'ye do? Glad tosee you, Mr. Ellery. Fine day, ain't it? Here I be at this window. "

Sure enough; one of the windows on this side of the house was raisedabout six inches at the bottom, the shade was up, and peering beneaththe sash the minister discerned the expressive features of AbishaiPepper--or as much of those features as the size of the openingpermitted to be seen. 

"Oh!" exclaimed the visitor, "is that you, Mr. Pepper? Well, I'm glad tosee you, at last. You are rather hard to see, even now. "

Kyan was plainly embarrassed. He stammered as he answered. 

"Yes, " he agreed, "I--I shouldn't wonder if I be. How be you? Prettysmart?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm well. "

"Er--er--come to call, did you?"

"Why, yes, that was my intention. "

"Hum! Er--er--Laviny, she's gone over to Thankful Payne's. She heardthat Thankful's cousin up to Middleboro had died--passed away, Imean--and she thought she'd run over and find out if Thankful was willedanything. She said she'd be back pretty soon. "

"Very well. Then, as she won't be gone long, perhaps I'll come in andwait. "

He was moving away toward the corner when a shout from beneath thewindow sash brought him to a halt. 

"Hi!" called Abishai. "Hi, Mr. Ellery! don't go to that door. 'Tain't nouse; it's locked. "

"Locked? Well, you can unlock it, can't you?"

"No, not very well. That is, I--Mr. Ellery, come back here, won't ye? Idon't want anybody to hear. "

The house of the nearest neighbor being several hundred yards away, the likelihood of being overheard was improbable; but the minister cameback, nevertheless. 

"You see, Mr. Ellery, " stammered Kyan, "I--I'd like to have you come infust rate, but--er--Laviny she's got the key. "

Ellery was surprised. 

"She has!" he exclaimed. 

"Um--hm, she's got it. She took it with her. "

"But there are other doors. She didn't take them all, did she?"

"No--o, but--Well, the fact is, Mr. Ellery, I--I--I'm locked in. "

"Locked in?"

"Yes, locked in this room. She--she--Oh, consarn it all, Mr. Ellery, she's locked me in this room a-purpose, so's I won't get out and gosomewheres without her knowin' it. "

"What?"

"Um--h'm; that's what she's done. Did you ever hear of anything likethat in your born days?"

This surprising disclosure was funny enough, but the tone of grievedindignation in which Mr. Pepper told of his imprisonment was funnierstill. The minister coughed violently and looked the other way. 

"She done it a-purpose, " continued Kyan, in a burst of confidence. "Shehad me put one of them new-fangled spring locks on the door of this roomt'other day, 'cause she said she was afraid of tramps and wanted someplace to shut herself up in if one of em come. And--and after dinnerto-day she sent me in here for somethin' and then slammed the door onme. Said she cal'lated I'd stay put till she got back from Thankful's. She knew mighty well I couldn't get out of the window, 'cause it won'topen no further'n 'tis now. I wa'n't never so provoked in my life. 'Tain't no way to treat your own brother, lockin' him up like a youngone; now, is it?"

Ellery's reply was not made immediately. He had heard numerous storiesconcerning this odd household, some of which seemed too absurd forbelief. But this performance was more ridiculous than anything he hadheard. 

"'Tain't right, is it, Mr. Ellery?" demanded Kyan. 

"Why, " answered the caller chokingly, "I--I--it is rather unusual, that's a fact. May I ask what you've done to--"

"Done? I ain't done nothin'. She's so darned scared some other woman'llget my money that--you see, a month or so ago I--I--well, she thoughtI done somethin', or was plannin' to do somethin' that--Keziah Coffinnever told you anything about me, did she?"

"No, indeed. What could Mrs. Coffin tell me about you?"

"All right. Nothin', nothin'. Only if she did, tain't so. But I ain'tgoin' to stand it no more, Mr. Ellery. Bein' shut up in a darnedold--excuse my swearin', I didn't mean to, though I got reason enough, land knows--bein' shut up in a room full of trunks and odds and ends isgoin' too fur. I never want to smell old clothes ag'in long's I live. Would you stand it if you was me, Mr. Ellery?"

"Why, of course I mustn't interfere in your family matters, Mr. Pepper. Perhaps I'd better call some other time. Good afternoon. "

"Hold on! hold on! you ain't answered me yet. You're a minister and Igo to your meetin' house. Tell me what you'd do if you was me. Would youstand it?"

Ellery laughed aloud. 

"No, " he said, "I suppose I shouldn't. "

"I bet you wouldn't! What would you do?"

"I don't know. You're of age, Mr. Pepper, and you must decide foryourself. I think I should declare my independence. Really, I must go. I--"

"Don't be in such a hurry. I want advice. I need it. And, so fur'sDECLARIN' goes, that don't do me no good. She can declare more things ina minute than I can think of in a week. Tongue! I never heard--No, no!Never mind the declarin'. What would you DO? S'posin' you wanted to gooutdoor without havin' her tagged to your coat tails, how'd you stop thetaggin'?"

The absurdity of the affair was too much for the visitor. He roared a"Ha, ha!" that caused Abishai to wave a warning hand beneath the sash. 

"Ss-h-h! sshh!" he hissed. "Folks'll hear ye, and I'd be so ashamed ifthey did that I wouldn't dast to show my head. Can't show much of it, anyhow, just now. By gum! I'll do somethin' desperate. I--I dunno as Iwon't pizen her. I--"

"Hush! hush! you mustn't talk that way. I'm afraid you must be veryfascinating, Mr. Pepper. If your sister is so very fearful of yourmeeting other women, it must be because she has good reason to fear. "

"Stop your foolishness! Oh!--I--I ask your pardon, Mr. Ellery. Thatain't no way to talk to a minister. But I'm goin' to go out when I wantto if I bust a hole through the clapboards. I AIN'T fascinatin'. You askany woman--except her--if I be, and see what they say. What'll I DO?"

"Ha, ha! I don't know, I'm sure. You might lock HER up, I suppose, justfor a change. "

"Hey!" There was a sound from behind the pane as if the imprisoned onehad slapped his knee. "By gum! I never thought of that. Would you now, Mr. Ellery? Would you? Sshh! sshh! somebody's comin'. Maybe it's her. Run around to the door, Mr. Ellery, quick. And don't tell her I've seenyou, for mercy sakes! Don't now, will ye? Please! Run!"

The minister did not run, but he walked briskly around the corner. Sure enough, Lavinia was there, just unlocking the door. She expressedherself as very glad to see the caller, ushered him into the sittingroom and disappeared, returning in another moment with her brother, whomshe unblushingly said had been taking a nap. Abishai did not contradicther; instead, he merely looked apprehensively at the minister. 

The call was a short one. Lavinia did seven eighths of the talking andEllery the rest. Kyan was silent. When the visit was over, Miss Pepperescorted her guest to the door and bade him a voluble good-by. Overher shoulder the minister saw Kyan making frantic signs to him;he interpreted the signals as a request for secrecy concerning theinterview by the window. 

Several times during the remainder of that week he surprised hishousekeeper by suddenly laughing aloud when there was, apparently, nothing to laugh at. He explained these outbursts by saying that hehad thought of something funny. Keziah suggested that it must be mightyfunny to make him laugh in the middle of sermon writing. 

"I've heard sermons that were funny, " she said, "though they wasn'tintended to be; but what I've heard of yours ain't that kind. I wishyou'd let me in on the joke. I haven't been feelin' like laughin' forthe last fortni't. "

She had been rather grave and preoccupied, for her, of late. Bustlingand busy she always was, never sitting down to "rest, " as she called it, without a lap full of sewing. The minister's clothes were mended and hissocks darned as they had not been since his mother's day. And withhim, at meal times, or after supper in the sitting room, she was alwayscheerful and good-humored. But he had heard her sigh at her work, andonce, when she thought herself unobserved, he saw her wipe her eyes withher apron. 

"No, no, " she protested, when he asked if anything had gone wrong. "I'mall right. Got a little cold or somethin', I guess, that's all. "

She would not give any other explanation and absolutely refused to seethe doctor. Ellery did not press the matter. He believed the "cold" tobe but an excuse and wondered what the real trouble might be. It seemedto him to date from the evening of his chapel experience. 

He told no one, not even her, of Kyan's confidential disclosure, and, after some speculation as to whether or not there might be a sequel, putthe whole ludicrous affair out of his mind. He worked hard in his studyand at his pastoral duties, and was conscious of a pleasant feeling thathe was gaining his people's confidence and esteem. 

A week from the following Sunday he dined in state at the Daniels'stable. Captain Elkanah was gracious and condescending. Annabel was morethan that. She was dressed in her newest gown and was so very gushingand affable that the minister felt rather embarrassed. When, after themeal was over, Captain Elkanah excused himself and went upstairs forhis Sabbath nap, the embarrassment redoubled. Miss Annabel spoke veryconfidentially of her loneliness, without "congenial society, " ofhow VERY much she did enjoy Mr. Ellery's intellectual sermons, andespecially what a treat it had been to have him as a guest. 

"You must dine here every Sunday, " she said. "It will be no trouble atall, and if you say no, I shall feel that it is because you don't wantto see me--FATHER and me, of course, I mean. "

The minister didn't accept this pressing invitation; on the otherhand, he could not refuse it absolutely. He did not like Miss Danielsovermuch, but she was the daughter of his leading parishioner and sheand her parent did seem to like him. So he dodged the issue and said shewas very kind. 

He left the big house as soon as he could without giving offense, andstarted back toward the parsonage. But the afternoon was so fine and theearly summer air so delightful that he changed his mind and, jumping thefence at the foot of Cannon Hill, set off across the fields toward thebluffs and the bay shore. 

The sun was low in the west as he entered the grove of pines on thebluff. The red light between the boughs made brilliant carpet patternson the thick pine needles and the smell was balsamy and sweet. Betweenthe tree trunks he caught glimpses of the flats, now partially covered, and they reminded him of his narrow escape and of Nat Hammond, hisrescuer. He had met the captain twice since then, once at the store andagain on the main road, and had chatted with him. He liked him immenselyand wished he might count him as an intimate friend. But intimacybetween a Regular clergyman and the son of the leader of the Come-Outerswas out of the question. Partisans on both sides would shriek at theidea. 

Thinking of the Hammond family reminded him of another member of it. Notthat he needed to be reminded; he had thought of her often enough sinceshe ran away from him in the rain that night. And the picture in thedoorway was not one that he could forget--or wanted to. If she werenot a Come-Outer, he could meet her occasionally and they might becomefriends. She was a disconcerting young person, who lacked proper respectfor one of his profession and laughed when she shouldn't--but she wasinteresting, he admitted that. 

And then he saw her. She was standing just at the outer edge of thegrove, leaning against a tree and looking toward the sunset. She wore asimple white dress and her hat hung upon her shoulders by its ribbons. The rosy light edged the white gown with pink and the fringes of herdark hair were crinkly lines of fire. Her face was grave, almost sad. 

John Ellery stood still, with one foot uplifted for a step. The girllooked out over the water and he looked at her. Then a crow, one ofseveral whirling above the pines, spied the intruder and screamed awarning. The minister was startled and stepped back. A dead limb beneathhis foot cracked sharply. Grace turned and saw him. 

"Oh!" she cried. "Who is it?"

Ellery emerged from the shadow. 

"Don't be frightened, Miss Van Horne, " he said. "It is--er--I. "

This statement was neither brilliant nor original; even as anidentification it lacked considerable. 

"I?" repeated the girl. "Who? Oh! Why--"

The minister came forward. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Van Horne, " he stammered. "I'm afraid I frightenedyou. "

She was looking at him with a queer expression, almost as if shescarcely believed him real. 

"I hope--" he began again. She interrupted him. 

"No, " she said confusedly, "you didn't frighten me. I was a littlestartled when I saw you there behind me. It seemed so odd, because I wasjust thinking--No, I wasn't frightened. What is there to be frightenedof--in Trumet?"

He had extended his hand, but partially withdrew it, not sure how evensuch a perfunctory act of friendliness might be received. She saved himembarrassment by frankly offering her own. 

"Not much, that's a fact, " he said, in answer to her question. Hewould have liked to ask what she had been thinking that made his suddenappearance seem so odd. 

"You came to see the sunset, I suppose?" she said hurriedly, as if tohead off a question. "So did I. It is a beautiful evening for a walk, isn't it?"

She had said precisely the same thing on that other evening, when theystood in the middle of "Hammond's Turn-off" in the driving rain. Heremembered it, and so, evidently, did she, for she colored slightly andsmiled. 

"I mean it this time, " she said. "I'm glad you didn't get cold from yourwetting the other day. "

"Oh! I wasn't very wet. You wouldn't let me lend you the umbrella, so Ihad that to protect me on the way home. "

"Not then; I meant the other morning when Nat--Cap'n Hammond--met youout on the flats. He said you were wading the main channel and it wasover your boots. "

"Over my boots! Is that all he said? Over my head would be the plaintruth. To cross it I should have had to swim and, if what I've heardsince is true, I doubt if I could swim that channel. Captain Hammondhelped me out of a bad scrape. "

"Oh, no! I guess not. He said you were cruising without a pilot and hetowed you into port; that's the way he expressed it. "

"It was worse than that, a good deal worse. It might have been my lastcruise. I'm pretty certain that I owe the captain my life. "

She looked at him uncomprehendingly. 

"Your life?" she repeated. 

"I believe it. That part of the channel I proposed swimming was exactlywhere two men have been drowned, so people say. I'm not a very strongswimmer, and they were. So, you see. "

Grace cried out in astonishment. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Then pointing toward the bay, she asked: "Outthere, by the end of that leader, was it?"

"Yes, that was it. "

She drew a long breath. Then, after a moment:

"And Nat spoke as if it was all a joke, " she said. 

"No doubt he did. From what I hear of your brother, he generally refersto his own plucky, capable actions as jokes. Other people call themsomething else. "

She did not answer, but continued to gaze at the half-submerged"leader, " with the pine bough tied at its landward end to mark the edgeof deep water, and the tide foaming through its lath gratings. 

"Your brother--" went on the minister. 

"He isn't my brother, " she interrupted absently. "I wish he was. "

She sighed as she uttered the last sentence. 

"No, of course he isn't your real brother; I forgot. But he must seemlike one. "

"Yes, " rather doubtfully. 

"You must be proud of him. "

"I am. " There was nothing doubtful this time. 

"Well, he saved me from drowning. I'm almost certain of that. "

"I'm so glad. "

She seemed to mean it. He looked at her. 

"Thank you, " he said drily. "I'm rather glad myself. "

"Oh! I didn't mean it exactly that way. Of course I'm glad you weren'tdrowned, but I'm especially glad that--that one of our family saved you. Now you won't believe that Come-Outers are all bad. "

"I never believed it. "

She shook her head. 

"Oh, yes, you did, " she affirmed stubbornly. "You've heard nothing goodof us since you came here. Don't tell fibs, Mr. Ellery. "

"But I assure you--"

"Nonsense! Does--well, does Cap'n Daniels, or his daughter, say anythinggood of us? Be honest, do they?"

"I hardly think--that is, I shouldn't call their opinions unprejudiced. And, Miss Van Horne, perhaps the prejudice isn't all on one side. Whatdid your uncle say about Cap'n Nat's meeting me the other day?"

"Uncle Eben doesn't know. Nat didn't tell anyone but me. He doesn'tboast. And uncle would be glad he helped you. As I told you before, Mr. Ellery, I'm not ashamed of my uncle. He has been so good to me that Inever can repay him, never! When my own father was drowned he took mein, a little orphan that would probably have been sent to a home, andno father could be kinder or more indulgent than he has been. AnythingI asked for I got, and at last I learned not to ask for too much. Noself-denial on his part was too great, if he could please me. When heneeded money most he said nothing to me, but insisted that I should beeducated. I didn't know until afterwards of the self-sacrifice my fouryears at the Middleboro Academy meant to him. "

The minister had listened eagerly to this defense of the man whom he hadbeen led to consider his arch enemy. It was given with spirit and thegirl's head was uplifted and her eyes flashed as she spoke. Ellery'snext remark was uttered without premeditation. Really, he was thinkingaloud. 

"So you went away to school?" he mused. "That is why--"

"That is why I don't say 'never done nothin'' and 'be you' and'hain't neither. ' Yes, thank you, that's why. I don't wonder you weresurprised. "

The young man blushed. 

"You misunderstand me, " he protested. "I didn't mean--"

"Oh! yes, you did. Not precisely that, perhaps, but pretty near it. Isuppose you expected me to speak like Josiah Badger or Kyan Pepper. Itry not to. And I try not to say 'immejitly, ' too, " she added, with amischievous twinkle. 

Ellery recognized the "immejitly" quotation and laughed. 

"I never heard but one person say that, " he observed. "And he isn't aCome-Outer. "

"No, he isn't. Well, this lesson in English can't be very interestingto you, Mr. Ellery, and I must go. But I'm very glad Nat helped you theother day and that you realize the sort of man he is. And I'm glad Ihave had the opportunity to tell you more about Uncle Eben. I owe himso much that I ought to be glad--yes, glad and proud and happy, too, togratify his least wish. I must! I know I must, no matter how I--Whatam I talking about? Yes, Mr. Ellery, I'm glad if I have helped you tounderstand my uncle better and why I love and respect him. If you knewhim as I do, you would respect him, too. Good-by. "

She was going, but the minister had something to say. He stepped forwardand walked beside her. 

"Just a minute, please, " he urged. "Miss Van Horne, I do understand. Ido respect your uncle. We have a mutual friend, you and I, and throughher I have come to understand many things. "

Grace turned and looked at him. 

"A mutual friend?" she repeated. "Oh! I know. Mrs. Coffin?"

"Yes; Mrs. Coffin. She's a good woman and a wise one. "

"She's a dear! Do you like her, too?"

"Indeed, I do. "

"Has she told you about me--about uncle, I mean?"

"Yes. Why, she told me--"

He began to enumerate some of the things Keziah had told concerning theHammond family. They were all good things, and he couldn't help seeingthat the recital pleased her. So he went on to tell how his housekeeperhad helped him, of her advice, of her many acts of kindness, of whathe owed to her. The girl listened eagerly, asking questions, noddingconfirmation, and, in her delight at hearing Keziah praised, quiteforgetting her previous eagerness to end the interview. And, as hetalked, he looked at her, at the red light on her hair, the shine ofher eyes, like phosphorus in the curl of a wave at night, at her longlashes, and--

--"Yes, " said Miss Van Horne, "you were saying--"

The minister awoke with a guilty start. He realized that his sentencehad broken off in the middle. 

"Why! why--er--yes, " he stammered. "I was saying that--that I don't knowwhat I should have done without Mrs. Coffin. She's a treasure. Frankly, she is the only real friend I have found in Trumet. "

"I know. I feel the same way about her. She means so much to me. I loveher more than anyone else in the world, except uncle, of course--andNat. I miss her very much since--since--"

"Since I came, you mean. I'm sorry. I wish--I hate to think I am thecause which separates you two. It isn't my fault, as you know. "

"Oh! I know that. "

"Yes, and I object to having others choose my friends for me, peoplewho, because of a fanatical prejudice, stand in the way of--If it wasn'tfor that, you might call and see Mrs. Coffin, just as you used to do. "

Grace shook her head. They had moved on to the bend of the bluff, beyondthe fringe of pines, and were now standing at the very edge of the highbank. 

"If it wasn't for that, you would come, " asserted the minister. 

"Yes, I suppose so. I should like to come. I miss my talks with AuntKeziah more than you can imagine--now especially. But, somehow, what wewant to do most seems to be what we mustn't, and what we don't like isour duty. "

She said this without looking at him, and the expression on her face wasthe same sad, grave one he had noticed when he first saw her standingalone by the pine. 

"Why don't you come?" he persisted. 

"I can't, of course. You know I can't. "

"Why not? If my company is objectionable I can go away when you come. Ifyou dislike me I--"

"You know I don't dislike you personally. "

"I'm awfully glad of that. "

"But it's impossible. Uncle respects and is fond of Aunt Keziah, but hewouldn't hear of my visiting the parsonage. "

"But don't you think your uncle might be persuaded? I'm sure hemisunderstands me, just as I should him if it weren't for Mrs. Coffin--and what you've said. Don't you think if I called on him and heknew me better it might help matters? I'll do it gladly. I will!"

"No, no. He wouldn't listen. And think of your own congregation. "

"Confound my congregation!"

"Why, Mr. Ellery!"

She looked at him in amazement; then her lips began to curl. 

"Why, Mr. Ellery!" she repeated. 

The minister turned very red and drew his hand across his forehead. 

"I--I don't mean that exactly, " he stammered. "But I'm not a child. Ihave the right to exercise a man's discretion. My parish committee mustunderstand that. They shall! If I choose to see you--Look out!"

She was close to the overhanging edge of the bluff and the sod uponwhich she stood was bending beneath her feet. He sprang forward, caughther about the waist, and pulled her back. The sod broke and rattled downthe sandy slope. She would have had a slight tumble, nothing worse, hadshe gone with it. There was no danger; and yet the minister was verywhite as he released her. 

She, too, was pale for a moment, and then crimson. 

"Thank you, " she gasped. "I--I must go. It is late. I didn't realize howlate it was. I--I must go. "

He did not answer, though he tried to. 

"I must go, " she said hurriedly, speaking at random. "Good afternoon. Good-by. I hope you will enjoy your walk. "

"I have enjoyed it. " His answer was unstudied but emphatic. Sherecognized the emphasis. 

"Will you come to see Mrs. Coffin?" he asked. 

"No, no. You know I can't. Good-by. The sunset is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Beautiful, indeed. "

"Yes. I--I think the sunsets from this point are the finest I have everseen. I come here every Sunday afternoon to see them. "

This remark was given merely to cover embarrassment, but it had anunexpected effect. 

"You DO?" cried the minister. The next moment he was alone. Grace VanHorne had vanished in the gloom of the pine thickets. 

It was a strange John Ellery who walked slowly back along the path, onethat Keziah herself would not have recognized, to say nothing ofCaptain Elkanah and the parish committee. The dignified parson, withthe dignified walk and calm, untroubled brow, was gone, and here wasan absent-minded young fellow who stumbled blindly along, tripping overroots and dead limbs, and caring nothing, apparently, for the damage tohis Sunday boots and trousers which might result from the stumbles. Hesaw nothing real, and heard nothing, not even the excited person who, hidden behind the bayberry bush, hailed him as he passed. It was notuntil this person rushed forth and seized him by the arm that he cameback to the unimportant affairs of this material earth. 

"Why! Why, Mr. Pepper!" he gasped. "Are you here? What do you want?"

"Am I here?" panted Kyan. "Ain't I been here for the last twenty minuteswaitin' to get a chance at you? Ain't I been chasin' you from Danto Beersheby all this dummed--excuse me--afternoon? Oh, my godfreysmighty!"

"Why, what's the matter?"

"Matter? Matter enough! It's all your fault. You got me into the mess, now you git me out of it. "

Usually, when Abishai addressed his clergyman, it was in a tone ofhumble respect far different from his present frantic assault. TheReverend John was astounded. 

"What IS the trouble, Mr. Pepper?" he demanded. "Behave yourself, man. What IS it?"

"You--you made me do it, " gurgled Kyan. "Yes, sir, 'twas you put me upto it. When you was at our house t'other day, after Laviny locked me up, you told me the way to get square was to lock her up, too. And I doneit! Yes, sir, I done it when she got back from meetin' this noon. Irun off and left her locked in. And--and"--he wailed, wringing hishands--"I--I ain't dast to go home sence. WHAT'll I do?"

CHAPTER IX

IN WHICH MISS DANIELS DETERMINES TO FIND OUT

The hysterical Mr. Pepper doubtless expected his clergyman to be almostas much upset as he was by the news of his action. But John Ellery wasprovokingly calm. As a matter of fact he scarcely grasped the purport ofthe little man's disjointed story. He had been wandering in dreamland, his head among the clouds, and the explosion of Keziah's bomb disturbed, but did not clear the air. 

"What will you do?" he repeated. "Why--er--I don't know, I'm sure. "

Kyan was staggered. 

"You don't know?" he shouted. "YOU don't? Then who does, for the landsakes? Didn't you tell me to lock her up? Didn't I do it 'CAUSE you toldme? Didn't--didn't--"

He seemed to be on the verge of apoplexy. Also he had raised hisvoice to a yell. The minister seized him by the arm and shook him intosilence. 

"Hush! hush!" he commanded. "Wait a minute. Let me understand thisthing. Some one is locked up, you say. Who is it? Where--"

"WHO is it? Ain't I tellin' you. It's Laviny. She went into that spareroom where I was t'other day and I slammed the spring lock to on her. Then I grabbed the key and run. That was afore three this afternoon; nowit's 'most night and I ain't dast to go home. What'll she say when Ilet her out? I got to let her out, ain't I? She can't starve to death inthere, can she? And YOU told me to do it! YOU did! Oh--"

The apoplectic attack was once more imminent. 

"Stop it, Mr. Pepper, " ordered Ellery. "I don't remember telling youto lock your sister up, though--Why, yes, I may have said something orother, as a joke, but I didn't expect you would seriously consider doingsuch a thing. Ha, ha! This is the most idiotic piece of business that Iever--"

"Be you laughin'?" demanded the shocked Abishai. "LAUGHIN'? Why, mygodfreys mighty! Idiotic? Well, who's the idiot? 'Tain't me! I'D neverhave thought of such a fool trick. But you said--"

"Hush! Let me think. Have you told anybody?"

"TOLD anybody! I guess NOT. And nobody'll never know if they wait for meto tell 'em. "

"Well, then, I don't see why you can't go home and--hum--I don't liketo advise your telling a lie, but you might let her infer that it was anaccident. OR, if you really mean to be your own master, you can tell heryou did it purposely and will do it again if she ever tries the trick onyou. "

"I tell her that! I tell her! O Mr. Ellery, DON'T talk so. You don'tknow Laviny; she ain't like most women. If I should tell her thatshe'd--I don't know's she wouldn't take and horsewhip me. Or commitsuicide. She's said she would afore now if--if--"

"Nonsense! She won't do that, you needn't worry. " He burst into anotherlaugh, but checked himself, as he saw the look of absolute distress onpoor Kyan's face. 

"Never mind, Mr. Pepper, " he said. "We'll think of some plan to smoothmatters over. I'll go home with you now and we'll let her out together. "

"Will you, Mr. Ellery? Will you, honest? Say, by godfreys mighty, I'dget down on my knees and thank you this minute if--if I wa'n't in such ahurry. Come right on; come quick!"

It was a silent procession of two that wended its way out of the pinesand across the fields, by the brook and the pond, where the eveningmists were rising and the frogs chanting their good-night song, through the gathering twilight shades, across the main road and up thelighthouse lane. Kyan, his mind filled with fearful forebodings, wasbusily trying to think of a reasonable excuse for the "accidental"imprisonment of his sister. John Ellery was thinking, also, but histhoughts were not of the Peppers. 

The little house was dark and still as they approached it. No welcominglight in the dining-room windows, no open door, no shrill voicedemanding to know where the wandering brother had been "all thiseverlastin' time. " Even the hens had gone to roost. Abishai groaned. 

"Oh, dear!" he wailed. "I'm scart to death. Where is she? You don'tcal'late she's done it, do ye?"

"Done it? Done what?"

"Done the suicidin'. She said she would if--O Laviny!"

"Hush! Be quiet. She's all right. She's in the room where you left her, of course. She couldn't get out, could she? You've got the key. Comein. "

They entered the house. The dining room was dark and quiet. So was thesitting room. The clock ticked, solemn and slow. Kyan clutched at hiscompanion's arm. 

"I don't hear her, " he whispered. "You don't s'pose she HAS done it?Godfreys mighty!"

The gloom and mystery were having their effect, even on Mr. Ellery'snerves. His answer also was given in a tense whisper, but with someirritation. 

"Hush!" he murmured. "Let go of my wrist. You've pinched it black andblue. Which room did you leave her in? Show me at once. "

Kyan's trembling knees managed to carry him to the little hall leadingfrom the sitting room toward the ell at the side of the house. This hallwas almost pitch black. The minister felt his guide's chin whisker brushhis ear as the following sentence was literally breathed into it:

"Here--here 'tis, " panted Kyan. "Here's the door. I don't hear nothin', do you? Listen!"

They listened. Not a sound, save the dismal tick of the clock in theroom they had left. Ellery knocked on the door. 

"Miss Pepper, " he said; "Miss Pepper, are you there?"

Kyan caught his breath. No answer. 

"Miss Pepper, " repeated the minister. "Miss Pepper!"

Silence, absolute. Abishai could stand it no longer. He groaned andcollapsed on his knees. 

"She has!" he moaned. "She's done it and there ain't nothin' in therebut her remains. Oh, my soul!"

Ellery, now rather frightened himself, shook him violently. 

"Be quiet, you idiot!" he commanded. "We must go in. Give me the key. "

After repeated orders and accompanying shakings, Kyan produced a key. The minister snatched it from his trembling fingers, felt for thekeyhole and threw the door open. The little room was almost as dark asthe hall and quite as still. There was a distinct smell of old clothesand camphor. 

"A match, " demanded Ellery. "Quick!"

"I ain't got none, " quavered Mr. Pepper. "They're all in the box in thesettin' room. Oh, my godfreys mighty! What'll I do? What undertaker'll Ihave? Solon Tripp's the reg'lar one, but Laviny and he had a row andshe said she'd come back and ha'nt me if I ever let him touch herrema--Where you goin'? DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!"

The minister was going after a match, and said so. In a moment hereturned with several. One of these he lit. The brimstone sputtered, burned blue and fragrant, then burst into a yellow flame. 

The little room was empty. 

John Ellery drew a breath of relief. Then he laughed. 

"Humph!" he exclaimed. "She's gone. "

"GONE? Why, she ain't nuther! Where could she go?"

"I don't know, but she has gone--somewhere. At any rate, she's nothere. "

Kyan rose to his feet. His alarm had changed to paralyzed astonishment. 

"How could she go?" he repeated. "That window won't open more'n sixinches. Laviny ain't what you'd call fleshy, but she never could squeezethrough that in this world. And I locked the door, 'cause I heard theclick. I--I--I--do you b'lieve in spirits, Mr. Ellery?"

"Nonsense! Come into the sitting room, light a lamp, and let's talk itover. "

The lamp was found and lighted at last. Its radiance brightened thedingy sitting room. 

"Do you b'lieve in spirits?" repeated Kyan. "I've heard yarns aboutfolks bein' spirited away, but I never took much stock in 'em. And, "he added with conviction, "'twould take a pretty husky spirit to handleLaviny if she had her mad up. She--Hush! hear that!"

The sound of wheels was heard in the lane by the front gate. A vehiclestopped. Then some one called a hurried good night. Mr. Pepper's fearreturned. 

"It's her!" he cried. "She's been ahuntin' for me. NOW I'll get it!You stand by me, Mr. Ellery. You got to. You said you would. But how onearth did she get--"

The minister motioned him to silence. 

"I'll stand by you, " he whispered. "Don't speak. Leave it to me. "

A step sounded on the back step. The dining-room door was hurriedlythrown open. 

"'Bishy, " called Miss Pepper eagerly. "'Bish, where are you?"

"Here--here I be, Laviny, " faltered Kyan. 

His sister appeared on the threshold. She was dressed in her Sundaybest, flowered poke bonnet, mitts, imitation India shawl, rustling blackbombazine gown. She looked at Mr. Pepper then at the minister. 

"O Mr. Ellery!" she exclaimed, "be you here?"

The Reverend John admitted his presence. Miss Pepper's demeanorsurprised him. She did not seem angry; indeed, she acted embarrassed andconfused, as if she, and not her brother, were the guilty party. 

"I'm afraid I'm awful late, 'Bishy, " she said. "Have you had yoursupper?"

Kyan was too perturbed to venture a reply. The sword above his head wasquivering on its single hair and he was preparing to dodge the fall. Butit did not fall. 

"You haven't had any supper, have you?" purred Miss Pepper pityingly. "It's too bad. You poor thing! you must be awful hungry. "

She moved across the room and kissed him. Abishai, who had preparedhimself for a different sort of greeting, clutched his chair with bothhands. He looked as if he might faint. The minister gazed open-mouthed. 

"I'm awful sorry, Mr. Ellery, " gushed Lavinia, removing the bonnet. "Yousee, I was invited out to ride this afternoon and--and--I went. "

She glanced at her brother, reddened--yes, almost blushed--andcontinued. 

"You know, 'Bishy, " she said "Thankful Payne's cousin's home avisitin'her. He come about that cousin's will--the other cousin that's justdied. He's a reel nice man--her live cousin is--keeps a shoe store upto Sandwich, and I used to know him years ago. When I was over toThankful's t'other day, him and me had quite a talk. We got speakin' ofwhat nice drives there was around Trumet and--and--er--well, he asked meif I wouldn't like to go to ride next Sunday afternoon--that's to-day. And a ride bein' a good deal of a treat to me, I said I would. Thankfulwas goin', too, but--er--er--she couldn't very well. So Caleb--that'shis name, you remember, 'Bishy--he come round with his horse and teamabout ha'f past three and we started. But I'd no IDEE 'twas so late. I--I--meant to tell you I was goin', 'Bish, but I forgot. "

Kyan had listened to this recital, or explanation, or apology, with acurious succession of expressions passing over his face. He swallowedtwo or three times, but did not interrupt. 

"I'm so sorry I kept you waitin' supper, " gushed Lavinia. "I'll get youa good one now. Oh, well, deary me! I must be gettin' absent-minded. Iain't asked you where you've been all the afternoon. "

Abishai's eyes turned beseechingly toward his promised backer. Ellerycould not resist that mute appeal. 

"Your brother has been with me for some time, Miss Pepper, " hevolunteered. 

"Oh, has he? Ain't that nice! He couldn't have been in better comp'ny, I'm sure. But oh, say, 'Bishy! I ain't told you how nigh I come to notgettin' out at all. Just afore Mr. Payne come, I was in that spare roomand--you remember I put a spring lock on that door?"

It was here at last. The long-dreaded explosion was imminent. Kyan'schin shook. He braced himself for the blow. The minister prepared tocome to the rescue. 

"Yes, " went on Lavinia. "I--I put a lock on that door so's I--I couldshut the room up when I wanted to. Well, when I was in there thisafternoon the wind blew the door shut and--Hey?"

"I--I never said nothin', " panted Kyan. 

"Yes, it blew to, the lock clicked, and there I was. If I hadn't had theother key in my pocket I don't know's I wouldn't have been in there yet. That would have been a pretty mess, wouldn't it! He! he! he!"

She laughed shrilly. The minister looked at her, then at her brother, and he, too, burst into a shout of laughter. Kyan did not laugh; yet hisgrip upon the chair relaxed, and over his countenance was spreading alook of relief, of hope and peace, like a clear sunrise after a stormynight. 

"Well, I must go and get supper, " declared Lavinia. "You'll forgive mefor leavin' you so, won't you, 'Bishy?"

Mr. Pepper sighed. 

"Yes, " he said slowly. "I'll forgive you, Laviny. "

"I knew you would. I hope you ain't been too lonesome. Did you miss me?Was you worried?"

"Hey? Yes, I--I missed you consider'ble. I WAS gettin' sort of worried. I didn't s'pose you'd go off to ride with--with a feller and leave meall alone. But I forgive you. " He stopped, drew his hand across hisforehead, and then added, "I s'pose I hadn't ought to complain. MaybeI'd better get used to it; I guess likely this is only the beginnin'. "

Lavinia blushed furiously. 

"Why, 'Bish!" she exclaimed. "How you do talk! Ain't he awful, Mr. Ellery?"

The Reverend John did not answer. He could not trust himself to speakjust then. When he did it was to announce that he must be getting towardhome. No, he couldn't stay for supper. 

Miss Pepper went into the kitchen, and Abishai saw the visitor to thedoor. Ellery extended his hand and Kyan shook it with enthusiasm. 

"Wa'n't it fine?" he whispered. "Talk about your miracles! Godfreysmighty! Say, Mr. Ellery, don't you ever tell a soul how it really was, will you?"

"No, of course not. "

"No, I know you won't. You won't tell on me and I won't tell on you. That's a trade, hey?"

The minister stopped in the middle of his step. 

"What?" he said, turning. 

Mr. Pepper merely smiled, winked, and shut the door. John Elleryreflected much during his homeward walk. 

The summer in Trumet drowsed on, as Trumet summers did in those days, when there were no boarders from the city, no automobiles or telephonesor "antique" collectors. In June the Sunday school had its annualpicnic. On the morning of the Fourth of July some desperate spiritsamong the younger set climbed in at the church window and rang the bell, in spite of the warning threats of the selectmen, who had gone on recordas prepared to prosecute all disturbers of the peace to the "full extentof the law. " One of the leading citizens, his name was Daniels, awoke tofind the sleigh, which had been stored in his carriage house, hoisted tothe roof of his barn, and a section of his front fence tastefully drapedabout it like a garland. The widow Rogers noticed groups of peoplelooking up at her house and laughing. Coming out to see what they werelaughing at, she was provoked beyond measure to find a sign over thefront door, announcing "Man Wanted Imediate. Inquire Within. " The doorof the Come-Outer chapel was nailed fast and Captain Zeb Mayo's oldwhite horse wandered loose along the main road ringed with painted blackstripes like a zebra. Captain Zeb was an angry man, for he veneratedthat horse. 

The storm caused by these outbreaks subsided and Trumet settled intoits jog trot. The stages rattled through daily, the packet came and wentevery little while, occasionally a captain returned home from a longvoyage, and another left for one equally long. Old Mrs. Prince, up atthe west end of the town, was very anxious concerning her son, whoseship was overdue at Calcutta and had not been heard from. The ministerwent often to see her and tried to console, but what consolation isthere when one's only child and sole support is nobody knows where, drowned and dead perhaps, perhaps a castaway on a desert island, oradrift with a desperate crew in an open boat? And Mrs. Prince would say, over and over again:

"Yes, yes, Mr. Ellery. Thank you. I'm sure you mean to encourage me, butoh, you don't know the things that happen to seafarin' men. I do. I wentto sea with my husband for fourteen year. He died on a voyage and theyburied him over the vessel's side. I can't even go to his grave. The seagot him, and now if it's taken my Eddie--"

The young clergyman came away from these calls feeling very young, indeed, and woefully inadequate. What DID he know of the great sorrowsof life?

The Sunday dinners with the Daniels family were almost regular weeklyfunctions now. He dodged them when he could, but he could not do sooften without telling an absolute lie, and this he would not do. And, regularly, when the solemn meal was eaten, Captain Elkanah went upstairsfor his nap and the Reverend John was left alone with Annabel. MissDaniels did her best to be entertaining, was, in fact, embarrassinglyconfidential and cordial. It was hard work to get away, and yet, somehowor other, at the stroke of four, the minister always said good-by andtook his departure. 

"What is your hurry, Mr. Ellery?" begged Annabel on one occasion whenthe reading of Moore's poems had been interrupted in the middle by theguest's sudden rising and reaching for his hat. "I don't see why youalways go so early. It's so every time you're here. Do you call at anyother house on Sunday afternoons?"

"No, " was the prompt reply. "Oh, no. "

"Then why can't you stay? You know I--that is, pa and I--would LOVE tohave you. "

"Thank you. Thank you. You're very kind. But I really must go. Goodafternoon, Miss Daniels. "

"Mrs. Rogers said she saw you going across the fields after you lefthere last Sunday. Did you go for a walk?"

"Er--er--yes, I did. "

"I wish you had mentioned it. I love to walk, and there are SO fewpeople that I find congenial company. Are you going for a walk now?"

"Why, no--er--not exactly. "

"I'm sorry. GOOD-by. Will you come again next Sunday? Of COURSE youwill. You know how dreadfully disappointed I--we--shall be if youdon't. "

"Thank you, Miss Daniels. I enjoyed the dinner very much. Goodafternoon. "

He hurried down the path. Annabel watched him go. Then she did an oddthing. She passed through the sitting room, entered the front hall, wentup the stairs, tiptoed by the door of her father's room, and then upanother flight to the attic. From here a steep set of steps led to thecupola on the roof. In that cupola was a spyglass. 

Annabel opened a window a few inches, took the spyglass from its rack, adjusted it, laid it on the sill of the open window and knelt, the glassat her eye. The floor of the cupola was very dusty and she was wearingher newest and best gown, but she did not seem to mind. 

Through the glass she saw the long slope of Cannon Hill, with the beaconat the top and Captain Mayo's house near it. The main road was desertedsave for one figure, that of her late caller. He was mounting the hillin long strides. 

She watched him gain the crest and pass over it out of sight. Then sheshifted the glass so that it pointed toward the spot beyond the curveof the hill, where the top of a thick group of silver-leafs hid theparsonage. Above the tree tops glistened the white steeple of theRegular church. If the minister went straight home she could not seehim. But under those silver-leafs was the beginning of the short cutacross the fields where Didama had seen Mr. Ellery walking on theprevious Sunday. 

So Annabel watched and waited. Five minutes, then ten. He must havereached the clump of trees before this, yet she could not see him. Evidently, he had gone straight home. She drew a breath of relief. 

Then, being in a happier frame of mind, and the afternoon clear andbeautiful, she moved the glass along the horizon, watching the distantwhite specks across the bay on the Wellmouth bluffs--houses andbuildings they were--the water, the shore, the fish weirs, the pinegroves. She became interested in a sloop, beating into Wellmouth harbor, and watched that. After a time she heard, in the house below, her fathershouting her name. 

She gave the glass one more comprehensive sweep preparatory to closingit and going downstairs. As she did this a moving speck came into viewand vanished. 

Slowly she moved the big end of the spyglass back along the arc it hadtraveled. She found the speck and watched it. It was a man, stridingacross the meadow land, a half mile beyond the parsonage, and hurryingin the direction of the beach. She saw him climb a high dune, jump afence, cross another field and finally vanish in the grove of pines onthe edge of the bluff by the shore. 

The man was John Ellery, the minister. Evidently, he had not gone home, nor had he taken the short cut. Instead he had walked downtown a longway and THEN turned in to cross the fields and work his way back. 

Annabel put down the glass and, heedless of her father's calls, satthinking. The minister had deliberately deceived her. More than that, hehad gone to considerable trouble to avoid observation. Why had he doneit? Had he done the same thing on other Sunday afternoons? Was thereany real reason why he insisted on leaving the house regularly at fouro'clock?

Annabel did not know. Her eyes snapped and her sharp features lookedsharper yet as she descended the steps to the attic. She did not know;but she intended to find out. 

CHAPTER X

IN WHICH KEZIAH'S TROUBLES MULTIPLY

Keziah was getting worried about her parson. Not concerning hispopularity with his congregation. She had long since ceased to worryabout that. The young minister's place in his people's regard was nowassured, the attendance was increasing, and the Regular church wasnow on a firmer footing, financially and socially, than it had beenin years. Even Mrs. Rogers and Lavinia Pepper had ceased to criticise, except as pertained to unimportant incidentals, and were now among theloudest of the praise chanters. And as Captain Zeb Mayo said: "WhenDidama and Laviny stops fault-findin', the millennium's so nigh port afeller ought to be overhaulin' his saint uniform. "

But what worried Mrs. Coffin was John Ellery's personal appearance andbehavior. He had grown perceptibly thinner during the past month, hismanner was distrait, and, worst of all in the housekeeper's eyes, hisappetite had fallen off. She tried all sorts of tempting dishes, but theresult was discouraging. 

"What!" she exclaimed. "Don't want but one piece of huckleberry pie?Why, a week ago you ate three and looked kind of disappointed 'cause thedish was empty. What is the matter? Are you sick?"

"No, Mrs. Coffin, " replied the Reverend John. "No, I'm not sick. I justdon't feel hungry, that's all. "

"Hum! Well, I've usually noticed that when a healthy man don't feelhungry at dinner time, 'specially in the huckleberry season, hishealthiness is pretty shaky. What does ail you, Mr. Ellery? Gotsomethin' on your mind? If you have, I'd heave it overboard. Or youmight unload it onto me and let me prescribe. I've had consider'bleexperience in that kind of doctorin'. "

But the answer was unsatisfactory. Mr. Ellery laughed, changed thesubject, and wandered out into the garden, where Keziah saw him, shortlyafterwards, intently regarding nothing in particular with a rapt stare. She watched him for a few moments and then, with a puzzled shake ofthe head, returned to her work. She believed that he was troubled aboutsomething and was herself troubled in consequence. 

His absent-mindedness was most acute on Sunday evenings, before prayermeeting, and after he had returned from the afternoon at CaptainElkanah's. 

"Say, Mr. Ellery, " she said, on one of these Sunday evenings, "do youknow, it seems to me that Elkanah's meals must go to your head. Don'thave any of his granddad's New England rum, do you? They tell me he'sgot some of that down cellar that he doles out occasional to hisvery particular friends. That's the common yarn around town, though Icouldn't swear 'twas gospel. "

The minister smiled and denied acquaintanceship with the New Englandbeverage. 

"Humph! Then it must be the other thing. You ain't in love, are you?"

The young man started, colored, and was plainly embarrassed. 

"In love?" he repeated. "In love, Mrs. Coffin?"

"Yes, in love. Annabel hasn't landed a male at last, has she? She's aline over the side for a long time. "

The hearty laugh with which this was received settled the question ofAnnabel's success. Keziah was relieved. 

"Well, I'm glad of that, " she said. "I ain't got any grudge againstAnnabel, but neither have I got one against you. Another man in thatfamily would have an easy time in one way, he wouldn't have to do anythinkin' for himself--Elkanah and his daughter would do all that wasnecessary. So you're not in love. Then I don't know what does ail you. I'll say this, though, for a body that ain't in love you certainly staywith the Danielses a long time. You went there right after meetin' thisnoon and now it's seven o'clock and you've just got home. And 'twas thesame last Sunday and the one before. Been there all the time, have you?"

She knew he had not, because she had seen him pass the parsonage, onthe opposite side of the road, two hours before. But she was curious tolearn what his reply would be. It was noncommittal. 

"No, " he said slowly. "Not all the time. I--er--went for a short walk. "

Before she could inquire concerning that walk he had entered the studyand closed the door after him. 

During the week which followed this particular conversation he was moreabsent-minded than ever. There were evenings when he spoke scarcely aword, but sat silent in his chair, while Keziah, looking up from hermending, watched him and guessed and wondered. After he had gone to hisroom for the night, she would hear him pacing the floor, back and forth, back and forth. She asked no more questions, however; minding her ownbusiness was a specialty of Keziah's, and it was a rare quality inTrumet. 

Sunday was a cloudy, warm day, "muggy, " so Captain Zeb described it. After the morning service Mr. Ellery, as usual, went home with CaptainDaniels and Annabel. Keziah returned to the parsonage, ate a lonelydinner, washed the dishes, and sat down to read a library book. Sheread for an hour and then, finding it difficult to keep her mind on thestory, gave it up, closed the book and, rising, walked to the window. But the misty, hot loneliness of the afternoon, was neither interestingnor cheerful, so she turned away and went upstairs to her own room. Hertrunk was in one corner of this room and she unlocked it, taking froma compartment of the tray a rosewood writing case, inlaid withmother-of-pearl, a present from her father, who had brought it home fromsea when she was a girl. 

From the case she took a packet of letters and a daguerreotype. Thelatter was the portrait of a young man, in high-collared coat, stock, and fancy waistcoat. His hair, worn long over the ears, was smooth witha shine that suggested oil, and in his shirt front was a large pin, which might possibly have been mistaken by a credulous observer for adiamond. Mrs. Coffin looked at the daguerreotype, sighed, shuddered, andlaid it aside. Then she opened the packet of letters. Selecting one fromthe top of the pile, she read it slowly. And, as she read, she sighedagain. 

She did not hear the back door of the parsonage open and close softly. Nor did she hear the cautious footsteps in the rooms below. What arousedher from her reading was her own name, spoken at the foot of the stairs. 

"Keziah! Keziah, are you there?"

She started, sprang up, and ran out into the hall, the letter still inher hand. 

"Who is it?" she asked sharply. "Mr. Ellery, is that you?"

"No, " was the answer. "It's me--Nat. Are you busy, Keziah? I want to seeyou for a minute. "

The housekeeper hurriedly thrust the letter into her waist. 

"I'll be right down, Nat, " she answered. "I'm comin'. "

He was in the sitting room when she entered. He was wearing his Sundaysuit of blue and his soft felt hat was on the center table. She held outher hand and he shook it heartily. 

"Well!" she observed, smiling, "I declare if I don't believe you've gotthe tiptoe habit. This is the second time you've sneaked into the houseand scared me 'most to death. I asked you before if you wa'n't ashamedof yourself and now I ask it again. "

Before he could reply she caught a glimpse of his face. 

"What is it?" she asked. "What is the matter? Is anybody sick? Is yourfather--"

"No, he's all right. That is, he's as well as he has been lately, thoughthat isn't sayin' much. "

"Is Grace--"

"No, she's all right, too, I guess. Been sort of quiet and sorrowfulfor the last few weeks--or I've seemed to notice that she has--butI cal'late it's nothin' serious. I wouldn't wonder if the same thingthat's troublin' her is what ails me. "

"But what is it? Why don't you tell me?"

"I'm goin' to tell you, Keziah. That's what I come here for. I--"

"Sit down, can't you? Don't stand up there like a lighthouse, shuttin'out the whole broadside of the room. You are the BIGGEST thing!"

Captain Hammond selected the most substantial chair in the apartment andsat down upon it. He looked at his friend and shook his head. 

"No use, Keziah, " he said. "If I was as deep down in the blues as thebottom of the Whale Deep, a look at that face of yours would pull me tothe top again. You're a good woman!"

"Thanks! When I have spare time on my hands I'll practice tryin' tobelieve that. But what is the trouble, Nat? Out with it. "

"Well, Keziah, it's trouble enough. Dad and I have had a fallin' out. "

Mrs. Coffin's mouth and eyes opened. 

"What?" she cried, in utter astonishment. 

"Yes. It's true. We had what was next door to a real quarrel afterdinner to-day. It would have been a real one if I hadn't walked off andleft him. He's as set as the rock of Gibraltar, and--"

"And your foundations ain't given to slippin' much. Nat Hammond, I'msurprised at you! What was it all about? Religion?"

"No, not a sliver of religion in it. If 'twas that, I could dodge, orhaul down my colors, if I had to. But it's somethin' worse, enough sightworse. Somethin' I can't do--even for dad--and won't either. Keziah, he's dead set on my marryin' Grace. Says if I don't he'll know thatI don't really care a tin nickel for him, or for his wishes, or whatbecomes of the girl after he's gone. "

"Nat!"

"It's a fact. You see, dad realizes, better'n I thought he did, that hishealth is pretty shaky and that he is likely to founder 'most any time. He says that don't worry him; if he knew Grace and I were provided forhe'd slip his cable with a clean manifest. But the dream of his life, hesays, has been that we should marry. And he wants to see it done. "

Keziah was silent for a moment. Then she said slowly:

"And Grace herself? How does she feel about it? Has he spoken to her?"

"I don't know. I guess likely he has. Perhaps that's why she's been sosort of mournful lately. But never mind whether he has or not; I won'tdo it and I told him so. He got red hot in a jiffy. I was ungrateful andstubborn and all sorts of things. And I, bein' a Hammond, with some ofthe Hammond balkiness in me, I set my foot down as hard as his. And wehad it until--until--well, until I saw him stagger and tremble so that Iactually got scared and feared he was goin' to keel over where he stood. 

"'Why can't you?' he kept sayin'. 'But WHY can't you? Ain't she a girlanyone would be proud to have for a wife?' 'Course there was no answerto that but yes. Then back he comes again with 'Then why can't you?' Atlast, bein' frightened, as I said, that he might have another shock orsomethin', I said I'd think it over and come away and left him. And Icome straight to you. Keziah, what shall I do? What can you say to helpme?"

Keziah was silent. She was looking, not at her companion, but at thecarpet center of one of the braided rugs on the floor. Her face was verygrave and the lines about her mouth seemed to deepen. Her hands, claspedin her lap, tightened one upon the other. But her voice was calm when, at last, she spoke. 

"Nat, " she said, "there's only one thing I can say. And that's what yourfather said: Why can't you?"

The captain sprang from his chair. 

"What?" he cried incredulously. "What are you sayin'?"

"Just what your father said, Nat. Why can't you marry Grace? She's adear, good girl and--"

"That be--keelhauled! Keziah Coffin, you sit there and ask me why Ican't marry her! YOU do?"

"Yes, Nat. "

"Keziah, you're crazy! Don't talk to me like that. We're not jokin' now. You know why I can't marry her, nor anyone else in this round world butyou. "

"Nat, I can't marry you. "

"I know, I know. You're always sayin' that. But you don't mean it. Youcan't mean it. Why, you and me have been picked out for each other bythe Almighty, Keziah. I swear I believe just that. We went together whenwe were boy and girl, to parties and such. We was promised when I firstwent to sea. If it hadn't been for that fool row we had--and 'twas allmy fault and I know it--you never would have let that da--that miserableAnse Coffin come near you. And when 'twas too late and you'd marriedhim, the mean, drunken, cruel--"

"Hush, Nat! hush! Stop it!"

"He was, and you know he was. Yes, and worse besides. Runnin' off andleavin' a wife like you to--Oh, my God! when I think I might have beenyour husband to look out for you and take care of you! That youmight have been with me on board my ships. That, when I come down thecompanion on stormy nights I might have found you there to comfort meand--O Keziah! we aren't young any more. What's the use of foolin'? Iwant you. I'm goin' to have you. Coffin is dead these ten years. When Iheard he was drowned off there in Singapore, all I could say was: 'Servehim right!' And I say it now. I come home then more determined to getyou. Say yes, and let's be happy. Do!"

"I can't, Nat. "

"Why not? For Heaven sakes! why not? Don't you care for me? You've letme think--well, at any rate, I have thought you did. You used to. Don'tyou?"

"Nat, I--I care for you more than anybody else on earth. But I can'tmarry you. Oh, don't keep askin' it! Please don't. I can't marry you, Nat. No!"

"Well, not now, maybe. Not this month, or even this year, perhaps, butsome day--"

"No, Nat. You must listen. There's no use of this goin' on any longer. Imean it. I can't marry you. "

"You won't, you mean. "

"Well, if you wish to think so. Then I won't. "

"But by and by--"

"No, not by and by. Never, Nat. Never. "

He drew his hand across his forehead. 

"Never!" he repeated, more to himself than to her. 

"Never. Yes, Nat. "

"Then, by the everlastin'! I'll do somethin'--"

"No, no, you won't. Nat Hammond, I know you. You're a great big, brave-hearted, sensible man. You won't be foolish. You'll do--yes, Ithink you'd better do just what your father asks you to do. Marry Grace, if she wants you and will have you. She'll make you a good wife; you'lllearn to care for her, and I know she'll have the best husband that agirl could hope for. And you and I will be friends, just as we've alwaysbeen, and--"

"Keziah, stop that! Stop it, do you hear! I don't want to listen to suchstuff. I tell you I'm past soft soap, and I didn't think you'd give itto me. "

"Nat!"

"Oh, yes, 'Nat'! A lot you care for 'Nat'! Not a reason on God'sfootstool why you won't have me--except one, and that one that you don'twant me. "

"Please, Nat! I can hardly believe this is you. This trouble with yourfather has upset you. You don't mean what you say. You're not talkin'like yourself and--"

"Stop it, I tell you. I don't feel like myself. I banked on you, Keziah. I've lived for you. And now--O Keziah, take it back! Give me a littlehope, just enough to keep my head above water. "

"I'd like to, Nat. I only wish I could. But 'twouldn't be any use. Ican't do it. "

He snatched his hat from the table and strode to the door. Turning, helooked at her. 

"All right, " he said chokingly. "All right. Good-by. "

His steps sounded on the oilcloth of the kitchen. Then the back doorslammed. He was gone. 

Keziah started, as if the slam of the door had been an electric shock. During the interview she had been pale and grave but outwardly calm. Nowshe sank wearily down in the chair from which she had risen and herhead dropped forward upon her arms on the table. The letter she had beenreading before Captain Nat's arrival fell from her waist to the floorand lay there, its badly spelled and blotted lines showing blackand fateful against the white paper. And she cried, tears of utterloneliness and despair. 

The clouds thickened as the afternoon passed. The setting sun washidden behind them; over the horizon of ocean and bay the fog banks wererolling in tumbled, crumpled masses. The shadows in the lonely sittingroom deepened. There came a knock at the dining-room door. 

Keziah sprang from her chair, smoothed her hair, hastily wiped her eyes, picked up the dropped letter and went to admit the visitor, whoever heor she might be. She was glad of the shadows, they prevented her facefrom being seen too plainly. 

"Good afternoon, " she said, opening the door. "Oh! it's you, is it?"

"Yes, " admitted Abishai Pepper, standing on the stone step, and shiftinguneasily from one foot to the other. "Yes, Keziah, it's--it's me, thankyou. "

"Don't mention it. Well, is Laviny with you?"

"No--o, she ain't. She--she didn't come. "

"Hum! Did she know you was comin'?"

"No--o, I don't cal'late she did. "

"I see. Well, what do you want?"

Mrs. Coffin's welcome was not too cordial. She had laughed many timesover Abishai's proposal of marriage, but she had never quite forgivenhim for making her ridiculous on that occasion. Incidentally, she didnot feel like laughing. 

"What do you want?" she repeated. 

Kyan was plainly nervous. 

"I only wanted to see Mr. Ellery, " he announced. "It's all right, Keziah. You needn't be afraid. "

"Afraid! What on earth should I be afraid of?"

"Why--why, I didn't know but you might be afraid I was goin' to--to talkabout what we talked about when I--I talked to you that day up at--"

"There! that'll do. It ain't me that would have reason to be afraid ifTHAT was what you come for. What do you want? Don't stand there dancin'a jig. "

"I only wanted to see Mr. Ellery. "

"He's out. Good day. "

"But I won't keep him but a minute. "

"He's out, I tell you. Do you want to leave a message?"

"No--o. No, I guess not. "

"Was it important?"

"Oh! I don't know. Kind of, maybe. I wanted to ask his advice aboutsomethin'. It's a secret. Only him and me know about it. Good-by. "

"Shall I tell him you'll call again? Or ask him to come up to yourhouse?"

Mr. Pepper, who had started to go, now hurried back to the steps. 

"No, no, " he protested, in alarm. "Don't you tell him that. I wouldn'thave him come there for no money. Why, Laviny, she--"

"Oh, Laviny isn't in the secret, then?" Keziah smiled in spite ofherself. 

"Not exactly. That is, not much. Don't you tell her I come here, willyou? I'll find Mr. Ellery. I know where he is. "

"I wouldn't go to the Danielses', if I was you. Elkanah might not liketo have you chasin' after his visitors. "

"Oh, the minister ain't at the Danielses', not as late's this, he ain't. I know where he is. "

"You do?" The housekeeper looked at him keenly. 

"Yes, sir, I do. I know where he goes Sunday afternoons--and why hegoes, too. Mr. Ellery and me's good friends. We understand each other. "

"Look here, Kyan Pepper! What are you talkin' about?"

"Nothin', nothin'. Good day. "

"Stop! Stand still! Come in the house here. I want you to. "

"No, no, Keziah. Really, I'd love to, but I can't stop. "

"Come in, I tell you. "

Reluctantly, but lacking the strength of mind to refuse, Mr. Pepperentered the dining room. Then Mrs. Coffin turned upon him. 

"What do you mean, " she demanded, "by throwin' out hints that theminister and you are in some sort of secret? How dare you go roundtellin' people such yarns as that?"

"They ain't yarns. And I never told nobody afore, anyhow. I got to movealong. I'll--"

"Stay where you are. I guess I'll run right up and ask your sister aboutthis. Perhaps she might--"

"Ss-sh! ss-sh! don't talk that way, Keziah. Don't! Laviny don't knowwhat I mean. Don't go askin' HER things. "

"But you said--"

"I just said I knew where Mr. Ellery goes every Sunday afternoon. Hedon't know anybody knows, but I do. That's all there is to it. I shan'ttell. So--"

"Tell? Do you mean there's somethin' Mr. Ellery wouldn't want told?Don't you dare--I WILL see Laviny!"

"No, no, no, no! 'Tain't nothin' much. I just know where he goes afterhe leaves Elkanah's and who he goes to meet. I--Lordy! I hadn't ought tosaid that! I--Keziah Coffin, don't you ever tell I told you. I've saidmore'n I meant to. If it comes out there'd be the biggest row in thechurch that ever was. And I'd be responsible! I would! I'd have to goon the witness stand and then Laviny'd find out how I--Oh, oh, oh! whatSHALL I do?"

The poor frightened creature's "jig" had, by this time, become adistracted fandango. But the housekeeper had no mercy on him. She wasbeginning to fear for her parson and, for the time, everything else, herown trouble and the recent interview with Nat, was pushed aside. 

"What is it?" she persisted. "WHAT would bring on the row in the church?WHO does Mr. Ellery meet? Out with it! What do you mean?"

"I mean that the minister meets that Van Horne girl every Sundayafternoon after he leaves Elkanah's. There, now! It's out, and I don'tgive a darn if they hang me for it. "

Keziah turned white. She seized Mr. Pepper by the lapel of his Sundaycoat and shook him. 

"Grace Van Horne!" she cried. "Mr. Ellery meets Grace Van Horne onSunday afternoons? Where?"

"Down in them pines back of Peters's pastur', on the aidge of thebank over the beach. He's met her there every Sunday for the last sixweeks--longer, for what I know. I've watched 'em. "

"You HAVE? YOU have! You've dared to spy on--I think you're lyin' to me. I don't believe it. "

"I ain't lyin'! It's so. I'll bet you anything they're there now, walkin' up and down and talkin'. What would I want to lie for? You comewith me this minute and I'll show 'em to you. "

In the desire to prove his veracity he was on his way to the door. ButKeziah stepped in front of him. 

"'Bish Pepper, " she said slowly and fiercely, shaking a forefinger inhis face, "you go straight home and stay there. Don't you breathe a wordto a livin' soul of what you say you've seen. Don't you even think it, or--or dream it. If you do I'll--I'll march straight to Laviny and tellher that you asked me to marry you. I will, as sure as you're shakin' infront of me this minute. Now you swear to me to keep still. Swear!"

"How--HOW'll I swear?" begged Kyan. "What do you say when you swear?I'll say it, Keziah! I'll say anything! I'll--"

"All right. Then mind you remember. Now clear out quick. I want tothink. I MUST think. GO! Get out of my sight!"

Kyan went, glad to escape, but frightened to the soul of him. Keziahwatched him until he turned from the main road into the lighthouse lane. Then, certain that he really was going straight home, she re-enteredthe parsonage and sat down in the nearest chair. For ten minutes she satthere, striving to grasp the situation. Then she rose and, putting onher bonnet and shawl, locked the dining-room door, and went out throughthe kitchen. On the step she looked cautiously back to see if any of theneighbors were at their windows. But this was Sunday, the one day whenTrumet people sat in their front parlors. The coast was clear. Shehurried through the back yard, and down the path leading across thefields. She was going to the pine grove by the shore, going to find outfor herself if Kyan's astonishing story was true. 

For if it was true, if the Rev. John Ellery was meeting clandestinelythe adopted daughter of Eben Hammond, it meant--what might it not mean, in Trumet? If he had fallen in love with a Come-Outer, with Grace VanHorne of all people, if he should dare think of marrying her, it wouldmean the utter wreck of his career as a Regular clergyman. His ownsociety would turn him out instantly. All sorts of things would be said, lies and scandal would be invented and believed. His character would beriddled by the Trumet gossips and the papers would publish the resultbroadcast. 

And Grace! If she loved a Regular minister, what would happen to her?Captain Eben would turn her from his door, that was certain. Althoughhe idolized the girl, Keziah knew that he would never countenance sucha marriage. And if Nat stood by Grace, as he would be almost sure to do, the breach between father and son would widen beyond healing. If it weremerely a matter of personal selection, Mrs. Coffin would rather haveseen her parson marry Grace than anyone else on earth. As it was, sucha match must not be. It meant ruin for both. She must prevent the affairgoing further. She must break off the intimacy. She must save those twoyoung people from making a mistake which would--She wrung her hands asshe thought of it. Of her own sorrow and trouble she characteristicallythought nothing now. Sacrifice of self was a part of Keziah's nature. 

The pines were a deep-green blotch against the cloudy sky and the gloomywaters of the bay. She skirted the outlying clumps of bayberry and beachplum bushes and entered the grove. The pine needles made a soft carpetwhich deadened her footfalls, and the shadows beneath the boughs werethick and black. She tiptoed on until she reached the clearing by thebrink of the bluff. No one was in sight. She drew a breath of relief. Kyan might be mistaken, after all. 

Then she heard low voices. As she crouched at the edge of the grove, twofigures passed slowly across the clearing, along the bush-bordered pathand into the shrubbery beyond. John Ellery was walking with GraceVan Horne. He was holding her hand in his and they were talking veryearnestly. 

Keziah did not follow. What would have been the use? This was not thetime to speak. She KNEW now and she knew, also, that the responsibilitywas hers. She must go home at once, go home to be alone and to think. She tiptoed back through the grove and across the fields. 

Yet, if she had waited, she might have seen something else which wouldhave been, at least, interesting. She had scarcely reached the outeredge of the grove when another figure passed stealthily along thatnarrow path by the bluff edge. A female figure treading very carefully, rising to peer over the bushes at the minister and Grace. The figure ofMiss Annabel Daniels, the "belle" of Trumet. And Annabel's face was notpleasant to look upon. 

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH CAPTAIN EBEN RECEIVES A CALLER

At the edge of the bluff, just where the pines and the bayberry busheswere thickest, where the narrow, crooked little footpath dipped over therise and down to the pasture land and the salt meadow, John Elleryand Grace had halted in their walk. It was full tide and the miniaturebreakers plashed amid the seaweed on the beach. The mist was drifting inover the bay and the gulls were calling sleepily from their perch alongthe breakwater. A night hawk swooped and circled above the tall "feathergrass" by the margin of the creek. The minister's face was pale, but setand determined, and he was speaking rapidly. 

"I can't help it, " he said. "I can't help it. I have made up my mind andnothing can change it, nothing but you. It rests with you. If you sayyes, then nothing else matters. Will you say it?"

He was holding both her hands now, and though she tried to withdrawthem, he would not let her. 

"Will you?" he pleaded. 

"I can't, " she answered brokenly. "I can't. Think of your church and ofyour people. What would they say if--"

"I don't care what they say. "

"Oh! yes, you do. Not now, perhaps, but later you will. You don't knowTrumet as I know it. No, it's impossible. "

"I tell you there is only one impossible thing. That is that I give youup. I won't do it. I CAN'T do it! Grace, this is life and death for me. My church--"

He paused in spite of himself. His church, his first church! He hadaccepted the call with pride and a determination to do his best, thevery best that was in him, for the society and for the people whom hewas to lead. Some of those people he had learned to love; many of them, he felt sure, loved him. His success, his popularity, the growth of theorganization and the praise which had come to him because of it, allthese had meant, and still meant, very much to him. No wonder he paused, but the pause was momentary. 

"My church, " he went on, "is my work and I like it. I believe I've donesome good here and I hope to do more. But no church shall say whom Ishall marry. If you care for me, Grace, as I think and hope you do, we'll face the church and the town together, and they will respect usfor it. "

She shook her head. 

"Some of them might respect you, " she said. "They would say you had beenled into this by me and were not so much to blame. But I--"

"They shall respect my wife, " he interrupted, snapping his teethtogether, "or I'll know the reason why. "

She smiled mournfully. 

"I think they'll tell you the reason, " she answered. "No, John, no!we mustn't think of it. You can see we mustn't. This has all been amistake, a dreadful mistake, and I am to blame for it. "

"The only mistake has been our meeting in this way. We should have metopenly; I realize it, and have felt it for sometime. It was my fault, not yours. I was afraid, I guess. But I'll not be a coward any longer. Come, dear, let's not be afraid another day. Only say you'll marry meand I'll proclaim it openly, to-night--Yes, from the pulpit, if you sayso. "

She hesitated and he took courage from her hesitation. 

"Say it, " he pleaded. "You WILL say it?"

"I can't! I can't! My uncle--"

"Your uncle shall hear it from me. We'll go to him together. I'll tellhim myself. He worships you. "

"Yes, I know. He does worship me. That's why I am sure he had rather seeme dead than married to you, a Regular, and a Regular minister. "

"I don't believe it. He can't be so unreasonable. If he is, then youshouldn't humor such bigotry. "

"He has been my father for years, and a dear, kind father. "

"I know. That's why I'm so certain we can make him understand. Come, dear! come! Why should you consider everyone else? Consider your ownhappiness. Consider mine. "

She looked at him. 

"I am considering yours, " she said. "That is what I consider most ofall. And, as for uncle, I know--I KNOW he would never consent. His heartis set on something else. Nat--"

"Nat? Are you considering him, too? Is HE to stand between us? Whatright has he to say--"

"Hush! hush! He hasn't said anything. But--but he and uncle havequarreled, just a little. I didn't tell you, but they have. And I thinkI know the reason. Nat is Uncle Eben's idol. If the quarrel should growmore serious, I believe it would break his heart. I couldn't bear to bethe cause of that; I should never forgive myself. "

"You the cause? How could you be the cause of a quarrel between thosetwo? Grace, think of me. "

Here was the selfishness of man and the unselfishness of woman answered. 

"John, " she said, "it is of you I am thinking. Everything elsecould--might be overcome, perhaps. But I must think of your future andyour life. I MUST. That is why--"

He did not wait to hear more. He seized her in his arms and kissed her. 

"Then you DO care!" he cried joyfully. "You will marry me?"

For an instant she lay quiet in his embrace, receiving, if notresponding to his caresses. Then she gently but firmly freed herself. Hesaw that there were tears in her eyes. 

"Grace, " he urged, "don't--don't hesitate any longer. You were meant tobe my wife. We were brought together for just that. I know it. Come. "

She was crying softly. 

"Won't you?" he begged. 

"I don't know, " she sobbed. "Oh, I don't know! I must think--I MUST!Wait, please wait, John. Perhaps by to-morrow I can answer. I'lltry--I'll try. Don't ask me again, now. Let me think. Oh, do!"

Doubtless he would have asked her again. He looked as if he meant to. But just then, drifting through the twilight and the mist, came thesound of a bell, the bell of the Regular church, ringing for the Sundayevening meeting. They both heard it. 

"Oh!" exclaimed Grace, "that is your bell. You will be late. You mustgo, and so must I. Good night. "

She started down the path. He hesitated, then ran after her. 

"To-morrow?" he questioned eagerly. "Tomorrow, then, you'll say that youwill?"

"Oh, perhaps, perhaps! I mustn't promise. Good night. "

It was after seven when Grace reached the old tavern. The housekeeper, Mrs. Poundberry, was anxiously awaiting her. She wore her bonnet andSunday gown and was evidently ready to go out. 

"Land sakes alive!" she sputtered. "Where in the name of goodness haveyou been to? I was gettin' scairt. Didn't know but you'd run off and gotmarried, or sunthin' dreadful. "

Grace was thankful that the cloudy twilight made it impossible to seeher face distinctly. The housekeeper rattled on without waiting for ananswer. 

"Supper's on the table and the kittle's abilin'. You better eat in ahurry, 'cause it's meetin' time now. Your uncle, he started ten minutesago. I'm agoin' right along, too, but I ain't goin' to meetin'; I'magoin' up to Betsy E. 's to stay all night. She's got a spine in herback, as the feller said, and ain't feelin' good, so I told her I'd comeand stay a little spell. S'pose you can get along to-morrow without me?"

"Betsy E. " was Mrs. Poundberry's second cousin, an elderly spinsterliving alone in a little house near the salt works. Grace assured herquestioner that she could attend to the house and the meals during thefollowing day, longer if the troublesome "spine" needed company. Mrs. Poundberry sighed, groaned, and shook her head. 

"I shan't stay no longer, " she affirmed; "not if Betsy's all overspines, like one of them Mexican cactus plants. No, marm, my place isright here and I know it. Your Uncle Eben's mighty feeble and peakedlately. He ain't long for this world, I'm afraid. You'd ought to beawful good to him, Gracie. "

"I know it, " was the hurried reply. "Where's Nat?"

"I don't know. Can't keep track of HIM. Might's well try to put yourfinger on a flea. He's here to-day and gone yesterday, as the Scriptur'says. He ate a little mite of supper, but not much, and then off heputs. Says he's goin' to walk the fog out'n his head. I told him, s' I, 'You'll walk a plaguey sight more in than you do out, THIS night, 'but he went just the same. He was dreadful kind of dumpy and blue thisevenin'. Seemed to be sort of soggy in his mind. And why he never wentto meetin' with his dad and why his dad never asked him TO go is more'nI can tell. Land of livin', how I do gabble! My grandmarm used to saymy tongue was loose at both ends and hung in the middle, and I guess shewa'n't fur off the course. Good-by. Take care of yourself. You can putwhat's left of that mock mince pie on the top shelf in the butt'ry andyou'd better heave a dish towel or sunthin' over it to keep the antsout. There's more ants in this house than there is dollars, a goodsight. Betsy B. , she's got a plan for keepin' of 'em out by puttin'sassers of brimstone round the shelves, but I told her, s' I, 'THEM antsdon't care for no brimstone. They're used to it. Sometimes I b'lievethey're sent by the everlastin' father of brimstone, ' and she--"

She had reached the gate by this time, and Grace shut off the flow ofconversation by closing the door. Then she took a candle from the rowon the dining-room mantel, lighted it, and went up to her own room. Standing before the old-fashioned bureau with its little oval mirror, she hastily arranged her hair. She did not wish to go to the prayermeeting at the chapel, but she felt that she must. The Come-Outergatherings, with their noisy singing and shouting, had grown more andmore repugnant to her. 

And to-night, of all nights! How could she meet those people who hadknown her since she was a child, who boasted of her as one of theirstaunchest adherents, who believed in her and trusted her? How could shemeet them and talk with them, knowing what she knew and realizing thatthey, too, would know it on the morrow? But her uncle would miss her andbe worried about her if she did not come. She could not bear to troublehim now; she never loved him so dearly, was never so anxious to humorhis every wish as on this, perhaps the last evening they would spendtogether. For, though she would not yet admit it, even to herself, herdecision was made, had really been made the first time John Ellery askedher weeks before. Only the thought of what might happen to him if sheconsented had caused her to hesitate so long. 

She blew out the candle and came out into the hall at the head of thestairs. She was about to descend when she heard voices. The door of thedining room opened and closed. She felt certain that Nat had returnedand wondered who was with him. Then she heard her uncle's voice, speaking sharply and with unwonted sternness. 

"I don't know what 'tis you want to see me about, " said Captain Eben. "You say it's important; well, it's got to be to keep me from mymeetin'. I ought to be on the Lord's business this minute and nothin'worldly's goin' to keep me from servin' Him. So speak quick. What isit?"

The voice that answered was one that Grace recognized, though shehad never before heard in it the note of agitation and undignifiedexcitement. There were no ponderous pauses and "Hum--ha's" now. 

"Don't be a fool, Hammond!" it said. "And don't stand there preaching. Lock that door! Get a lamp! Are you sure there's nobody but us in thehouse?"

Captain Elkanah Daniels! Captain Elkanah visiting a Come-Outer! andthe leader of the Come-Outers!! Grace caught her breath. What in theworld--She started to descend and then a thought flashed to her mind. She stopped short. 

"I ain't the fool, Elkanah, " she heard her uncle retort sternly. "Thefools are them who are deef to the call from on high. My foot was on thethreshold of His house when you led me astray. It's never halted thereafore. I warn you--"

"Hush! Shut up! Can't you forget that--that Come-Outer circus of yoursfor a minute?"

"Elkanah Daniels, I'll have no blasphemy here. Another word like thatand--"

"WILL you be still and hear me? The Lord's business! I guess you'llthink it's the Lord's business when you understand what I'm going totell you! The Lord's business! The devil's business, you better say!Will you lock that door?"

"My church is waitin' for me and--"

"Let it wait. What's a parcel of yelling Come-Outers compared to thedecency of this town? Stop! Shut up! Eben Hammond, I tell you that yourprecious church--yes and mine, the Regular church of Trumet--will go torack and ruin if you and me don't pull together this night. "

"And I tell you, Elkanah Daniels, I'll have no blasphemy here. Thatlittle sanctuary up the road is founded on a rock and neither younor any of your Phariseein' priest-worshipin' crew can shake it. TheAlmighty'll protect His own. As for the Reg'lar church, that's noconcern of mine. "

"But I tell you 'tis your concern. Or if the church isn't, your ownfamily is. "

"My--my family?"

"Yes, your own family. Huh! that makes you listen, don't it?"

There was an instant of silence. Grace, crouching on the stairs, noticedthe change in her uncle's voice as he answered. 

"My own family?" he repeated slowly. "My own--And the Reg'larchurch--What do you mean? Has Nat--"

"No, he ain't. But that cussed girl of yours--"

"Stop!" Eben's shout rang through the house. The listener heard it, rose, and then sank slowly to her knees. 

"Stop!" shouted Captain Hammond. "Elkanah Daniels, for your own sakenow, be careful. If you dast to say a word, another word like that, I'll--"

"If I dast! The hussy! But there's no use talkin' to you. You're ascrazy as a Bedlamite. Either that, or you're in the game with her. Ifyou are, I warn you--"

"Stop! What game? What do you mean? Gracie! My Grace! What is it? Formercy sakes, Elkanah--"

"Humph! I wondered if I couldn't get some sense into you, finally. Lockthat door!"

"I will! I will! But Elkanah--"

"Lock it! Give me the key!"

The click of the lock sounded sharply. 

"Where's the lamp?" demanded Daniels. "And the matches? Don't standthere shaking. "

A smell of sulphur floated out into the hall. Then the sickly glow ofthe "fluid" lamp shone through the doorway. 

"What ails you?" asked Elkanah. "Are you struck dumb? Now go and see ifthere's anybody else in the house. "

"But--but there ain't. I know there ain't. Hannah's gone and Gracie's atmeetin' by this time. "

"She? Humph! Well, maybe she's at meeting and maybe she isn't. Maybeshe's over in Peters's pines, hugging and kissing that man she's metthere every Sunday for I don't know how long--Here! let go, you oldfool! Let go, I tell you!"

A chair fell to the floor with a bang. There was the sound of hardbreathing and rapid footsteps. 

"Let go!" panted Daniels. "Are you crazy? Take your hands off me!"

"You liar!" snarled Captain Eben. "You low-lived liar! By the Almighty, Elkanah Daniels! I'll--You take that back or I'll choke the everlastin'soul out of you. I will--"

"Let go, you lunatic! You'll kill yourself. Listen! I'm not lying. It'sthe truth. She's met a man, I tell you. Been meeting him for months, Iguess. There! now will you listen?"

The footsteps had ceased, but the heavy breathing continued. 

"A man!" gasped Eben. "A man! Gracie! It's a--Who is he? What's hisname?"

"His name's John Ellery, and he's minister of the Regular church in thistown; that's who he is! Here! hold up! Good Lord! are you dying? Holdup!"

The girl on the stairs sprang to her feet. Her head was reeling and shecould scarcely stand, but she blindly began the descent. She must go toher uncle. She must. But Captain Daniels's voice caused her to halt oncemore. 

"There! there!" it said in a tone of relief. "That's better. Set stillnow. Be quiet, that's it. Shall I get some water?"

"No, no! let me be. Just let me be. I ain't what I used to be andthis--I'm all right, I tell you. Grace! And--and--What was it you justsaid? I--I don't b'lieve I heard it right. "

"I said that daughter of yours, or niece, or whatever she is, this GraceVan Horne, has been meeting young Ellery, our minister, in Peters'sgrove. Been meeting him and walking with him, and kissing him, and--"

"It's a lie! It ain't so, Elkanah! Prove it or--It--it CAN'T be so, canit? Please--"

"It is so. She's met him in those pines every Sunday afternoon for along time. She was seen there with him this afternoon. "

"Who--who saw her?"

"Never mind. The one that did'll never tell--unless it's necessary. They're fixing to be married, and--"

"MARRIED! She marry a Reg'lar minister! Oh--"

"Hush! Listen! They ain't married yet. We can stop 'em, you and I, if weget right to work. It isn't too late. Will you help?"

"Will I--I--Go on! tell me more. "

"We can stop 'em. I know it would be a good catch for her, the sneaking, designing--Well, never mind. But it can't be. It shan't be. You've gotto tell her so, Hammond. We folks of the Regular church have pride inour society; we won't have it disgraced. And we have been proud of ourminister, the young, rattle-headed fool! We'll save him if we can. Ifwe can't"--the speaker's teeth grated--"then we'll send him to eternalsmash or die trying. "

"But I can't believe it's true. It's a mistake; some other girl and notGracie. Why, she don't even know him. She wouldn't--But she HAS been outevery Sunday afternoon for weeks. If it SHOULD be!"

"It is. I tell you it is. Don't waste time rolling your eyes and talkingstuff. We've got to work and you've got to work first. I don't knowwhether you're only making believe or not. I realize that 'twould bea good thing for your girl to marry a promising young chap like him, but--Hush! let me go on. I tell you, Hammond, it can't be. We won't lether. I won't let her. I'm a man of influence in this town, and outsideof it, too. I'm head of the parish committee and a member of theNational Regular Society. I can't reach your precious ward, maybe, but Ican reach the fellow she's after, and if he marries her, I'll drive 'emboth to the poorhouse. 

"Here's where you come in, Hammond. It may be she does really care forhim. Or maybe she's after position and money. Well, you talk to her. Youtell her that if she keeps on going with him, if she doesn't break offthis damnable business now, tomorrow, I'll ruin John Ellery as sure asI'm a living man. He'll be ruined in Trumet, anyhow. He'll be thrown outby the parish committee. I'm not sure that his church people won'ttar and feather him. Marrying a low-down Come-Outer hussy! As if therewa'n't decent girls of good families he might have had! But losing thischurch won't be the only thing that'll happen to him. The committee'llsee that he doesn't get another one. I'll use my influence and have himthrown out of the Regular ministry. Think I can't? What sort of yarnsdo you suppose will be told about him and her, meeting the way they did?Won't the county papers print some fine tales? Won't the Boston onesenjoy such a scandal? I tell you, Eben Hammond, that young chap's namewill be dragged so deep in the mud it'll never get clean again. "

He stopped for breath. His companion was silent. After a moment, hecontinued:

"You tell her that, Hammond, " he went on. "If she really cares for him, it'll be enough. She won't let him ruin his life. And I'll keep quiettill I hear from you. If she's sensible and really decent, then she cangive him his clearance papers without his knowing why she did it andeverything will be a secret and kept so. Nobody else'll ever know. Ifshe won't do that, then you tell me and I'll have a session with HIM. If THAT'S no good, then out he goes and she with him; and it's ruinationfor both of 'em, reputations and all. Why am I doing this? I'll tellyou. I like him. He isn't orthodox enough to suit me, but I have likedhim mighty well. And Annab--Humph! that's neither here nor there. WhatI'm fighting for is the Trumet Regular church. That's MY church andI'll have no dirty scandal with Come-Outers dragging it down. Now youunderstand. Will you tell her what I've said?"

The chair creaked. Evidently, Captain Eben was rising slowly to hisfeet. 

"Well?" repeated Elkanah. 

"Elkanah Daniels, " said Eben slowly, his voice shaking from nervousexhaustion and weakness, but with a fine ring of determination in everyword, "Elkanah Daniels, you listen to me. I've heard you through. Ifyour yarn is true, then my heart is broke, and I wish I might have diedafore I heard it. But I didn't die and I have heard it. Now listen tome. I love that girl of mine better'n the whole wide world and yetI'd ruther see her dead afore me than married to a Reg'lar minister. Disgrace to HIM! Disgrace to your miser'ble church! What about thedisgrace to MINE? And the disgrace to HER? Ruin to your minister! Ruinto my girl here and hereafter is what I'm thinkin' of; that and mypeople who worship God with me. I'll talk to Grace. I'll talk toher. But not of what'll happen to him or you--or any of your cantin', lip-servin' crew. I'll tell her to choose between him and me. And if shechooses him, I'll send her out of that door. I'll do my duty and readher out of my congregation. And I'll know she's gone to everlastin'hell, and that's worse'n the poorhouse. That's all to-night, Elkanah. Now you better go. "

"Humph! Well, I declare! you ARE a bigoted--"

"Stop it! I've kept my hands off you so fur, because I'm the Lord'sservant. But I'm fightin' hard to keep down my old salt-water temper. You go! There's the door. "

"All right, all right! I don't care what you say, so long as it's saidso as to stop her from getting him--and said soon. "

"It'll be said to-night. Now go! My people are waitin' at the chapel. "

"You're not going to that prayer meeting after THIS?"

"Where else should I go? 'Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavyladen. ' And--and"--his voice broke--"He knows that I AM heavy laden. Lord! Lord! do help me, for this is more'n I can bear alone. "

The lock turned; the door opened and closed. Grace, clinging to thebalusters, heard Captain Hammond cross the room, slowly and feebly. She heard him enter the sitting room. Then she heard nothing more, not another sound, though the minutes dragged on and on, endlessly, eternally, and each with a message, a sentence repeated over and overagain in her brain. "If she really cares for him, she won't let him ruinhis life. "

By and by, pale, but more composed, and with her mind made up, she camedown into the hall. Drawing a long breath, she turned into the sittingroom to face her uncle. By the light shining through the dining-roomdoor she saw him on his knees by the haircloth sofa. She spoke his name. He did not answer nor look up. Alarmed, she touched him on the shoulder. At her touch his arm slid from the couch and he fell gently over uponhis side on the carpet. 

CHAPTER XII

IN WHICH CAPTAIN EBEN MAKES PORT

Half past eight. In the vestry of the Regular church John Ellery wasconducting his prayer meeting. The attendance was as large as usual. Three seats, however, were vacant, and along the settees people werewondering where Captain Elkanah Daniels and his daughter might be. Theyhad not missed a service for many a day. And where was Keziah Coffin?

At the Come-Outer chapel the testifying and singing were in full blast. But Ezekiel Bassett was leading, for Captain Eben Hammond had notmade his appearance. Neither had Grace Van Horne, for that matter, butCaptain Eben's absence was the most astonishing. 

"Somethin's the matter, " whispered Josiah Badger to his right-handneighbor. "Somethin's wrong d-d-d-down to the tavern, sartin' sure. I'm goin' down there just soon's meetin's over and f-f-f-find out. Eben wouldn't no more miss leadin' his meetin' from choice than I'd gowithout a meal's v-v-vi-vittles. Somethin's happened and I'm goin' toknow what 'tis. You'll go along with me, won't ye, Lot?"

The answer was an affirmative. In fact, almost every worshiper in thatchapel had determined to visit the Hammond tavern as soon as the servicewas at an end. 

In the Regular parsonage Keziah sat alone by the sitting-room table. Prayer meeting and supper she had forgotten entirely. The ministerhad not come home for his evening meal, and food was furthest from thehousekeeper's thoughts. What should she do? What ought she to do? Howcould she avert the disaster so certain to overwhelm those two youngpeople the moment their secret became known?

It was in vain that she tried to encourage herself with the hope thatKyan had exaggerated--that the meetings in the grove had not been asfrequent as he said they were, or that they had been merely casual. She knew better. She had seen the pair together and the look in JohnEllery's eyes. No, the mischief was done, they loved each other; or, atleast, he loved her. There was the great trouble. 

Keziah, in spite of her worldly common sense, was an idealist at heart. Love matches she believed in thoroughly. If the man had not been aRegular minister, or if he had been a minister in any other town thannarrow, gossiping, squabbling Trumet, where families were divided on"religious" grounds, neighbors did not speak because their creeds weredifferent, and even after death were buried in cemeteries three milesapart; if the girl had been other than the ward of bigoted old EbenHammond--then, though they were poor as poverty itself, Keziah wouldhave joined their hands and rejoiced. Even as it was, she was stronglytempted to do it. Her sense of right and her every inclination urged hertoward that course. "Face the world together and fight it out, " thatwas the advice she would like to give them. But no, the battle was toouneven. The odds were too great. They must not think of marriage, forthe present, and they must cease to meet. Perhaps some day--she tried tocomfort herself with the thought--perhaps some day, years afterwards andunder different circumstances, they might. 

--With Ellery she felt certain she could accomplish nothing by argumentor persuasion. She knew him well enough by this time to realize that, ifhis mind was made up, all Trumet and all creation could not change it. He would keep on his course, and, if wrecked, would go down with colorsset and helm lashed. But Grace, perhaps she did not fully realize thesituation. She might be made to see, to listen to reason. And, perhaps, it was possible--perhaps, on her part, matters were not as serious. Theminister had not acted like a triumphant lover, assured of success;he had seemed, now that she thought of it, more like a pleader, asupplicant. Perhaps, if she could see Grace and talk plainly with thegirl, it might not be too late. She determined to try that very night. 

She rose and again donned her bonnet and shawl. She was about to blowout the lamp when she heard rapid footsteps, the sound of some onerunning along the sidewalk in front of the house. As she listened, thefootsteps sounded on the path. Whoever the runner was he was coming tothe parsonage. She stepped to the door and opened it. 

The runner was a boy, Maria Higgins's boy Isaac, whose widowed motherlived down by the shore. He did the chores at the Hammond tavern. Hisfreckled face was dripping with perspiration and he puffed and blew likea stranded whale. 

"What's the matter, Ike?" demanded Keziah. "What is it?"

"Have ye--have ye, " panted Ike, "have ye seen the doctor anywheres, MisCoffin?"

"Who? Dr. Parker? Have I seen--what in the world are you comin' HEREafter the doctor for?"

"'Cause--'cause I didn't know where else to come. I been to his houseand he ain't to home. Nobody ain't to home. His wife, Mis Parker, she'sgone up to Boston yes'day on the coach, and--and it's all dark and thehouse door's open and the shay's gone, so--"

"Who's sick? Who wants him?"

"And--and--all the rest of the houses round here was shut up 'causeeverybody's to meetin'. I peeked in at the meetin' house and he ain'tthere, and I see your light and--"

"Who's sick? Tell me that, won't you?"

"Cap'n Eben. He's awful sick. I cal'late he's goin' to die, and Gracie, she--"

"Cap'n Eben? Eben Hammond! Dyin'? What are you talkin' about?"

"Huh! huh!" puffed the messenger impatiently. "Didn't I tell ye? Cap'nEben's adyin'. I seen him. All white and still and--and awful. AndGracie, she's all alone and--"

"Alone? Where's Nat?"

"She don't know. He ain't to home. But I got to find Dr. Parker. "

"Hold on! Stop! I'll tell you where the doctor is most likely. Up toMrs. Prince's. She's been poorly and he's prob'ly been called there. Run! run fast as ever you can and get him and I'll go to Grace thisminute. The poor thing! Have you told anybody else?"

"No, no! ain't seen nobody but you to tell. They was prayin' over tomeetin', and the fellers that waits outside to keep comp'ny with thegirls ain't got there yet. And I never met nobody. And 'twas so blasteddark I fell down four times and tore my best pants and--"

"S-sh-sh! Listen to me! Don't tell anybody. Not a soul but the doctor. Half this town'll be runnin' to find out if you do, and that poor girlmust be distracted already. I'll go to her. You get Dr. Parker and tellhim to hurry. "

"I'll tell him; don't you fret. "

He was gone, running harder than ever. A moment later Keziah followedhim, running also. 

It was a misty, black night, and Trumet sidewalks were uneven and hardto navigate. But she stumbled on, up the main road to the Corners, downthe "Turn-off, " past the chapel of the Come-Outers, from the open windowof which sounded the drone of a high, nasal voice. Josiah Badger was"testifying, " and Keziah caught a fragment of the testimony as shehurried by. 

"I says to 'em, says I, I says to 'em, 'I don't care about your smartmum-mum-minister and what fine sermons he preaches. Let him BE smart, ' Isays. Says I, 'Smartness won't g-g-g-git ye into heaven. ' ("Amen!") 'No, sirree! it takes more'n that. I've seen smart folks afore and they gotc-c-cuk-catched up with sooner or later. Pride goes ahead of a tumble, I've heard tell, and--"

This was all that Keziah heard of Mr. Badger's testimony, for, as sheran on, a rattle of wheels and the thud of hoofs came from behind her. Then a rocking chaise, drawn by a galloping horse, shot by. Dr. Parker'scarriage, she was sure. The Higgins boy must have met the doctor anddelivered his message. 

The horse and chaise were standing by the front gate of the tavern asshe pantingly drew near it. The side door of the house was ajar and sheopened it softly and entered. The dining room was empty. There was alight on the sitting-room table and low voices came from the littlebedroom adjoining. Then, from the bedroom, emerged Dr. Parker and GraceVan Horne. The girl was white and there were dark circles under hereyes. The doctor was very grave. 

Keziah stepped forward and held out both hands. Grace looked, recognizedher, and with a cry ran toward her. Keziah took her in her arms andsoothed her as if she were a child. 

"There! there! deary, " she said, stroking her hair. "There! there!deary, don't take it so hard. Poor thing! you're worn out. If I'd onlyknown sooner. "

"O Aunt Keziah!" sobbed the girl. "I'm so glad you've come. It was sogood of you. "

"Good! Land of mercy! If I hadn't come, I'd have been worse than thebeasts that perish. Don't cry, don't. How is he now? Some better?"

She looked at the doctor as she asked it. He shook his heademphatically. 

"Well, well, dear, " went on Mrs. Coffin hurriedly. "He will be prettysoon, we'll hope. You mustn't give up the ship, you know. Now you go andlay down somewheres and I'll get my things off and see what there is todo. Some good strong tea might be good for all hands, I guess likely. Where's Hannah Poundberry?"

"She's gone to her cousin's to stay all night. I suppose I ought to sendfor her, but I--"

"No, no, you hadn't. Might's well send for a poll parrot, the critterwould be just as much good and talk less. I'll look out for things, meand the doctor. Where's--where's Nat?"

"He came in just after I sent the boy for the doctor. He's in therewith--with him, " indicating the bedroom. "Poor Nat!"

Keziah looked longingly toward the door. 

"Yes, " she said slowly. "Poor fellow, it's an awful shock to him. He andhis father are--But there! you lay down on that lounge. "

"I can't lie down. I can't do anything but think. Oh, what a dreadfulday this has been! And I thought it was going to be such a happy one!"

"Yes, yes, deary, I know. "

Grace raised her head. 

"You know?" she repeated, looking up into the housekeeper's face. 

"I mean I know it's been a dreadful day, " explained Keziah quickly. "Yes, indeed it has, " with a sigh. "But there! our moanin' over it don'tcheer it up any. Will you lay down? No? Well, then, SET down, there's agood girl. "

Grace, protesting that she couldn't sit down, she couldn't leave uncle, and there were so many things to do, was at last persuaded by Keziah andthe doctor to rest for a few moments in the big rocker. Then Mrs. Coffinwent into the kitchen to prepare the tea. As she went, she beckoned toDr. Parker, who joined her a moment later. 

"Well, doctor?" she asked anxiously. 

The stout, gray-haired old physician--he had practiced in Trumet fornearly thirty years--shook his head. 

"Not a single chance, " he whispered. "He may possibly live till morning, but I doubt if he lasts an hour. It's his heart. I've expected it atany time. Ever since he had that shock, I've been at him to take thingseasy; but you might as well talk to a graven image. That Come-Outerfoolishness is what really killed him, though just what brought on thisattack I can't make out. Grace says she found him lying on the floor bythe sofa. He was unconscious then. I'm rather worried about her. She wasvery near to fainting when I got here. "

"No wonder. All alone in this ark of a house and nobody to help or tosend. Lucky she found that Ike Higgins. Say, I wonder if the youngone's around here now? If he is, he must stand at the gate and scare offCome-Outers. The whole chapel, mates, crew, and cabin boy, 'll be downhere soon's meetin's over to see what kept Eben. And they mustn't getin. "

"I should say not. I'll hunt up Ike. If a Come-Outer gets into thishouse to-night I'll eat him, that's all. "

"Some of 'em would give you dyspepsy, I guess. Yes, Grace, I'll be therein a jiffy. "

The doctor left the house to find young Higgins and post him at thegate. The boy, who had been listening under the window, was proud of hisnew responsibility. 

"I'll fix 'em, doctor, " he declared. "I only hope old Zeke Bassettcomes. He lammed me with a horsewhip t'other day, 'cause I was ridin'behind his ox cart. If he tried to git by me, I'll bounce a rock off'nhis Sunday hat. "

"Doctor, " whispered Keziah from the kitchen window. "Doctor, come quick. Nat wants you. "

Captain Nat was standing at the door of the bedroom. His face was drawnand he had seemingly grown years older since noon. 

"He's come to himself, doc, " he whispered. "He don't remember how ithappened or anything. And he wants us all. Why! why, Keziah! are youhere?"

"Yes, Nat. I've been here a little while. "

He looked at her steadily and his eyes brightened just a trifle. 

"Did you come to see me?" he asked. "Was it about what I said this--"

"No, no, Nat; no. I heard the news and that Grace was alone; so I comeright down. "

He nodded wearily. 

"You can come in, too, " he said. "I know dad likes you and I guess--Waita minute; I'll ask him. " He stepped back into the bedroom. "Yes, " henodded, returning, "you come, too. He wants you. "

The little room, Captain Eben's own, was more like a skipper's cabinthan a chamber on land. A narrow, single bed, a plain washstand, abattered, painted bureau and a single chair--these made up the list offurniture. Two pictures, both of schooners under full sail, hung on thewalls. Beside them hung a ship's barometer, a sextant, and a clock thatstruck the "bells, " instead of the hours as the landsman understandsthem. In the corner stood the captain's big boots and his oilskins hungabove them. His Sunday cane was there also. And on the bureau was aworn, heavy Bible. 

Dr. Parker brushed by the others and bent over the bed. 

"Well, cap'n, " he said cheerily, "how's she headed? How are you feelingnow?"

The old face on the pillow smiled feebly. 

"She's headed for home, I guess, doc, " said Captain Eben. "Bound forhome, and the harbor light broad abeam, I cal'late. "

"Oh, no! you'll make a good many voyages yet. "

"Not in this hulk, I won't, doctor. I hope I'll have a new commandpretty soon. I'm trustin' in my owners and I guess they'll do the fairthing by me. Halloo, Gracie, girl! Well, your old uncle's on his beamends, ain't he?"

Grace glanced fearfully at his face. When he spoke her name she shrankback, as if she feared what he might say. But he only smiled as, withthe tears streaming down her face, she bent over and kissed him. 

"There! there!" he protested. "You mustn't cry. What are you cryin'about me for? We know, you and me, who's been lookin' out for us andkeepin' us on the course all these years. We ain't got anything to cryfor. You just keep on bein' a 'good girl, Gracie, and goin' to the rightchurch and--I s'pose Ezekiel'll lead in meetin' now, " he added. "I dowish he was a stronger man. "

The doctor, whose fingers had been upon the old man's wrist, looked upat Nat significantly. 

"There, dad, " said the latter, "don't you worry about Zeke Bassett, noranything else. You just lay in dry dock and let Parker here overhaulyour runnin' riggin' and get you fit for sea. That's what you've got todo. "

"I'm fit and ready for the sea I'm goin' to sail, " was the answer. Hiseyes wandered from his son to Mrs. Coffin. For an instant he seemedpuzzled. Then he said:

"'Evenin', Keziah. I don't know why you're here, but--"

"I heard that Grace was alone and that you was sick, Eben. So I comeright down, to help if I could. "

"Thank ye. You're a good-hearted woman, Keziah, even though youain't seen the true light yet. And you're housekeeper for that hiredpriest--a--a--" He paused, and a troubled look came over his face. 

"What is it, dad?" asked Nat. 

"I--I--Where's Gracie? She's here, ain't she?"

"Yes, uncle, I'm here. Here I am, " said the girl. His fingers groped forher hand and seized it. 

"Yes, yes, you're here, " murmured Captain Eben. "I--I--for a minute orso, I--I had an awful dream about you, Gracie. I dreamed--Never mind. Doc, answer me this now, true and honest, man to man: Can you keep mehere for just a little spell longer? Can you? Try! Ten minutes, say. Canyou?"

"Of course I can. Cap'n Hammond, what are you--"

"I know. That's all right. But I ain't a young one to be petted and liedto. I'm a man. I've sailed ships. I've been on blue water. I'm goin' tomake port pretty soon, and I know it, but I want to get my decks clearfust, if I can. Gracie, stand still. Nat, run alongside where I can seeyou plainer. Keziah, you and the doctor stay where you be. I want you towitness this. "

"Cap'n, " protested Dr. Parker, "if I were you I wouldn't--"

"Belay! Silence there, for'ard! Nat, you're my boy, ain't you? You setsome store by the old man, hey?"

"I--I guess I do, dad. "

"Yes, I guess you do, too. You've been a pretty good boy; stubbornand pig-headed sometimes, but, take you by and large, pretty good. AndGracie, you've been a mighty good girl. Never done nothin' I wouldn'tlike, nothin' mean nor underhand nor--"

"Hush, uncle! Hush! Please hush!"

"Well, you ain't; so why should I hush? In this--this dream I had, seems'sif you--seems as if a man come to me and said that you was--It WAS adream, wa'n't it?"

He tried to rise. Nat and the doctor started forward. Grace shrank back. 

"Of course it was, cap'n, " said the doctor briskly. "Now you mustn'tfret yourself in this way. Just lie still and--"

"Belay, I tell you. Yes, I guess 'twas a dream. It had to be, but 'twasso sort of real that I--How long have I been this way?"

"Oh, a little while! Now just--"

"Hush! Don't pull your hand away, Gracie. Nat, give me yours. That's it. Now I put them two hands together. See, doctor? See, Keziah?"

"He's wandering. We must stop this, " muttered Parker. Mrs. Coffin, whobegan to comprehend what was coming, looked fearfully at Nat and thegirl. 

"No, I ain't wanderin', neither, " declared the old Come-Outer fretfully. "I'm sane as ever I was and if you try to stop me I'll--Gracie, yourUncle Eben's v'yage is 'most over. He's almost to his moorin's andthey're waitin' for him on the pier. I--I won't be long now. Just alittle while, Lord! Give me just a little while to get my house inorder. Gracie, I don't want to go till I know you'll be looked out for. I've spoke to Nat about this, but I ain't said much to you. Seems if Ihadn't, anyhow; I ain't real sartin; my head's all full of bells ringin'and--and things. "

"Don't, uncle, don't!" pleaded Grace. "Don't worry about me. Think ofyourself, please. "

"S-sh-sh! Don't put me off. Just listen. I want you to marry my boy, after I'm gone. I want you to say you will--say it now, so's I can hearit. Will you, Gracie?"

Grace would have withdrawn her hand, but he would not let her. He clungto it and to that of his son with all his failing strength. 

"Will you, Gracie?" he begged. "It's the last thing I'm goin' to ask ofyou. I've tried to be sort of good to you, in my way, and--"

"Don't, don't!" she sobbed. "Let me think a minute, uncle, dear. Oh, dolet me think!"

"I ain't got time, Gracie. You'll have to say it now, or else--Allright, then, think; but think quick. "

Grace was thinking. "If she really cares for him, she won't let him ruinhis life. " That was what Captain Elkanah had said. And here was a way tosave him from ruin. 

"Won't you say it for me, Gracie?" pleaded Captain Eben. She hesitatedno longer. 

"Yes, uncle, " she answered through tears, "if Nat wants me he can haveme. "

Keziah clasped her hands. Captain Eben's face lit up with a great joy. 

"Thank the Almighty!" he exclaimed. "Lord, I do thank you. Nat, boy, you're consider'ble older than she is and you'll have to plan for her. You be a good husband to her all her days, won't ye? Why, what are youwaitin' for? Why don't you answer me?"

Nat groaned aloud. 

"A minute, dad, " he stammered. "Just give me a minute, for Heaven sakes!Keziah--"

"Keziah!" repeated Eben. "Keziah? What are you talkin' to HER for? Sheknows there couldn't be no better match in the world. You do know it, don't ye, Keziah?"

"Yes, " said Keziah slowly. "I guess--I guess you're right, Eben. "

"Keziah Coffin, " cried Nat Hammond, "do you tell me to marry Grace?"

"Yes, Nat, I--I think your father's right. "

"Then--then--what difference does--All right, dad. Just as Grace says. "

"Thank God!" cried Captain Eben. "Doctor, you and Mrs. Coffin arewitnesses to this. There! now my decks are clear and I'd better getready to land. Gracie, girl, the Good Book's over there on the bureau. Read me a chapter, won't you?"

An hour later Keziah sat alone in the dining room. She had stolen awaywhen the reading began. Dr. Parker, walking very softly, came to her andlaid his hand on her shoulder. 

"He's gone, " he said simply. 

CHAPTER XIII

IN WHICH KEZIAH BREAKS THE NEWS

It was nearly five o'clock, gray dawn of what was to be a clear, beautiful summer morning, when Keziah softly lifted the latch andentered the parsonage. All night she had been busy at the Hammondtavern. Busy with the doctor and the undertaker, who had been calledfrom his bed by young Higgins; busy with Grace, soothing her, comfortingher as best she could, and petting her as a mother might pet astricken child. The poor girl was on the verge of prostration, and fromhysterical spasms of sobs and weeping passed to stretches of silent, dry-eyed agony which were harder to witness and much more to be feared. 

"It is all my fault, " she repeated over and over again. "All my fault! Ikilled him! I killed him, Aunt Keziah! What shall I do? Oh, why couldn'tI have died instead? It would have been so much better, better foreverybody. "

"Ss-sh! ss-sh! deary, " murmured the older woman. "Don't talk so; youmustn't talk so. Your uncle was ready to go. He's been ready for ever solong, and those of us who knew how feeble he was expected it any time. 'Twa'n't your fault at all and he'd say so if he was here now. "

"No, he wouldn't. He'd say just as I do, that I was to blame. You don'tknow, Aunt Keziah. Nobody knows but me. "

"Maybe I do, Gracie, dear; maybe I do. Maybe I understand better'n youthink I do. And it's all been for the best. You'll think so, too, oneof these days. It seems hard now; it is awful hard, you poor thing, butit's all for the best, I'm sure. Best for everyone. It's a mercy he wentsudden and rational, same as he did. The doctor says that, if he hadn't, he'd have been helpless and bedridden and, maybe, out of his head foranother year. He couldn't have lived longer'n that, at the most. "

"But you DON'T know, Aunt Keziah! You don't know what I--I AM to blame. I'll never forgive myself. And I'll never be happy again. "

"Yes, you will. You'll come, some day, to think it was best and right, for you and--and for others. I know you think you'll never get over it, but you will. Somehow or other you will, same as the rest of us havehad to do. The Lord tries us mighty hard sometimes, but He gives us thestrength to bear it. There! there! don't, deary, don't. "

Dr. Parker was very anxious. 

"She must rest, " he told Mrs. Coffin. "She must, or her brain will giveway. I'm going to give her something to make her sleep and you must gether to take it. "

So Keziah tried and, at last, Grace did take the drug. In a little whileshe was sleeping, uneasily and with moans and sobbings, but sleeping, nevertheless. 

"Now it's your turn, Keziah, " said the doctor. "You go home now andrest, yourself. We don't need you any more just now. "

"Where's--where's Cap'n Nat?" asked Keziah. 

"He's in there with his father. He bears it well, although he is mightycut up. Poor chap, he seems to feel that he is to blame, somehow. SaysCap'n Eben and he had disagreed about something or other and he fearsthat hastened the old man's death. Nonsense, of course. It was bound tocome and I told him so. 'Twas those blasted Come-Outers who really didit, although I shan't say so to anyone but you. I'm glad Nat and thegirl have agreed to cruise together. It's a mighty good arrangement. Shecouldn't have a better man to look out for her and he couldn't have abetter wife. I suppose I'm at liberty to tell people of the engagement, hey?"

"Yes. Yes, I don't see any reason why not. Yes--I guess likely you'dbetter tell 'em. "

"All right. Now you go home. You've had a hard night, like the rest ofus. "

How hard he had no idea. And Keziah, as she wearily entered theparsonage, realized that the morning would be perhaps the hardestof all. For upon her rested the responsibility of seeing that theminister's secret was kept. And she, and no other, must break the newsto him. 

The dining room was dark and gloomy. She lighted the lamp. Then sheheard a door open and Ellery's voice, as he called down the stairs. 

"Who is it?" he demanded. "Mrs. Coffin?"

She was startled. "Yes, " she said softly, after a moment. "Yes, Mr. Ellery, it's me. What are you doin' awake at such an hour's this?"

"Yes, I'm awake. I couldn't sleep well to-night, somehow. Too muchto think of, I imagine. But where have you been? Why weren't you atmeeting? And where--Why, it's almost morning!"

She did not answer at once. The temptation was to say nothing now, toput off the trying scene as long as possible. 

"It's morning, " repeated the minister. "Are you sick? Has anythinghappened?"

"Yes, " she answered slowly, "somethin' has happened. Are you dressed?Could you come down?"

He replied that he would be down in a moment. When he came he foundher standing by the table waiting for him. The look of her face in thelamplight shocked him. 

"Why, Mrs. Coffin!" he exclaimed. "What IS it? You look as if you hadbeen through some dreadful experience. "

"Maybe I have, " she replied. "Maybe I have. Experiences like that cometo us all in this life, to old folks and young, and we have to bear 'emlike men and women. That's the test we're put to, Mr. Ellery, and theway we come through the fire proves the stuff we're made of. Sorrows anddisappointments and heartbreaks and sicknesses and death--"

She paused on the word. He interrupted her. 

"Death?" he repeated. "Death? Is some one dead, some one I know? Mrs. Coffin, what is it you are trying to tell me?"

Her heart went out to him. She held out both her hands. 

"You poor boy, " she cried, "I'm trying to tell you one of the hardestthings a body can tell. Yes, some one is dead, but that ain't all. EbenHammond, poor soul, is out of his troubles and gone. "

"Eben Hammond! Captain Eben? Dead! Why, why--"

"Yes, Eben's gone. He was took down sudden and died about ten o'clocklast night. I was there and--"

"Captain Eben dead! Why, he was as well as--as--She said--Oh, I must go!I must go at once!"

He was on his way to the door, but she held it shut. 

"No, " she said gravely, "you mustn't go. You mustn't go, Mr. Ellery. That's the one thing you mustn't do. "

"You don't understand. By and by I can tell you why I must be there, butnow--"

"I do understand. I understand it all. Lord help us! if I'd onlyunderstood sooner, how much of this might have been spared. Why DIDN'Tyou tell me?"

"Mrs. Coffin--"

"John--you won't mind my callin' you John. I'm old enough, pretty nigh, to be your mother, and I've come to feel almost as if I was. John, you've got to stay here with me. You can't go to that house. You can'tgo to her. "

"Mrs. Coffin, what are you saying? Do you know--Have you--"

"Yes, I know all about it. I know about the meetin's in the pines andall. Oh, why didn't you trust me and tell me? If you had, all would havebeen SO much better!"

He looked at her in utter amazement. The blood rushed to his face. 

"You know THAT?" he whispered. 

"Yes, I know. "

"Did she tell--"

"No, nobody told. That is, only a little. I got a hint and I suspicionedsomethin' afore. The rest I saw with my own eyes. "

He was now white, but his jaw shot forward and his teeth closed. 

"If you do know, " he said, "you must realize that my place is with her. Now, when she is in trouble--"

"Would you want to make that trouble greater? More than she could bear?"

"I think I might help her to bear it. Mrs. Coffin, you have been mytruest friend, but one, in Trumet. You HAVE been like a mother to me. But I have thought this out to the end and I shall go through with it. It is my affair--and hers. If my own mother were alive and spoke as youdo, I should still go through with it. It is right, it is my life. I'mnot ashamed of anything I've done. I'm proud. I'm proud of her. Andhumble only when I think how unworthy I am to be her husband. I supposeyou are fearful of what my congregation will say. Well, I've thought ofthat, too, and thought it through. Whatever they say and whatever theydo will make no difference. Do you suppose I will let THEM keep me fromher? Please open that door. "

He was very tragic and handsome--and young, as he stood there. The tearsoverflowed the housekeeper's eyes as she looked at him. If her own lovestory had not been broken off at its beginning, if she had not thrownher life away, she might have had a son like that. She would have givenall that the years had in store for her, given it gladly, to have beenable to open the door and bid him go. But she was firm. 

"It ain't the congregation, John, " she said. "Nor Trumet, nor yourministry. That means more'n you think it does, now; but it ain't that. You mustn't go to her because--well, because she don't want you to. "

"Doesn't want me? I know better. " He laughed in supreme scorn. 

"She doesn't want you, John. She wouldn't see you if you went. She wouldsend you away again, sure, sartin sure. She would. And if you didn'tgo when she sent you, you wouldn't be the man I hope you are. John, youmustn't see Grace again. She ain't yours. She belongs to some one else. "

"Some one else!" He repeated the words in a whisper. "Some one ELSE?Why, Mrs. Coffin, you must be crazy! If you expect me to--"

"Hush! hush! I ain't crazy, though there's times when I wonder I ain't. John, you and Grace have known each other for a few months, that'sall. You've been attracted to her because she was pretty and educatedand--and sweet; and she's liked you because you were about the onlyyoung person who could understand her and--and all that. And so you'vebeen meetin' and have come to believe--you have, anyway--that 'twassomethin' more than likin'. But you neither of you have stopped to thinkthat a marriage between you two was as impossible as anything could be. And, besides, there's another man. A man she's known all her life andloved and respected--"

"Stop, Mrs. Coffin! stop this wicked nonsense. I won't hear it. "

"John, Grace Van Horne is goin' to marry Cap'n Nat Hammond. There!that's the livin' truth. "

In his absolute confidence and faith he had again started for the door. Now he wheeled and stared at her. She nodded solemnly. 

"It's the truth, " she repeated. "She and Nat are promised to each other. Cap'n Eben, on his deathbed, asked Dr. Parker and me to be witnesses tothe engagement. Now you see why you mustn't go nigh her again. "

He did not answer. Instead, he stood silently staring. She steppedforward and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"Set down, John, " she said. "Set down and let me tell you about it. Yes, yes, you must. If I tell you, you'll understand better. There! there!don't you interrupt me yet and don't you look that way. Do set down. "

She led him over to the rocking-chair and gently forced him into it. He obeyed, although with no apparent realization of what he was doing. Still with her hand on his shoulder she went on speaking. She told himof her visit to the Hammond tavern, saying nothing of Mr. Pepper'scall nor of her own experience in the grove. She told of Captain Eben'sseizure, of what the doctor said, and of the old Come-Outer's return toconsciousness. Then she described the scene in the sick room and how Natand Grace had plighted troth. He listened, at first stunned and stolid, then with growing impatience. 

"So you see, " she said. "It's settled; they're engaged, and Dr. Parkerwill tell everybody of the engagement this very mornin'. It wa'n't anygreat surprise to me. Those two have been brought up together; 'twas thenatural thing that was almost bound to happen. Eben's heart was set onit for years. And she'll have a good husband, John, that I know. Andshe'll do her best to make him happy. He's a good man and--"

The minister sprang to his feet. 

"A good man!" he cried furiously. "A good man! One who will make use ofa dying father to drive a girl into--Stand aside, Mrs. Coffin!"

"John, you mustn't speak that way of Nat Hammond. He ain't the kind todrive a girl against her will. And Grace is not one to be driven. "

"Are you blind? Can't you see? Why, only yesterday, she--Do you think Ishall permit such a wicked crime as that to--"

"Ss-sh! No, it ain't wicked, it's right. Right and best for everybody, for her especial. Yesterday she might have forgot for a minute. Butthink, just think what would have happened if she cared for you. "

"But she does! I know she does. Mrs. Coffin, stand away from that door. "

"No, John; if you go out of that door now, to go to her, you'll have togo by main strength. You shan't wreck yourself and that girl if I canhelp it. Be a man. "

The pair looked at each other. Keziah was determined, but so, evidently, was he. She realized, with a sinking heart, that her words had madeabsolutely no impression. He did not attempt to pass, but he slowlyshook his head. 

"Mrs. Coffin, " he said, "perhaps you believe you're doing right. Ihope--yes, I'll give you credit for that belief. But I KNOW I am rightand I shall go to her. Such a--a BARGAIN as that you have just told meof is no more to be regarded than--"

"John, I beg you--"

"NO. "

"Then go. Go this minute and break her heart and ruin her life and spoilher good name in this village where she's lived since she was eightyears old. Go! be selfish. I suppose that's part of a man's make-up. Go!Never mind her. Go!"

"I do 'mind' her, as you call it. I AM thinking of her. "

"No, you're not. It's yourself. "

"If it was myself--and God knows it is the only happiness on earth forme--if it was only myself, and I really thought she wished me to stayaway, I'd stay, I'd stay, though I'd pray to die before this hour wasover. "

"I know, I know. I've prayed to die myself afore now, but I'm here yet;and so will you be. We can't die so easy. "

"But I know--"

"Do you suppose SHE would come to YOU if she knew it would be yourruin?"

He hesitated. The last time they met, ages before--no, only the previousafternoon--she had told him it was his happiness and his future onlythat she thought of. He choked and drew his hand across his eyes. 

"Mrs. Coffin, " he said, "you tell me it will be her ruin. YOU tell meso. You SAY she doesn't want me. I tell you that the only thing thatwill keep me from her is hearing that from her own lips. When she tellsme to leave her I will, and not before. "

"She'll tell you, John; she'll tell you. I know you must despise me, pretty nigh. I cal'late you think I'm a worldly old woman, carin'nothin' for your feelin's. Maybe I've talked pretty hard in the last fewminutes, but I haven't meant to be hard. To be honest, I didn't thinkyou'd listen to me. I expected you'd insist on seein' her yourself. Well, then, go and see her, if you must, though what will come of itcan only be more trouble, for you run the risk of folks knowin' it andbeginnin' to wonder. And I know Grace. She's made up her mind and won'tchange it. But I do ask you this: I ask you not to go now. Wait a littlewhile, do. I left her asleep, worn out by what she's been through andunder the effects of the doctor's sleepin' medicine. He said she mustrest or he was afraid her brain would give out. For her sake, then, wait a little. Then, if you don't hear from her, maybe I can arrange ameetin' place where you can see her without anyone's knowin' it. I'lltry. But do wait a little while, for her sake, won't you?"

At last he was listening and hesitating. 

"Won't you?" begged Keziah. 

"Yes, " he answered slowly. "I'll wait. I'll wait until noon, somehow, if I can. I'll try. But not a minute later. Not one. You don't know whatyou're asking, Mrs. Coffin. "

"Yes, I do. I know well. And I thank you for her sake. "

But he did not have to wait until noon. At six o'clock, through thedew-soaked grass of the yard, came the Higgins boy. For the first timein his short life he had been awake all night and he moved slowly. 

The housekeeper opened the door. Ike held up an envelope, clutched in agrimy hand. 

"It's for you, Mrs. Keziah, " he said. "Gracie, she sent it. There ain'tno answer. "

Keziah took the letter. "How is she? And how's Nat?" she asked. 

"They're doin' pretty well, so ma says. Ma's there now and they've sentfor Hannah Poundberry. Gee!" he added, yawning, "I ain't slept a wink. Been on the jump, now I tell ye. Didn't none of them Come-Outers git in, not one. I sent 'em on the home tack abilin'. You ought to hear me giveold Zeke Bassett Hail Columby! Gosh! I was just ahopin' HE'D come. "

Mrs. Coffin closed the door and tore open the envelope. Withinwas another addressed, in Grace's handwriting, to Mr. Ellery. Thehousekeeper entered the study, handed it to him and turned away. 

The minister, who had been pacing the floor, seized the note eagerly. It was written in pencil and by a hand that had trembled much. Yet therewas no indecision in the written words. 

"Dear John, " wrote Grace. "I presume Aunt Keziah has told you of uncle'sdeath and of my promise to Nat. It is true. I am going to marry him. Iam sure this is right and for the best. Our friendship was a mistake andyou must not see me again. Please don't try. 

"GRACE VAN HORNE. "

Beneath was another paragraph. 

"Don't worry about me. I shall be happy, I am sure. And I shall hopethat you may be. I shall pray for that. "

The note fell to the floor with a rustle that sounded loud in thestillness. Then Keziah heard the minister's step. She turned. He wasmoving slowly across the room. 

"John, " she cried anxiously, "you poor boy!"

He answered without looking back. 

"I'm--going--up--to--my--room, " he said, a pause between each word. "Iwant to be alone awhile, Mrs. Coffin. "

Wearily Keziah set about preparing breakfast. Not that she expected themeal would be eaten, but it gave her something to do and occupied hermind. The sun had risen and the light streamed in at the parsonagewindows. The breeze blew fresh and cool from the ocean. It was amagnificent morning. 

She called to him that breakfast was ready, but he did not answer. Shecould eat nothing herself, and, when the table was cleared, preparedto do the week's washing, for Monday is always washday in Trumet. Nooncame, dinner time, but still he did not come down. At last Keziah couldstand it no longer. She determined to go to him. She climbed the steepstairs and rapped on the door of his room. 

"Yes?" she heard him say. 

"It's me, " was the reply. "Mr. Ellery, can I come in? I know you wantto be alone, but I don't think you'd ought to be, too much. I'd like totalk with you a few minutes; may I?"

A moment passed before he told her to enter. He was sitting in a chairby the window, dressed just as he had been when she returned from thetavern. She looked sharply at his face as it was turned toward her. Hiseyes were dry and in them was an expression so hopeless and dreary thatthe tears started to her own. 

"John, " she said, "I couldn't bear to think of your facin' it alone uphere. I just had to come. "

He smiled, and the smile was as hopeless as the look in his eyes. 

"Face it?" he repeated. "Well, Mrs. Coffin, I must face it, I suppose. I've been facing it ever since--since I knew. And I find it no easier. "

"John, what are you goin' to do?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, " he said. "Go away somewhere, firstof all, I guess. Go somewhere and--and try to live it down. I can't, ofcourse, but I must try. "

"Go away? Leave Trumet and your church and your congregation?"

"Did you suppose I could stay here?"

"I hoped you would. "

"And see the same people and the same places? And do the same things?See--see HER! Did you"--he moved impatiently--"did you expect me toattend the wedding?"

She put out her hand. "I know it'll be hard, " she said, "stayin' here, Imean. But your duty to others--"

"Don't you think we've heard enough about duty to others? How about myduty to myself?"

"I guess that's the last thing we ought to think about in the world, ifwe do try to be fair and square. Your church thinks a heap of you, John. They build on you. You've done more in the little while you've been herethan Mr. Langley did in his last fifteen years. We've grown and we'redoin' good--doin' it, not talkin' it in prayer meetin'. The parishcommittee likes you and the poor folks in the society love you. Old Mrs. Prince was tellin' me, only a little spell ago, that she didn't know howshe'd have pulled through this dreadful time if 'twa'n't for you. Andthere's lots of others. Are you goin' to leave them? And what reasonwill you give for leavin'?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, " he answered. "I may not give any. ButI shall go. "

"I don't believe you will. I don't believe you're that kind. I'vewatched you pretty sharp since you and I have been livin' together and Ihave more faith in you than that comes to. You haven't acted to me likea coward and I don't think you'll run away. "

"Mrs. Coffin, it is so easy for you to talk. Perhaps if I were in yourplace I should be giving good advice about duty and not running away andso on. But suppose you were in mine. "

"Well, suppose I was. "

"Suppose--Oh, but there! it's past supposing. "

"I don't know's 'tis. My life hasn't been all sunshine and fair winds, by no means. "

"That's true. I beg your pardon. You have had troubles and, from whatI hear, you've borne them bravely. But you haven't had to face anythinglike this. "

"Haven't I? Well, what is it you're asked to face? Disappointment? I'vefaced that. Sorrow and heartbreak? I've faced them. "

"You've never been asked to sit quietly by and see the one you love morethan all the world marry some one else. "

"How do you know I ain't? How do you know I ain't doin' just that now?"

"Mrs. Coffin!"

"John Ellery, you listen to me. You think I'm a homely old woman, probably, set in my ways as an eight-day clock. I guess I look like itand act like it. But I ain't so awful old--on the edge of forty, that'sall. And when I was your age I wa'n't so awful homely, either. I hadfellers aplenty hangin' round and I could have married any one of adozen. This ain't boastin'; land knows I'm fur from that. I was broughtup in this town and even when I was a girl at school there was only oneboy I cared two straws about. He and I went to picnics together andto parties and everywhere. Folks used to laugh and say we was keepin'comp'ny, even then. 

"Well, when I was eighteen, after father died, I went up to New Bedfordto work in a store there. Wanted to earn my own way. And this youngfeller I'm tellin' you about went away to sea, but every time he comehome from a voyage he come to see me and things went on that way till wewas promised to each other. The engagement wa'n't announced, but 'twasso, just the same. We'd have been married in another year. And then wequarreled. 

"'Twas a fool quarrel, same as that kind gen'rally are. As much my faultas his and as much his as mine, I cal'late. Anyhow, we was both proud, or thought we was, and neither would give in. And he says to me, 'You'llbe sorry after I'm gone. You'll wish me back then. ' And says I, BEIN' afool, 'I guess not. There's other fish in the sea. ' He sailed and I didwish him back, but I wouldn't write fust and neither would he. And thencome another man. "

She paused, hesitated, and then continued. 

"Never mind about the other man. He was handsome then, in a way, and hehad money to spend, and he liked me. He wanted me to marry him. If--ifthe other, the one that went away, had written I never would havethought of such a thing, but he didn't write. And, my pride bein' hurt, and all, I finally said yes to the second chap. My folks did all theycould to stop it; they told me he was dissipated, they said he had a badname, they told me twa'n't a fit match. And his people, havin' money, was just as set against his takin' a poor girl. Both sides said ruinwould come of it. But I married him. 

"Well, for the first year 'twa'n't so bad. Not happiness exactly, butnot misery either. That come later. His people was well off and he'dnever worked much of any. He did for a little while after we wasmarried, but not for long. Then he begun to drink and carry on and losthis place. Pretty soon he begun to neglect me and at last went off tosea afore the mast. We was poor as poverty, but I could have stood that;I did stand it. I took in sewin' and kept up an appearance, somehow. Never told a soul. His folks come patronizin' around and offered memoney, so's I needn't disgrace them. I sent 'em rightabout in a hurry. Once in a while he'd come home, get tipsy and abuse me. Still I saidnothin'. Thank God, there was no children; that's the one thing I'vebeen thankful for. 

"You can't keep such things quiet always. People are bound to find out. They come to me and said, 'Why don't you leave him?' but I wouldn't. I could have divorced him easy enough, there was reasons plenty, but Iwouldn't do that. Then word came that he was dead, drowned off in theEast Indies somewheres. I come back here to keep house for Sol, mybrother, and I kept house for him till he died and they offered me thisplace here at the parsonage. There! that's my story, part of it, more'nI ever told a livin' soul afore, except Sol. "

She ceased speaking. The minister, who had sat silent by the window, apathetically listening or trying to listen, turned his head. 

"I apologize, Mrs. Coffin, " he said dully, "you have had trials, hardones. But--"

"But they ain't as hard as yours, you think? Well, I haven't quitefinished yet. After word come of my husband's death, the other man comeand wanted me to marry him. And I wanted to--oh, how I wanted to! Icared as much for him as I ever did; more, I guess. But I wouldn't--Iwouldn't, though it wrung my heart out to say no. I give him up--why?'cause I thought I had a duty laid on me. "

Ellery sighed. "I can see but one duty, " he said. "That is the dutygiven us by God, to marry the one we love. "

Keziah's agitation, which had grown as she told her story, suddenlyflashed into flame. 

"Is that as fur as you can see?" she asked fiercely. "It's an easy duty, then--or looks easy now. I've got a harder one; it's to stand by thepromise I gave and the man I married. "

He looked at her as if he thought she had lost her wits. 

"The man you married?" he replied. "Why, the man you married is dead. "

"No, he ain't. You remember the letter you saw me readin' that nightwhen you come back from Come-Outers' meetin'? Well, that letter was fromhim. He's alive. "

For the first time during the interview the minister rose to his feet, shocked out of his despair and apathy by this astounding revelation. 

"Alive?" he repeated. "Your husband ALIVE? Why, Mrs. Coffin, this is--"

She waved him to silence. "Don't stop me now, " she said. "I've told somuch; let me tell the rest. Yes, he's alive. Alive and knockin' roundthe world somewheres. Every little while he writes me for money and, ifI have any, I send it to him. Why? Why 'cause I'm a coward, after all, I guess, and I'm scared he'll do what he says he will and come back. Perhaps you think I'm a fool to put up with it; that's what most folkswould say if they knew it. They'd tell me I ought to divorce him. Well, I can't, I CAN'T. I walked into the mess blindfold; I married him inspite of warnin's and everything. I took him for better or for worse, and now that he's turned out worse, I must take my medicine. I can'tlive with him--that I can't do--but while HE lives I'll stay his wifeand give him what money I can spare. That's the duty I told you was laidon me, and it's a hard one, but I don't run away from it. "

John Ellery was silent. What could he say? Keziah went on. 

"I don't run away from it, " she exclaimed, "and you mustn't run awayfrom yours. Your church depends on you, they trust you. Are you goin'to show 'em their trust was misplaced? The girl you wanted is to marryanother man, that's true, and it's mighty hard. But she'll marry a goodman, and, by and by, she'll be happy. "

"Happy!" he said scornfully. 

"Yes, happy. I know she'll be happy because I know she's doin' what'llbe best for her and because I know him that's to be her husband. I'veknown him all my life; he's that other one that--that--and I give him upto her; yes, I give him up to her, and try to do it cheerful, because Iknow it's best for him. Hard for YOU? Great Lord A'mighty! do you thinkit ain't hard for ME? I--I--"

She stopped short; then covering her face with her apron, she ran fromthe room. John Ellery heard her descending the stairs, sobbing as shewent. 

All that afternoon he remained in his chair by the window. It was sixo'clock, supper time, when he entered the kitchen. Keziah, looking upfrom the ironing board, saw him. He was white and worn and grim, but heheld out his hand to her. 

"Mrs. Coffin, " he said, "I'm not going away. You've shown me whatdevotion to duty really means. I shall stay here and go on with mywork. "

Her face lit up. "Will you?" she said. "I thought you would. I was sureyou was that kind. "

CHAPTER XIV

IN WHICH THE SEA MIST SAILS

They buried Captain Eben in the little Come-Outer cemetery at the rearof the chapel. A bleak, wind-swept spot was that cemetery, bare of treesand with only a few graves and fewer headstones, for the Come-Outerswere a comparatively new sect and their graveyard was new inconsequence. The grave was dug in the yellow sand beside that of Mrs. Hammond, Nat's mother, and around it gathered the fifty or sixty friendswho had come to pay their last tribute to the old sailor and tavernkeeper. 

The Come-Outers were there, all of them, and some members of the Regularsociety, Captain Zeb Mayo, Dr. Parker, Keziah Coffin, Mrs. Higgins, andIke. Mrs. Didama Rogers was there also, not as a mourner, but because, in her capacity as gatherer of gossip, she made it a point never tomiss a funeral. The Rev. Absalom Gott, Come-Outer exhorter at Wellmouth, preached the short sermon, and Ezekiel Bassett added a few remarks. Thena hymn was sung and it was over. The little company filed out of thecemetery, and Captain Eben Hammond was but a memory in Trumet. 

Keziah lingered to speak a word with Grace. The girl, looking very whiteand worn, leaned on the arm of Captain Nat, whose big body acted asa buffer between her and over-sympathetic Come-Outers. Mrs. Coffinsilently held out both hands and Grace took them eagerly. 

"Thank you for coming, Aunt Keziah, " she said. "I was sure you would. "

"Least I could do, deary, " was the older woman's answer. "Your uncleand I was good friends once; we haven't seen each other so often oflate years, but that ain't changed my feelin's. Now you must go home andrest. Don't let any of these"--with a rather scornful glance at JosiahBadger and Ezekiel and the Reverend Absalom--"these Job's comfortersbother you. Nat, you see that they let her alone, won't you?"

Captain Nat nodded. He, too, looked very grave and worn. "I'll tend tothem, " he said shortly. "Come, Grace, " he added; "let's go. "

But the girl hung back. "Just a minute, Nat, " she said. "I--I--would youmind if I spoke to Aunt Keziah--alone? I only want to say a word. "

Nat strode off to the cemetery gate, where Josiah Badger stood, brandishing a red cotton handkerchief as a not too-clean emblem ofmourning. Mr. Badger eagerly sprang forward, but ran into an impossiblebarrier in the form of the captain's outstretched arm. Josiah protestedand the captain replied. Grace leaned forward. 

"Auntie, " she whispered, "tell me: Did a letter--Did he--"

"Yes, it came. I gave it to him. "

"Did--did he tell you? Do you know?"

"Yes, I know, deary. "

"Did he--is he--"

"He's well, deary. He'll be all right. I'll look out for him. "

"You will, won't you? You won't let him do anything--"

"Not a thing. Don't worry. We've had a long talk and he's going tostay right here and go on with his work. And nobody else'll ever know, Gracie. "

"How--O Aunt Keziah! how he must despise me. "

"Despise you! For doin' what was your duty? Nonsense! He'll respect youfor it and come to understand 'twas best for both of you, by and by. Don't worry about him, Gracie. I tell you I'll look out for him. "

"I guess it will be better if he does despise me. And hate me, too. Hecan't despise and hate me more than I do myself. But it IS right--whatI'm doing; and the other was wrong and wicked. Auntie, you'll come andsee me, won't you? I shall be so lonesome. "

"Yes, yes; I'll come. Perhaps not right away. There's reasons why I'dbetter not come right away. But, by and by, after it's all settled andyou and Nat"--she hesitated for an instant in spite of herself--"afteryou and Nat are married I'll come. "

"Don't talk about that NOW. Please don't. "

"All right, I won't. You be a good, brave girl and look out for Nat;that's your duty and I'm sure you'll do it. And I'll do my best forJohn. "

"Do you call him John?"

"Yup. We had a sort of--of adoptin' ceremony the other mornin' andI--Well, you see, I've got to have somebody to call by their front nameand he's about all I've got left. "

"O Aunt Keziah! if I could be one half as patient and brave and sweet asyou are--"

"Sssh! here comes Nat. Be kind to him. He's sufferin', too; maybe more'nyou imagine. Here she is, Nat. Take her back home and be good to her. "

The broad-shouldered skipper led his charge out of the gate and downthe "Turn-off. " Josiah Badger looked after them disgustedly. As Keziahapproached, he turned to her. 

"I swan to man!" he exclaimed, in offended indignation, "if I ain'tlosin' my respect for that Nat Hammond. He's the f-f-fuf-for'ardestcritter ever I see. I was just agoin' to hail Gracie and ask her whatshe thought about my leadin' some of the meetin's now her uncle has beencalled aloft. I wanted to ask her about it fust, afore Zeke Bassettgot ahead of me, but that Nat wouldn't let me. Told me she mustn't beb-b-b-bothered about little things now. LITTLE things! Now, what do youthink of that, Mrs. Coffin? And I spoke to Lot Taylor, one of our owns-s-sas-sassiety, and asked what he thought of it, and he said for me togo home set d-d-down and let my h-h-h-hah-hair grow. Of all--"

"I tell you what you do, Josiah, " broke in the voice of Captain ZebMayo, "you go home or somewhere else and set down and have it cut. That'll take pretty nigh as long, and'll keep it from wearin' out yourcoat collar. Keziah, I've been waitin' for you. Get in my shay and I'lldrive you back to the parsonage. "

Mrs. Coffin accepted the invitation and a seat in the chaise besideCaptain Zeb. The captain spoke of the dead Come-Outer and of his respectfor him in spite of the difference in creed. He also spoke of the Rev. John Ellery and of the affection he had come to feel for the young man. 

"I like that young feller, Keziah, " he said. "Like him for a lot ofreasons, same as the boy liked the hash. For one thing, his religionain't all starch and no sugar. He's good-hearted and kind and--andhuman. He seems to get just as much satisfaction out of the promise ofheaven as he does out of the sartainty of t'other port. He ain't all thetime bangin' the bulkhead and sniffin' brimstone, like parsons I haveseen. Sulphur's all right for a spring medicine, maybe, but when Junecomes I like to remember that God made roses. Elkanah, he comes to me awhile ago and he says, 'Zebedee, ' he says, 'don't you think Mr. Ellery'ssermons might be more orthodox?' 'Yes, ' says I, 'they might be, but whata mercy 'tis they ain't. ' He, he, he! I kind of like to poke Elkanah inthe shirt front once in a while, just to hear it crackle. Say, Keziah, you don't think the minister and Annabel are--"

"No, " was the emphatic interruption; "I know they ain't; he ain't, anyway. "

"Good! Them Danielses cal'late they own the most of this town already;if they owned the minister they'd swell up so the rest of us would haveto go aloft or overboard; we'd be crowded off the decks, sure. "

"No one owns him. Haven't you found that out?"

"Yup, I cal'late I have and I glory in his spunk. "

"I'm glad to hear you say so. Of course Cap'n Elkanah is boss of theparish committee and--"

"What? No, he ain't nuther. He's head of it, but his vote counts justone and no more. What makes you say that?"

"Oh, nuthin'. Only I thought maybe, long as Elkanah was feelin' that Mr. Ellery wa'n't orthodox enough, he might be goin' to make a change. "

"He might? HE might! Say, Keziah Coffin, there was Mayos in this townand in this church afore the fust Daniels ever washed ashore; andthey'll be here when the last one blows up with his own importance. I'mon that parish committee--you understand?--and I've sailed ships andhandled crews. I ain't so old nor feeble but what I can swing a belayin'pin. Boss! I'll have you to know that no livin' man bosses me. "

"All right! I didn't mean to stir you up, Zebedee. But from things Cap'nDaniels has said I gathered that he was runnin' the committee. And, asI'm a friend of Mr. Ellery, it--"

"Friend! Well, so'm I, ain't I? If you ever hear of Daniels tryin' anytricks against the minister, you send for me, that's all. I'LL show him. Boss! Humph!"

The wily Keziah alighted at the parsonage gate with the feeling that shehad sown seed in fertile ground. She was quite aware of Captain Zeb'sjealousy of the great Daniels. And the time might come when her parsonneeded an influential friend on the committee and in the Regularsociety. 

The news of the engagement between Captain Nat Hammond and Grace VanHorne, told by Dr. Parker to one or two of his patients, spread throughTrumet like measles through a family of small children. Didama Rogerslearned it, so did Lavinia Pepper, and after that it might as wellhave been printed on the walls for all to read. It was talked over andgossiped about in every household from the lighthouse keeper's family tothat of George Washington Cash, who lived in the one-room hovel in thewoods near the Wellmouth line, and was a person of distinction, in hisway, being the sole negro in the county. And whenever it was discussedit was considered a fine thing for both parties concerned. Almosteveryone said it was precisely what they expected. 

Annabel Daniels and her father had not expected it. They were, however, greatly pleased. In their discussion, which lasted far into the night, Captain Elkanah expressed the opinion that the unexpected denouement wasthe result of his interview with Eben. He had told the old Come-Outerwhat would happen to his ward if she persisted in her impudent andaudacious plot to entrap a Regular clergyman. She, being discovered, hadyielded, perforce, and had accepted Nat as the next best catch. 

Annabel was not satisfied with this explanation. Of course, she said, she did not pretend to believe Grace's statement that she had found heruncle unconscious. No doubt the pair had had an interview and all that. But she believed the minister himself had come to his senses and haddismissed the brazen creature. She did not blame Mr. Ellery so much. Hewas a young man, with a kind heart, and no doubt the "Van Horneperson" had worked upon his sympathies and had taken advantage of hisinexperience of feminine wiles. 

"I think, pa, " she said, "that it's our duty, yours and mine, to treathim just as we always have. He doesn't know that we know, and we willkeep the secret. And, as Christians, we should forget and forgive. We'llinvite him here as we always have, keep him under our good influence, and be very kind to him, poor innocent. As for Captain Hammond, I'msorry for him, knowing the kind of wife he is going to have, but nodoubt Come-Outers are not particular. "

Kyan Pepper was another whom the news of the engagement surprisedgreatly. When Lavinia told him of it, at the dinner table, he droppedthe knife he was holding and the greasy section of fish-ball balancedupon it. 

"'Bishy, " said Miss Pepper, "what do you s'pose has happened down to theHammond tavern?"

"Oh, I know that, " was the reply. "I heard that long ago; Cap'n Eben'sdead. "

"'Course he's dead; and I knew you knew it. Land sakes! don't be such aninny. Why, I told you myself. "

"Well, I didn't know but you'd forgot. Anybody's li'ble to forget whothey've told things to. Why, I've forgot more things--"

"Yes, there ain't no doubt about that. I've told you a million times, if I have once, to tuck your napkin round your neck when you've gotyour Sunday clothes on. And there you be this minute without a sign of anapkin. "

"Why, Laviny! I MUST have it round my neck. I know I--"

"Don't be so foolish! Think I'm blind? Can't I see you ain't got it? Nowwhere is it?"

Kyan began a futile hunt for the missing napkin, in his lap, on thetable, and finally under it. 

"I don't understand, " he stammered, "where that napkin can be. I'm justas sure I had it and now I'm just as sure I ain't got it. What do yous'pose I done with it?"

"Goodness knows! 'Twouldn't surprise me if you'd et it, you're thatabsent-minded. Here! what's that stickin' out of your breast pocket?"

Her brother put his hand to the pocket indicated and produced themissing napkin, much crumpled. 

"There!" he exclaimed, in a tone of relief. "Now I remember. It musthave dropped on the floor and I thought 'twas my handkerchief and pickedit up and--"

"What did you think you'd be carryin' a white handkerchief for, on aweek day?"

"Well, I had on my Sunday suit and--"

"Yes, and for the dear mercy sakes WHY have you got it on?"

Kyan saw an opportunity for self-justification. 

"You TOLD me to put it on, " he declared triumphantly. "You said yourselfI'd better rig out in my Sunday clothes 'cause we might go to Eben'sfuneral. You know you did. "

"Hear the man! And then, after you've dressed up to go to his funeral, you pretend to believe I'm goin' to tell you he's dead. I never--"

"Well, what IS it, then? He ain't come to life, has he?"

"Grace Van Horne's engaged to be married, that's what it is. Look out!Oh, you--"

Just here occurred the accident already described. Knife and fish balldescended upon the waistcoat belonging to the "Sunday suit. " Laviniaflew for warm water, ammonia, and a cloth, and the soiled waistcoatwas industriously scrubbed. The cleansing process was accompanied by alively tongue lashing, to which Kyan paid little attention. 

"Engaged?" he kept repeating. "Gracie Van Horne engaged? Engaged? En--"

"Be still, you poll parrot! Dear! dear! dear! look at them spots. Yes, yes; don't say it again; she's engaged. "

"Who--who--who--"

"Now you've turned to an owl, I do believe. 'Hoo! hoo!' She's engaged toNat Hammond, that's who. Nothin' very surprisin' about that, is there?"

Kyan made no answer. He rubbed his forehead, while his sister rubbed thegrease spots. In jerky sentences she told of the engagement and how thenews had reached her. 

"I can't believe it, " faltered Abishai. "She goin' to marry Nat! Why, Ican't understand. I thought--"

"What did you think? See here! you ain't keepin' anything from me, beyou?"

The answer was enthusiastically emphatic. 

"No, no, no, no!" declared Kyan. "Only I didn't know they was--was--"

"Neither did anybody else, but what of it? Folks don't usually advertisewhen they're keepin' comp'ny, do they?"

"No--o. But it's gen'rally found out. I know if I was keepin'comp'ny--or you was, La-viny--"

His sister started. 

"What makes you say that?" she demanded, looking quickly up from herrubbing. 

"Why, nothin'. Only if I was--or you was, somebody'd see somethin'suspicious and kind of drop a hint, and--"

"Better for them if they 'tended to their own affairs, " was the sharpanswer. "I ain't got any patience with folks that's always talkin' abouttheir neighbor's doin's. There! now you go out and stand alongside thecook stove till that wet place dries. Don't you move till 'TIS dry, neither. "

So to the kitchen went Kyan, to stand, a sort of living clotheshorse, beside the hot range. But during the drying process he rubbed hisforehead many times. Remembering what he had seen in the grove he couldnot understand; but he also remembered, even more vividly, what KeziahCoffin had promised to do if he ever breathed a word. And he vowed againthat that word should not be breathed. 

The death and funeral of Captain Eben furnished Trumet with a subject ofconversation for a week or more. Then, at the sewing circle and at thestore and after prayer meeting, both at the Regular meeting house andthe Come-Outer chapel, speculation centered on the marriage of Nat andGrace. When was it to take place? Would the couple live at the old houseand "keep packet tavern" or would the captain go to sea again, takinghis bride with him? Various opinions, pro and con, were expressed by thespeculators, but no one could answer authoritatively, because none knewexcept those most interested, and the latter would not tell. 

John Ellery heard the discussions at the sewing circle when, in companywith some of the men of his congregation, he dropped in at thesegatherings for tea after the sewing was over. He heard them at church, before and after the morning service, and when he made pastoral calls. People even asked his opinion, and when he changed the subject inferred, some of them, that he did not care about the doings of Come-Outers. Thenthey switched to inquiries concerning his health. 

"You look awful peaked lately, Mr. Ellery, " said Didama Rogers. "Ain'tyou feelin' well?"

The minister answered that he was as well as usual, or thought he was. 

"No, no, you ain't nuther, " declared Didama. "You look's if you wascomin' down with a spell of somethin'. I ain't the only one that'snoticed it. Why, Thankful Payne says to me only yesterday, 'Didama, 'says she, 'the minister's got somethin' on his mind and it's wearin' ofhim out. ' You ain't got nothin' on your mind, have you, Mr. Ellery?"

"I guess not, Mrs. Rogers. It's a beautiful afternoon, isn't it?

"There! I knew you wa'n't well. A beautiful afternoon, and it hotter'nfuryation and gettin' ready to rain at that! Don't tell me! 'Tain't yourmind, Mr. Ellery, it's your blood that's gettin' thin. My husband had aspell just like it a year or two afore he died, and the doctor saidhe needed rest and a change. Said he'd ought to go away somewheres byhimself. I put my foot down on THAT in a hurry. 'The idea!' Isays. 'You, a sick man, goin' off all alone by yourself to die oflonesomeness. If you go, I go with you. ' So him and me went up to Bostonand it rained the whole week we was there, and we set in a little box ofa hotel room with a window that looked out at a brick wall, and set andset and set, and that's all. I kept talkin' to him to cheer him up, buthe never cheered. I'd talk to him for an hour steady and when I'dstop and ask a question he'd only groan and say yes, when he meant no. Finally, I got disgusted, after I'd asked him somethin' four or fivetimes and he'd never answered, and I told him, I believed he was gettin'deef. 'Lordy!' he says, 'I wish I was!' Well, that was enough for ME. Says I, 'If your mind's goin' to give out we'd better be home. ' So homewe come. And that's all the good change and rest done HIM. Hey? What didyou say, Mr. Ellery?"

"Er--oh, nothing, nothing, Mrs. Rogers. "

"Yes. So home we come and I'd had enough of doctors to last. I figgeredout that his blood was thinnin' and I knew what was good for that. Mygreat Aunt Hepsy, that lived over to East Wellmouth, she was a greathand for herbs and such and she'd give me a receipt for thickenin' theblood that was somethin' wonderful. It had more kind of healin' herbs init than you could shake a stick at. I cooked a kittleful and got him totake a dose four times a day. He made more fuss than a young one abouttakin' it. Said it tasted like the Evil One, and such profane talk, andthat it stuck to his mouth so's he couldn't relish his vittles; but Inever let up a mite. He had to take it and it done him a world of good. Now I've got that receipt yet, Mr. Ellery, and I'll make some of thatmedicine for you. I'll fetch it down to-morrow. Yes, yes, I will. I'magoin' to, so you needn't say no. And perhaps I'll have heard somethin'about Cap'n Nat and Grace by that time. "

She brought the medicine, and the minister promptly, on her departure, handed it over to Keziah, who disposed of it just as promptly. 

"What did I do with it?" repeated the housekeeper. "Well, I'll tell you. I was kind of curious to see what 'twas like, so I took a teaspoonful. I did intend to pour the rest of it out in the henyard, but after thattaste I had too much regard for the hens. So I carried it way downto the pond and threw it in, jug and all. B-r-r-r! Of all the messesthat--I used to wonder what made Josh Rogers go moonin' round makin' hislips go as if he was crazy. I thought he was talkin' to himself, but nowI know better, he was TASTIN'. B-r-r-r!"

Keziah was the life of the gloomy parsonage. Without her the ministerwould have broken down. Time and time again he was tempted to give up, in spite of his promise, and leave Trumet, but her pluck and couragemade him ashamed of himself and he stayed to fight it out. She watchedhim and tended him and "babied" him as if he was a spoiled child, pretending to laugh at herself for doing it and at him for permittingit. She cooked the dishes he liked best, she mended his clothes, sheacted as a buffer between him and callers who came at inopportunetimes. She was cheerful always when he was about, and no one would havesurmised that she had a sorrow in the world. But Ellery knew andshe knew he knew, so the affection and mutual esteem between the twodeepened. He called her "Aunt Keziah" at her request and she continuedto call him "John. " This was in private, of course; in public he was"Mr. Ellery" and she "Mrs. Coffin. "

In his walks about town he saw nothing of Grace. She and Mrs. Poundberryand Captain Nat were still at the old home and no one save themselvesknew what their plans might be. Yet, oddly enough, Ellery was the firstoutsider to learn these plans and that from Nat himself. 

He met the captain at the corner of the "Turnoff" one day late inAugust. He tried to make his bow seem cordial, but was painfully awarethat it was not. Nat, however, seemed not to notice, but crossed theroad and held out his hand. 

"How are you, Mr. Ellery?" he said. "I haven't run across you forsometime. What's the matter? Seems to me you look rather under theweather. "

Ellery answered that he was all right and, remembering that he hadnot met the captain since old Hammond's death, briefly expressed hissympathy. His words were perfunctory and his manner cold. His reasontold him that this man was not to blame--was rather to be pitied, ifKeziah's tale was true. Yet it is hard to pity the one who is to marrythe girl you love. Reason has little to do with such matters. 

"Well, Mr. Ellery, " said Captain Nat, "I won't keep you. I see you're ina hurry. Just thought I'd run alongside a minute and say good-by. Don'tknow's I'll see you again afore I sail. "

"Before you sail? You--you are going away?"

"Yup. My owners have been after me for a good while, but I wouldn'tleave home on account of dad's health. Now he's gone, I've got tobe gettin' back on salt water again. My ship's been drydocked andoverhauled and she's in New York now loadin' for Manila. It's a longvy'age, even if I come back direct, which ain't likely. So I may not seethe old town again for a couple of years. Take care of yourself, won'tyou? Good men, especially ministers, are scurse, and from what I hearabout you I cal'late Trumet needs you. "

"When are you going?"

"Last of next week, most likely. "

"Will you--shall you go alone? Are you to be--to be--"

"Married? No. Grace and I have talked it over and we've agreed it's bestto wait till I come back. You see, dad's been dead such a little while, and all, that--well, we're goin' to wait, anyhow. She'll stay in the oldhouse with Hannah, and I've fixed things so she'll be provided for whileI'm gone. I left it pretty much to her. If she'd thought it best forus to marry now, I cal'late I should have--have--well, done what shewanted. But she didn't. Ah, hum!" he added with a sigh; "she's a goodgirl, a mighty good girl. Well, so long and good luck. "

"Good-by, captain. "

"Good-by. Er--I say, Mr. Ellery, how things at the parsonage? All wellthere, are you?"

"Yes. "

"Er--Keziah--Mrs. Coffin, your housekeeper, is she smart?"

"Yes. She's well. "

"That's good. Say, you might tell her good-by for me, if you want to. Tell her I wished her all the luck there was. And--and--just say thatthere ain't any--well, that her friend--say just that, will you?--herFRIEND said 'twas all right. She'll understand; it's a--a sort of jokebetween us. "

"Very good, captain; I'll tell her. "

"Much obliged. And just ask her to keep an eye on Grace while I'm gone. Tell her I leave Gracie under her wing. Keziah and me are old chums, ina way, you see. "

"Yes. I'll tell her that, too. "

"And don't forget the 'friend' part. Well, so long. "

They shook hands and parted. 

Didama and her fellow news-venders distributed the tale of Captain Nat'ssailing broadcast during the next few days. There was much wondermentat the delayed marriage, but the general verdict was that Captain Eben'srecent death and the proper respect due to it furnished sufficientexcuse. Hannah Poundberry, delighted at being so close to the center ofinterest, talked and talked, and thus Grace was spared the interviewswhich would have been a trouble to her. Nat left town, via the packet, on the following Wednesday. Within another week came the news that hisship, the Sea Mist, had sailed from New York, bound for Manila. Hertopsails sank beneath the horizon, and she vanished upon the wild wasteof tumbling waves and out of Trumet's knowledge, as many another vessel, manned and officered by Cape Cod men, had done. The village talked ofher and her commander for a few days and then forgot them both. Only atthe old home by the landing and at the parsonage were they remembered. 

CHAPTER XV

IN WHICH TRUMET TALKS OF CAPTAIN NAT

Summer was over, autumn came, passed, and it was winter--John Ellery'sfirst winter in Trumet. Fish weirs were taken up, the bay filled withice, the packet ceased to run, and the village settled down to hibernateuntil spring. The stage came through on its regular trips, except whensnow or slush rendered the roads impassable, but passengers were veryfew. Occasionally there were northeast gales, with shrieking winds, driving gusts of sleet and hail and a surf along the ocean side thatbellowed and roared and tore the sandy beach into new shapes, washingaway shoals and building others, blocking the mouth of the little inletwhere the fish boats anchored and opening a new channel a hundred yardsfarther down. Twice there were wrecks, one of a fishing schooner, thecrew of which were fortunate enough to escape by taking to the dories, and another, a British bark, which struck on the farthest bar andwas beaten to pieces by the great waves, while the townspeople stoodhelplessly watching from the shore, for launching a boat in that surfwas impossible. 

The minister was one of those who watched. News of the disaster had beenbrought to the village by the lightkeeper's assistant, and Ellery andmost of the able-bodied men in town had tramped the three miles to thebeach, facing the screaming wind and the cutting blasts of flying sand. As they came over the dunes there were times when they had to dig theirheels into the ground and bend forward to stand against the freezinggale. And, as they drew nearer, the thunder of the mighty surf grew everlouder, until they saw the white clouds of spray leap high above thecrazily tossing, flapping bunches of beach grass that topped the lastknoll. 

Three masts and a broken bowsprit sticking slantwise up from a whirl ofcreamy white, that was all they could see of the bark, at first glance. But occasionally, as the breakers drew back for another cruel blow, theycaught glimpses of the tilted deck, smashed bare of houses and rail. 

"Those black things on the masts?" asked Ellery, bending to scream thequestion into the ear of Gaius Winslow, his companion. "Are they--itcan't be possible that they're--"

"Yup, " shrieked Gaius in reply, "they're men. Crew lashed in theriggin'. Poor fellers! it'll soon be over for 'em. And they're mostlikely frozen stiff a'ready and won't sense drownin', that's a comfort. "

"Men!" repeated the minister in horror. "Men! Great God! and are weto stand by here and see them die without lifting a hand? Why, it'sbarbarous! It's--"

Winslow seized his arm and pointed. 

"Look!" he shouted. "Look at them! How much good would our liftin' handsdo against them?"

Ellery looked. The undertow, that second, was sucking the beach dry, sucking with such force that gravel and small stones pattered down theslope in showers. And behind it a wave, its ragged top raveled by thewind into white streamers, was piling up, up, up, sheer and green andmighty, curling over now and descending with a hammer blow that shookthe land beneath their feet. And back of it reared another, andanother, and another, an eighth of a mile of whirling, surging, terrificbreakers, with a yelling hurricane whipping them on. 

It was soon over, as Gaius had said it would be. A mighty leap of spray, a section of hull broken off and tossed into view for an instant, thentwo of the masts went down. The other followed almost at once. Thenthe watchers, most of them, went back to the village, saying little ornothing and dispersing silently to their homes. 

During the next fortnight John Ellery conducted six funeral services, brief prayers beside the graves of unknown men from that wreck. Thebodies, as they were washed ashore, were put into plain coffins paidfor by the board of selectmen, and buried in the corner of the Regularcemetery beside other waifs thrown up by the sea in other years. It wasa sad experience for him, but it was an experience and tended to makehim forget his own sorrow just a little. Or, if not to forget, at leastto think of and sympathize more keenly with the sorrows of others. Somewhere, in England or Ireland or scattered over the wide world, therewere women and children waiting for these men, waiting anxiously fornews of their safe arrival in port, praying for them. When he mentionedthis thought to the townspeople they nodded philosophically and saidyes, they "presumed likely. " As Captain Zeb put it, "Most sailors arefools enough to get married, prob'ly this lot wa'n't any exception. " Itwas no new thought to him or to any other dweller in that region. It wasalmost a fixed certainty that, if you went to sea long enough, youwere bound to be wrecked sometime or other. The chances were that, withordinary luck and good management, you would escape with your life. Luck, good or bad, was the risk of the trade; good management wasexpected, as a matter of course. 

Mr. Pepper made no more calls at the parsonage, and when the ministermet him, at church or elsewhere, seemed anxious to avoid an interview. 

"Well, Abishai, " asked Ellery, on one of these occasions, "how are yougetting on at home? Has your sister locked you up again?"

"No, sir, she ain't, " replied Kyan. "Laviny, she's sort of diff'rentlately. She ain't nigh so--so down on a feller as she used to be. I canget out once in a while by myself nowadays, when she wants to write aletter or somethin'. "

"Oh, she's writing letters, is she?"

"Um--hm. Writes one about every once in a week. I don't know who they'reto, nuther, but I have my suspicions. You see, we've got a cousin outWest--out Pennsylvany way--and he ain't very well and has got a turriblelot of money. I'm sort of surmisin' that Laviny's writin' to him. We'reabout his only relations that's left alive and--and so--"

"I see. " The minister smiled. 

"Yup. Laviny's a pretty good navigator, fur's keepin' an eye to wind'ardis concerned. She was awful down on Phineas--that's his name--'cause hemarried a Philadelphy woman, but he's a widower man now, so I s'pose shefeels better toward him. She's talkin' of goin' up to Sandwich prettysoon. "

"She IS? Alone?"

"So she says. "

"To leave you here? Why! well, I'm surprised. "

"Godfreys mighty! so be I. But she says she b'lieves she needs a changeand there's church conference up there, you know, and she figgers thatshe ain't been to conference she don't know when. I s'pose you'll go, won't you, Mr. Ellery?"

"Probably. "

"Um--hm. I kind of wisht I was goin' myself. 'Twill be kind of lonesomeround home without her. "

Considering that that variety of lonesomeness had been Abishai's dreamof paradise for years, Ellery thought his change of heart a good jokeand told Keziah of it when he returned to the parsonage. The housekeeperwas greatly surprised. 

"Well! well! well!" she exclaimed. "Miracles'll never cease. I don'twonder so much at Laviny wantin' to go to conference, but her darin' togo and leave Kyan at home is past belief. Why, every time she's hada cold her one fear was that she'd die and leave 'Bish behind to bekidnaped by some woman. Kyan himself was sick once, and the story wasthat his sister set side of the bed night and day and read him over andover again that chapter in the Bible that says there's no marryin' orgivin' in marriage in heaven. Dr. Parker told me that he didn't believe'Bish got ha'f the comfort out of that passage that she did. And nowshe's goin' to Sandwich and leave him. I can't think it's true. "

But it was true, and Lavinia got herself elected a delegate and went, incompany with Captain Elkanah, Mrs. Mayo, and others, to the conference. She was a faithful attendant at the meetings and seemed to be havinga very good time. She introduced the minister to one Caleb Pratt, aresident of Sandwich, whom she said she had known ever since she was agirl. 

"Mr. Pratt's a cousin to Thankful Payne over to home, " volunteeredLavinia. "You know Thankful, Mr. Ellery. "

Ellery did know Mrs. Payne and said so. Mr. Pratt, who was dressed in anew suit of black which appeared to hurt him, imparted the informationthat he'd heard tell consider'ble of Mr. Ellery. 

"I enjoyed your sermon to-night fust--rate, " he added solemnly. "Fust--rate, sir--yes. "

"Did you, indeed? I'm glad. "

"Yes, sir. You used words in that sermon that I never heard afore in mylife. 'Twas grand. "

Lavinia confided to her pastor that Mr. Pratt made the best shoes inOstable County. He could fit ANY kind of feet, she declared, and theminister ought to try him sometime. She added that he had money in thebank. 

The Reverend John rode home in the stage beside Miss Annabel, not fromchoice, but because the young lady's father insisted upon it. MissDaniels gushed and enthused as she always did. As they drove by theCorners the minister, who had been replying absently to Annabel'squestions, suddenly stopped short in the middle of a sentence. Hiscompanion, leaning forward to look out of the window, saw Grace VanHorne entering the store. For an instant Annabel's face wore a veryunpleasant expression. Then she smiled and said, in her sweetest manner:

"Why, there's the tavern girl! I haven't seen her for sometime. How oldshe looks! I suppose her uncle's death has aged her. Well, she'llbe married soon, just as soon as Cap'n Nat gets back. They perfectlyworship each other, those two. They say she writes him the longestletters. Hannah Poundberry told me. Hannah's a queer creature andcommon, but devoted to the Hammonds, Mr. Ellery. However, you're notinterested in Come-Outers, are you? Ha, ha!"

Ellery made some sort of an answer, but he could not have told what itwas. The sight of Grace had brought back all that he was trying sohard to forget. Why couldn't one forget, when it was so painful--and souseless--to remember?

Spring once more; then summer. And now people were again speaking ofCaptain Nat Hammond. His ship was overdue, long overdue. Even in thosedays, when there were no cables and the telegraph was still something ofa novelty, word of his arrival should have reached Trumet months beforethis. But it had not come, and did not. Before the summer was over, thewise heads of the retired skippers were shaking dubiously. Something hadhappened to the Sea Mist, something serious. 

As the weeks and months went by without news of the missing vessel, this belief became almost a certainty. At the Come-Outer chapel, whereEzekiel Bassett now presided, prayers were offered for the son of theirformer leader. These prayers were not as fervent as they might havebeen, for Grace's nonattendance at meetings was causing much commentand a good deal of resentment. She came occasionally, but not often. "Ialways said she was stuck-up and thought she was too good for the restof us, " remarked "Sukey B. " spitefully. "'And, between you and me, pasays he thinks Nat Hammond would be one to uphold her in it. He wa'n't abit spirituous and never experienced religion. If anything HAS happenedto him, it's a punishment sent, that's what pa thinks. "

Those were gloomy days at the parsonage. Keziah said little concerningthe topic of which all the village was talking, and John Elleryforebore to mention it. The housekeeper was as faithful as ever in theperformance of her household duties, but her smile had gone and shewas worn and anxious. The minister longed to express his sympathy, butKeziah had not mentioned Nat's name for months, not since he, Ellery, gave her the message intrusted to him by the captain before sailing. Hewould have liked to ask about Grace, for he knew Mrs. Coffin visited theHammond home occasionally, but this, too, he hesitated to do. He heardfrom others that the girl was bearing the suspense bravely, that sherefused to give up hope, and was winning the respect of all the thinkingclass in Trumet by her courage and patience. Even the most bigoted ofthe Regulars, Captain Daniels and his daughter excepted of course, hadcome to speak highly of her. "She's a spunky girl, " declared CaptainZeb, with emphasis. "There's nothing of the milk-sop and cry-baby abouther. She's fit to be a sailor's wife, and I only hope Nat's alive tocome back and marry her. He was a durn good feller, too--savin' yourpresence, Mr. Ellery--and if he was forty times a Come-Outer I'd say thesame thing. I'm 'fraid he's gone, though, poor chap. As good a seamanas he was would have fetched port afore this if he was atop of water. As for Gracie, she's a brick, and a lady, every inch of her. My oldgirl went down t'other day to call on her and that's the fust Come-Outershe's been to see sence there was any. Why don't you go see her, too, Mr. Ellery? 'Twould be a welcome change from Zeke Bassett and his tribe. Go ahead! it would be the Almighty's own work and the society'd standback of you, all them that's wuth considerin', anyhow. "

This was surprising advice from a member of the Regular and wasindicative of the changed feeling in the community, but the minister, ofcourse, could not take it. He had plunged headlong into his church work, hoping that it and time would dull the pain of his terrible shock anddisappointment. It had been dulled somewhat, but it was still there, andevery mention of her name revived it. 

One afternoon Keziah came into his study, where he was laboring with hisnext Sunday sermon, and sat down in the rocking-chair. She had been outand still wore her bonnet and shawl. 

"John, " she said, "I ask your pardon for disturbin' you. I know you'rebusy. "

Ellery laid down his pen. "Never too busy to talk with you, AuntKeziah, " he observed. "What is it?"

"I wanted to ask if you knew Mrs. Prince was sick?"

"No. Is she? I'm awfully sorry. Nothing serious, I hope?"

"No, I guess not. Only she's got a cold and is kind of under theweather. I thought p'r'aps you'd like to run up and see her. She thinksthe world and all of you, 'cause you was so good when she was distressedabout her son. Poor old thing! she's had a hard time of it. "

"I will go. I ought to go, of course. I'm glad you reminded me of it. "

"Yes. I told her you hadn't meant to neglect her, but you'd been busyfussin' with the fair and the like of that. "

"That was all. I'll go right away. Have you been there to-day?"

"No. I just heard that she was ailin' from Didama Rogers. Didama saidshe was all but dyin', so I knew she prob'ly had a little cold, orsomethin'. If she was really very bad, Di would have had her buried bythis time, so's to be sure her news was ahead of anybody else's. I ain'tbeen up there, but I met her t'other mornin'. "

"Didama?"

"No; Mrs. Prince. She'd come down to see Grace. "

"Oh. "

"Yes. The old lady's been awful kind and sympathizin' since--sincethis new trouble. It reminds her of the loss of her own boy, I presumelikely, and so she feels for Grace. John, what do they say around townabout--about HIM?"

"Captain Hammond?"

"Yes. "

The minister hesitated. Keziah did not wait for him to answer. 

"I see, " she said slowly. "Do they all feel that way?"

"Why, if you mean that they've all given up hope, I should hardly saythat. Captain Mayo and Captain Daniels were speaking of it in my hearingthe other day and they agreed that there was still a chance. "

"A pretty slim one, though, they cal'lated, didn't they?"

"Well, they were--were doubtful, of course. There was the possibilitythat he had been wrecked somewhere and hadn't been picked up. They citedseveral such cases. The South Pacific is full of islands where vesselsseldom touch, and he and his crew may be on one of these. "

"Yes. They might, but I'm afraid not. Ah, hum!"

She rose and was turning away. Ellery rose also and laid his hand on herarm. 

"Aunt Keziah, " he said, "I'm very sorry. I respected Captain Hammond, inspite of--of--in spite of everything. I've tried to realize that he wasnot to blame. He was a good man and I haven't forgotten that he saved mylife that morning on the flats. And I'm so sorry for YOU. "

She did not look at him. 

"John, " she answered, with a sigh, "sometimes I think you'd better getanother housekeeper. "

"What? Are you going to leave me? YOU?"

"Oh, 'twouldn't be because I wanted to. But it seems almost as if therewas a kind of fate hangin' over me and that, " she smiled faintly, "as if'twas sort of catchin', as you might say. Everybody I ever cared for hashad somethin' happen to 'em. My brother died; my--the man I married wentto the dogs; then you and Grace had to be miserable and I had to helpmake you so; I sent Nat away and he blamed me and--"

"No, no. He didn't blame you. He sent you word that he didn't. "

"Yes, but he did, all the same. He must have. I should if I'd been inhis place. And now he's dead, and won't ever understand--on this earth, anyhow. I guess I'd better clear out and leave you afore I spoil yourlife. "

"Aunt Keziah, you're my anchor to windward, as they say down here. IfI lost you, goodness knows where I should drift. Don't you ever talk ofleaving me again. "

"Thank you, John. I'm glad you want me to stay. I won't leave yetawhile; never--unless I have to. "

"Why should you ever have to?"

"Well, I don't know. Yes, I do know, too. John, I had another lettert'other day. "

"You did? From--from that man?"

"Yup, from--" For a moment it seemed as if she were about to pronounceher husband's name, something she had never done in his presence; but ifshe thought of it, she changed her mind. 

"From him, " she said. "He wanted money, of course; he always does. Butthat wa'n't the worst. The letter was from England, and in it he wrotethat he was gettin' sick of knockin' around and guessed he'd be forcomin' to the States pretty soon and huntin' me up. Said what was theuse of havin' an able-bodied wife if she couldn't give her husband ahome. "

"The scoundrel!"

"Yes, I know what he is, maybe full as well as you do. That's why Ispoke of leavin' you. If that man comes to Trumet, I'll go, sure asdeath. "

"No, no. Aunt Keziah, you must free yourself from him. No power on earthcan compel you to longer support such a--"

"None on earth, no. But it's my punishment and I've got to put up withit. I married him with my eyes wide open, done it to spite the--theother, as much as anything, and I must bear the burden. But I tell youthis, John: if he comes here, to this town, where I've been respectedand considered a decent woman, if he comes here, I go--somewhere, anywhere that'll be out of the sight of them that know me. And whereverI go he shan't be with me. THAT I won't stand! I'd rather die, and Ihope I do. Don't talk to me any more now--don't! I can't stand it. "

She hurried out of the room. Later, as the minister passed through thedining room on his way to the door, she spoke to him again. 

"John, " she said, "I didn't say what I meant to when I broke in on youjust now. I meant to tell you about Grace. I knew you'd like to know andwouldn't ask. She's bearin' up well, poor girl. She thought the world ofNat, even though she might not have loved him in the way that--"

"What's that? What are you saying, Aunt Keziah?"

"I mean--well, I mean that he'd always been like an own brother to herand she cared a lot for him. "

"But you said she didn't love him. "

"Did I? That was a slip of the tongue, maybe. But she bears it well andI don't think she gives up hope. I try not to, for her sake, and I trynot to show her how I feel. "

She sewed vigorously for a few moments. Then she said:

"She's goin' away, Gracie is. "

"Going away?"

"Yup. She's goin' to stay with a relation of the Hammonds over inConnecticut for a spell. I coaxed her into it. Stayin' here at homewith all this suspense and with Hannah Poundberry's tongue droppin'lamentations like kernels out of a corn sheller, is enough to kill ahealthy batch of kittens with nine lives apiece. She didn't want to go;felt that she must stay here and wait for news; but I told her we'd getnews to her as soon as it come, and she's goin'. "

Ellery took his hat from the peg and opened the door. His foot was onthe step when Keziah spoke again. 

"She--it don't mean nothin', John, except that she ain't so hard-heartedas maybe you might think--she's asked me about you 'most every time I'vebeen there. She told me to take good care of you. "

The door closed. Keziah put down her sewing and listened as theminister's step sounded on the walk. She rose, went to the windowand looked after him. She was wondering if she had made a mistake inmentioning Grace's name. She had meant to cheer him with the thoughtthat he was not entirely forgotten, that he was, at least, pitied; butperhaps it would have been better to have remained silent. Her gazeshifted and she looked out over the bay, blue and white in the sun andwind. When she was a girl the sea had been kind to her, it had broughther father home safe, and those homecomings were her pleasantestmemories. But she now hated it. It was cruel and cold and wicked. It hadtaken the man she loved and would have loved till she died, even thoughhe could never have been hers, and she had given him to another; it hadtaken him, killed him cruelly, perhaps. And now it might be bringing toher the one who was responsible for all her sorrow, the one she couldnot think of without a shudder. She clung to the window sash and prayedaloud. 

"Lord! Lord!" she pleaded, "don't put any more on me now. I couldn'tstand it! I couldn't!"

Ellery, too, was thinking deeply as he walked up the main road on hisway to Mrs. Prince's. Keziah's words were repeating themselves over andover in his brain. She had asked about him. She had not forgotten himaltogether. And what did the housekeeper mean by saying that she hadnot loved Captain Hammond in the way that--Not that it could make anydifference. Nothing could give him back his happiness. But what did itmean?

Mrs. Prince was very glad to see him. He found her in the big armchairwith the quilted back and the projecting "wings" at each side of herhead. She was wrapped in a "Rising Sun" quilt which was a patchworkglory of red and crimson. A young girl, a neighbor, who was apparentlyacting in the dual capacity of nurse and housekeeper, admitted him tothe old lady's presence. 

"Well, well!" she exclaimed delightedly. "Then you ain't forgot mealtogether. I'm awful glad to see you. You'll excuse me for not gettin'up; my back's got more pains in it than there is bones, a good sight. Dr. Parker says it's nothin' serious, and all I had to do was set stilland take his medicine. I told him that either the aches or the medicinemade settin' still serious enough, and when your only amusement islistenin' to Emeline Berry--she's the girl that's takin' care ofme--when your only fun is listenin' to Emeline drop your best dishes inthe kitchen sink, it's pretty nigh tragic. There! there! don't mind anold woman, Mr. Ellery. Set down and let's talk. It's a comfort to beable to say somethin' besides 'Don't, Emeline!' and 'Be sure you pick upall the pieces!'"

Mrs. Prince's good spirits were of short duration. Her conversation soonshifted to the loss of her son and she wept, using the corner of thequilt to wipe away her tears. "Eddie" had been her idol and, as shesaid, it was hard to believe what folks kept tellin' her, that it wasGod's will, and therefore all for the best. 

"That's so easy to say, " she sobbed. "Maybe it is best for the Lord, but how about me? I needed him more than they did up there, or I think Idid. O Mr. Ellery, I don't mean to be irreverent, but WHY was it all forthe best?"

Questions like this are hard to answer. The young minister tried, butthe answers were unsatisfactory, even to him. 

"And there's Nat Hammond, " continued Mrs. Prince. "A fine man--no betteranywhere, even though his father was a Come-Outer--just goin' tobe married and all, now they say he's drowned--why? Why was thatnecessary?"

Ellery could not reply. The old lady did not wait for him to do so. Themention of Captain Nat's name reminded her of other things. 

"Poor Gracie!" she said. "It's turrible hard on her. I went down to seeher two or three times afore I was took with this backache. She's anawful nice girl. And pretty as a pink, too. Don't you think so? Hey?don't you?"

"Yes. "

"Yes. I've been kind of expectin' she might get up to see me. HannahPoundberry told the Berrys that she said she was comin'. I don't careabout her bein' a Come-Outer. I ain't proud, Mr. Ellery. And there'sCome-Outers and COME-Outers. Proud! Lord 'a' mercy! what has an oldwoman, next door to the poorhouse, got to be proud over? Yes, she toldHannah she was comin', and the Berry folks thought it might be to-day. So I've been watchin' for her. What! you ain't agoin', Mr. Ellery?"

"I think I must, Mrs. Prince. "

"Oh, don't! Do stay a spell longer. Gracie might come and I'd likefor you to meet her. She needs sympathy and comfort an awful lot, andthere's no tellin', you might convert her to bein' a Reg'lar. Oh, yes, you might. You've got the most persuadin' way, everybody says so. Andyou don't know her very well, do you? Land sakes alive! talk aboutangels! I snum if she ain't comin' up the road this blessed minute. "

John Ellery had risen. Now he seized his hat and moved hastily towardthe door. Mrs. Prince called to him to remain, but he would not. However, her good-bys delayed him for a minute, and before he reachedthe yard gate Grace was opening it. They were face to face for the firsttime since they had parted in the grove, so many months before. 

She was thinner and paler, he saw that. And dressed very quietly inblack. She looked at him, as he stood before her in the path, and hercheeks flushed and her eyes fell. He stepped aside and raised his hat. 

She bowed gravely and murmured a "Good afternoon. " Then she passed on upthe path toward the door. He watched her for an instant and then steppedquickly after her. The black gown and the tired look in her eyes touchedhim to the heart. He could not let her go without a word. 

She turned at the sound of his step behind her. 

"Er--Miss Van Horne, " he stammered, "I merely wanted to tell you howdeeply I--we all feel for you in your trouble. I--I--I am so sorry. "

"Thank you, " she said simply, and after a moment's hesitation. 

"I mean it sincerely. I--I did not know Captain Hammond very well, butI respected and liked him the first time we met. I shall hopethat--that--it is not so serious as they fear. "

"Thank you, " she said again. "We are all hoping. "

"Yes. I--I--" It was dreadfully hard to get words together. "I haveheard so much of the captain from--"

"From Aunt Keziah? Yes, she was Nat's warmest friend. "

"I know. Er--Mrs. Coffin tells me you are going away. I hope you mayhear good news and soon. I shall think of you--of him--I want you tounderstand that I shall. "

The door opened and Emeline Berry appeared on the threshold. 

"Come right in, Grace, " she called. "Mrs. Prince wants you to. She'sahollerin' for you to hurry up. "

"Good-by, " said the minister. 

"Good-by. Thank you again. It was very kind of you to say this. "

"No, no. I mean it. "

"I know; that was why it was so kind. Good-by. "

She held out her hand and he took it. He knew that his was trembling, but so, too, was hers. The hands fell apart. Grace entered the house andJohn Ellery went out at the gate. 

That night Keziah, in the sitting room, trying to read, but findingit hard to keep her mind on the book, heard her parson pacing back andforth over the straw-matted floor of his chamber. She looked atthe clock; it was nearly twelve. She shut the book and sighed. Herwell-meant words of consolation had been a mistake, after all. Sheshould not have spoken Grace Van Horne's name. 

CHAPTER XVI

IN WHICH THE MINISTER BOARDS THE SAN JOSE

"Hey, Mr. Ellery!"

It was Captain Zeb Mayo who was calling. The captain sat in his antiquechaise, drawn by the antique white horse, and was hailing the parsonagethrough a speaking trumpet formed by holding both his big hands beforehis mouth. The reins he had tucked between the edge of the dashboard andthe whip socket. If he had thrown them on the ground he would still havebeen perfectly safe, with that horse. 

"Mr. Ellery, ahoy!" roared Captain Zeb through his hands. 

The window of Zoeth Peters's house, next door to the Regular church, was thrown up and Mrs. Peters's head, bound with a blue-and-whitehandkerchief in lieu of a sweeping cap, was thrust forth into the crispMarch air. 

"What is it, Cap'n Mayo?" screamed Mrs. Peters. "Hey?"

"Hey?" repeated Captain Zeb, peering round the chaise curtain. "Who'sthat?"

"It's me. Is somebody dead?"

"Who's me? Oh! No, Hettie, nobody's dead, though I'm likely to bust ablood vessel if I keep on yellin' much longer. Is the parson to home?"

"Hey?"

"Oh, heavens alive! I say is--Ha, there you be, Mr. Ellery. Mornin', Keziah. "

The minister and Mrs. Coffin, the former with a napkin in his hand, hademerged from the side door of the parsonage and now came hurrying downto the gate. 

"Land of Goshen!" exclaimed the captain, "you don't mean to tell meyou ain't done breakfast yet, and it after seven o'clock. Why, we'rethinkin' about dinner up to our house. "

Keziah answered. "Yes, " she said, "I shouldn't wonder. Your wife tellsme, Zeb, that the only time you ain't thinkin' about dinner is when youthink of breakfast or supper. We ain't so hungry here that we get upto eat in the middle of the night. What's the matter? Hettie Peters ishollerin' at you; did you know it?"

"Did I know it? Tut! tut! tut! I'd known it if I was a mile away, 'lessI was paralyzed in my ears. Let her holler; 'twill do her good and keepher in practice for Come-Outer meetin'. Why, Mr. Ellery, I tell you:Em'lous Sparrow, the fish peddler, stepped up to our house a few minutesago. He's just come down from the shanties over on the shore by thelight--where the wreck was, you know--and he says there's a 'morphroditebrig anchored three or four mile off and she's flyin' colors ha'f mastand union down. They're gettin' a boat's crew together to go off toher and see what's the row. I'm goin' to drive over and I thought maybeyou'd like to go along. I told the old lady--my wife, I mean--that Ithought of pickin' you up and she said 'twas a good idee. Said my likin'to cruise with a parson in my old age was either a sign that I washopeful or fearful, she didn't know which; and either way it ought to beencouraged. He, he, he! What do you say, Mr. Ellery? Want to go?"

The minister hesitated. "I'd like to, " he said. "I'd like to very much. But I ought to work on my sermon this morning. "

Keziah cut in here. "Cat's foot!" she sniffed. "Let your sermon go forthis once, do. If it ain't long enough as it is, you can begin againwhen you've got to the end and preach it over again. Didama Rogers said, last circle day, that she could set still and hear you preach right overn' over. I'd give her a chance, 'specially if it did keep her still. Keepin' Didama still is good Christian work, ain't it, Zeb?"

Captain Mayo slapped his knee. "He, he, he!" he chuckled. "Cal'lateyou're right, Keziah. "

"Indeed, I am. I believe it would be Christianity and I KNOW 'twould bework. There! there! run in and get your coat and hat, Mr. Ellery. I'llstep across and ease Hettie's mind and--and lungs. "

She went across the road to impart the news of the vessel in distress tothe curious Mrs. Peters. A moment later the minister, having donnedhis hat and coat, ran down the walk and climbed into the chaise besideCaptain Zeb. The white horse, stimulated into a creaky jog trot byrepeated slappings of the reins and roars to "Get under way!" and "Castoff!" moved along the sandy lane. 

During the drive the captain and his passenger discussed various topicsof local interest, among them Captain Nat Hammond and the manner inwhich he might have lost his ship and his life. It was now taken forgranted, in Trumet and elsewhere, that Nat was dead and would never beheard from again. The owners had given up, so Captain Zeb said, andwent on to enumerate the various accidents which might havehappened--typhoons, waterspouts, fires, and even attacks by Malaypirates--though, added the captain, "Gen'rally speakin', I'd ruther notbet on any pirate gettin' away with Nat Hammond's ship, if the skipperwas alive and healthy. Then there's mutiny and fevers and collisions, and land knows what all. And, speakin' of trouble, what do you cal'lateails that craft we're goin' to look at now?"

They found a group on the beach discussing that very question. A fewfishermen, one or two lobstermen and wreckers, and the lightkeeper weregathered on the knoll by the lighthouse. They had a spyglass, and agood-sized dory was ready for launching. 

"Where is she, Noah?" asked Captain Zeb of the lightkeeper. "That heroff back of the spar buoy? Let me have a squint through that glass;my eyes ain't what they used to be, when I could see a whale spout twomiles t'other side of the sky line and tell how many barrels of ile he'dtry out, fust look. Takes practice to keep your eyesight so's you cansee round a curve like that, " he added, winking at Ellery. 

"She's a brigantine, Zeb, " observed the keeper, handing up the spyglass. "And flyin' the British colors. Look's if she might be one of them saltboats from Turk's Islands. But what she's doin' out there, anchored, with canvas lowered and showin' distress signals in fair weather likethis, is more'n any of us can make out. She wa'n't there last evenin', though, and she is there now. "

"She ain't the only funny thing along shore this mornin', nuther, "announced Theophilus Black, one of the fishermen. "Charlie Burgess justcome down along and he says there's a ship's longboat hauled up on thebeach, 'bout a mile 'n a half t'other side the mouth of the herrin'crick yonder. Oars in her and all. And she ain't no boat that b'longsround here, is she, Charlie?"

"No, Thoph, she ain't, " was the reply. "Make anything out of her, cap'n?"

Captain Zeb, who had been inspecting the anchored vessel throughthe spyglass, lowered the latter and seemed puzzled. "Not much, " heanswered. "Blessed if she don't look abandoned to me. Can't see a signof life aboard her. "

"We couldn't neither, " said Thoph. "We was just cal'latin' to go off toher when Charlie come and told us about the longboat. I guess likely wecan go now; it's pretty nigh smooth as a pond. You'll take an oar, won'tyou, Noah?"

"I can't leave the light very well. My wife went over to the villagelast night. You and Charlie and Bill go. Want to go, too, Zeb?"

"No, I'll stay here, I guess. The old lady made me promise to keep myfeet dry afore I left the house. "

"You want to go, Mr. Ellery? Lots of room. "

The minister was tempted. The sea always had a fascination for him andthe mystery of the strange ship was appealing. 

"Sure I won't be in the way?"

"No, no! 'course you won't, " said Burgess. "Come right along. You set inthe bow, if you don't mind gettin' sprinkled once in a while. I'll steerand Thoph and Bill'll row. That'll be enough for one dory. If we needmore, we'll signal. Heave ahead. "

The surf, though low for that season of the year, looked dangerous toEllery, but his companions launched the dory with the ease which comesof experience. Burgess took the steering oar and Thoph and "Bill, " thelatter a lobsterman from Wellmouth Neck, bent their broad backs for thelong pull. The statement concerning the pondlike smoothness of the seawas something of an exaggeration. The dory climbed wave after wave, longand green and oily, at the top of each she poised, tipped and slid downthe slope. The minister, curled up in the bow on a rather uncomfortablecushion of anchor and roding, caught glimpses of the receding shore overthe crests behind. One minute he looked down into the face of Burgess, holding the steering oar in place, the next the stern was high above himand he felt that he was reclining on the back of his neck. But alwaysthe shoulders of the rowers moved steadily in the short, deep strokesof the rough water oarsman, and the beach, with the white light andred-roofed house of the keeper, the group beside it, and Captain Zeb'shorse and chaise, grew smaller and less distinct. 

"Humph!" grunted Charlie. 

"What's the matter?" asked Thoph. 

The steersman, who was staring hard in the direction they were going, scowled. 

"Humph!" he grunted again. "I swan to man, fellers, I believe she ISabandoned!"

"Rubbish!" panted Bill, twisting his neck to look over his shoulder. "'Course she ain't! Who'd abandon a craft such weather's this, andProvince-town harbor only three hours' run or so?"

"When it comes to that, " commented Burgess, "why should they anchor offhere, 'stead of takin' her in by the inlet? If there's anybody aboardthey ain't showed themselves yet. She might have been leakin', but shedon't look it. Sets up out of water pretty well. Well, we'll know in afew minutes. Hit her up, boys!"

The rowers "hit her up" and the dory moved faster. Then Burgess, puttinghis hand to his mouth, hailed. 

"Ship ahoy!" he roared. "Ahoy!"

No reply. 

"Ahoy the brig!" bellowed Burgess. "What's the matter aboard there? Allhands asleep?"

Still no answer. Thoph and Bill pulled more slowly now. Burgess noddedto them. 

"Stand by!" he ordered. "Easy! Way enough! Let her run. "

The dory slackened speed, turned in obedience to the steering oar, andslid under the forequarter of the anchored vessel. Ellery, looking up, saw her name in battered gilt letters above his head--the San Jose. 

"Stand by, Thoph!" shouted Charlie. "S'pose you can jump and grab herforechains? Hold her steady, Bill. Now, Thoph! That's the time!"

Thoph had jumped, seized the chains, and was scrambling aboard. A momentlater he appeared at the rail amidships, a rope in his hand. The dorywas brought alongside and made fast; then one after the other the men inthe boat climbed to the brig's deck. 

"Ahoy!" yelled Burgess. "All hands on deck! tumble up, you lubbers!Humph! She is abandoned, sure and sartin. "

"Yup, " assented Bill. "Her boats are gone. See? Guess that explains thelongboat on the beach, Charlie. "

"Cal'late it does; but it don't explain why they left her. She ain'tleakin' none to speak of, that's sure. Rides's light's a feather. Christmas! look at them decks; dirty hogs, whoever they was. "

The decks were dirty, and the sails, sloppily furled, were dirtylikewise. The brig, as she rolled and jerked at her anchor rope, wasdirty--and unkempt from stem to stern. To Ellery's mind she made alonesome picture, even under the clear, winter sky and bright sunshine. 

Thoph led the way aft. The cabin companion door was open and they peereddown. 

"Phew!" sniffed Burgess. "She ain't no cologne bottle, is she? Well, come on below and let's see what'll we see. "

The cabin was a "mess, " as Bill expressed it. The floor was coveredwith scattered heaps of riff-raff, oilskins, coats, empty bottles, andpapers. On the table a box stood, its hinged lid thrown back. 

"Medicine chest, " said Burgess, examining it. "And rum bottles aplenty. Somebody's been sick, I shouldn't wonder. "

The minister opened the door of one of the little staterooms. The lightwhich shone through the dirty and tightly closed "bull's-eye" windowshowed a tumbled bunk, the blankets soiled and streaked. The smell wasstifling. 

"Say, fellers, " whispered Thoph, "I don't like this much myself. I'm forgettin' on deck where the air's better. Somethin's happened aboard thiscraft, somethin' serious. "

Charlie and Bill nodded an emphatic affirmative. 

"Hadn't we better look about a little more?" asked Ellery. "There'sanother stateroom there. "

He opened the door of it as he spoke. It was, if possible, in a worsecondition than the first. And the odor was even more overpowering. 

"Skipper's room, " observed Burgess, peeping in. "And that bunk ain'tbeen slept in for weeks. See the mildew on them clothes. Phew! I'm fairsick to my stomach. Come out of this. "

On deck, in the sunlight, they held another consultation. 

"Queerest business ever I see, " observed Charlie. "I never--"

"I see somethin' like it once, " interrupted Bill. "Down in the Gulf'twas. I was on the old Fishhawk. Eben Salters's dad from over toBayport skippered her. We picked up a West Injy schooner, derelict, abandoned same as this one, but not anchored, of course. Yeller jack wasthe trouble aboard her and--Where you bound, Thoph?"

"Goin' to take a squint at the fo'castle, " replied Theophilus, movingforward. The minister followed him. 

The fo'castle hatchway was black and grim. Ellery knelt and peered down. Here there was practically no light at all and the air was fouler thanthat in the cabin. 

"See anything, Mr. Ellery?" asked Thoph, looking over his shoulder. 

"No, I don't see anything. But I thought--"

He seemed to be listening. 

"What did you think?"

"Nothing. I--"

"Hold on! you ain't goin' down there, be you? I wouldn't. No tellin'what you might find. Well, all right. I ain't curious. I'll stay up hereand you can report. "

He stepped over and leaned against the rail. Bill came across the deckand joined him. 

"Where's Charlie?" asked Thoph. 

"Gone back to the cabin, " was the answer. "Thought likely he might findsome of her papers or somethin' to put us on the track. I told him toheave ahead; I didn't want no part of it. Too much like that yeller-jackschooner to suit me. What's become of the parson?"

Thoph pointed to the open hatch. 

"Down yonder, explorin' the fo'castle, " he replied. "He can have thejob, for all me. Phew! Say, Bill, what IS this we've struck, anyhow?"

Ellery descended the almost perpendicular ladder gingerly, holding onwith both hands. At its foot he stopped and tried to accustom his eyesto the darkness. 

A room perhaps ten feet long, so much he could make out. The floorstrewn, like that of the cabin, with heaps of clothing and odds andends. More shapes of clothes hanging up and swaying with the roll of thebrig. A little window high up at the end, black with dirt. And cavities, bunks in rows, along the walls. A horrible hole. 

He took a step toward the center of the room, bending his head toavoid hitting the fo'castle lantern. Then in one of the bunks somethingstirred, something alive. He started violently, controlled himself withan effort, and stumbled toward the sound. 

"What is it?" he whispered. "Who is it? Is anyone there?"

A groan answered him. Then a voice, weak and quavering, said:

"Gimme a drink! Gimme a drink! Can't none of you God-forsaken devilsgive me a drink?"

He stooped over the bunk. A man was lying in it, crumpled into adreadful heap. He stooped lower, looked, and saw the man's face. 

There was a shout from the deck, or, rather, a yell. Then more yells andthe sound of running feet. 

"Mr. Ellery!" screamed Burgess, at the hatchway. "Mr. Ellery, for theAlmighty's sake, come up here! Come out of that this minute. Quick!"

The minister knew what was coming, was sure of it as he stepped to thefoot of the ladder, had known it the instant he saw that face. 

"Mr. Ellery!" shrieked Burgess. "Mr. Ellery, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here, " answered the minister, slowly. He was fighting with allhis might to keep his nerves under control. His impulse was to leapup those steps, rush across that deck, spring into the dory and row, anywhere to get away from the horror of that forecastle. 

"Come up!" called Burgess. "Hurry! It's the smallpox! The darnedhooker's rotten with it. For God sakes, come quick!"

He ran to the rail, yelling order to Bill and Thoph, who werefrantically busy with the dory. Ellery began to climb the ladder. Hishead emerged into the clean, sweet air blowing across the deck. He drewa breath to the very bottom of his lungs. 

Then from behind and below him came the voice again. 

"Gimme a drink!" it wailed. "Gimme a drink of water. Ain't one of youcussed swabs got decency enough to fetch me a drink? I'm dyin' for adrink, I tell you. I'm dyin'!"

The minister stood still, his feet on the ladder. The three men by therail were working like mad, their faces livid under the sunburn andtheir hands trembling. They pushed each other about and swore. They werenot cowards, either. Ellery knew them well enough to know that. Burgesshad, that very winter, pulled a skiff through broken ice in the faceof a wicked no'theaster to rescue an old neighbor whose dory had beencapsized in the bay while he was hauling lobster pots. But now Burgesswas as scared as the rest. 

Thoph and Bill sprang over the rail into the boat. Burgess turned andbeckoned to Ellery. 

"Come on!" he called. "What are you waitin' for?"

The minister remained where he was. 

"Are you sure--" he faltered. 

"Sure! Blast it all! I found the log. It ain't been kept for a fortni't, but there's enough. It's smallpox, I tell you. Two men died of it threeweeks ago. The skipper died right afterwards. The mate--No wonder themthat was left run away as soon as they sighted land. Come on! Do youwant to die, too?"

From the poison pit at the foot of the ladder the man in the bunk calledonce more. 

"Water!" he screeched. "Water! Are you goin' to leave me, you d--ncowards?"

"For Heaven sakes!" cried Burgess, clutching the rail, "what's that?"

Ellery answered him. "It's one of them, " he said, and his voice soundedodd in his own ears. "It's one of the crew. "

"One of the--Down THERE? Has he--"

"Yes, he has. "

"Help! help!" screamed the voice shrilly. "Are you goin' to leave me todie all alone? He-elp!"

The minister turned. "Hush!" he called, in answer to the voice, "hush!I'll bring you water in a minute. Burgess, " he added, "you and the restgo ashore. I shall stay. "

"You'll stay? You'll STAY? With THAT? You're crazy as a loon. Don't bea fool, man! Come on! We'll send the doctor and somebody else--some onethat's had it, maybe, or ain't afraid. I am and I'm goin'. Don't be afool. "

Thoph, from the dory, shouted to know what was the matter. Elleryclimbed the ladder to the deck and walked over to the rail. As heapproached, Burgess fell back a few feet. 

"Thoph, " said the minister, addressing the pair in the dory, "there isa sick man down in the forecastle. He has been alone there for hours, I suppose, certainly since his shipmates ran away. If he is left longerwithout help, he will surely die. Some one must stay with him. You andthe rest row ashore and get the doctor and whoever else you can. I'llstay here till they come. "

Thoph and his companions set up a storm of protest. It was foolish, itwas crazy, the man would die anyhow, and so on. They begged the ministerto come with them. But he was firm. 

"Don't stop to argue, " he urged. "Hurry and get the doctor. "

"Come on, Charlie, " ordered Bill. "No use talkin' to him, he's set. Comeon! I won't stay alongside this craft another minute for nobody. If yoube comin', come. "

Burgess, still protesting, clambered over the rail. The dory swung clearof the brig. The rowers settled themselves for the stroke. 

"Better change your mind, Mr. Ellery, " pleaded Charlie. "I hate to leaveyou this way. It seems mean, but I'm a married man with children, likethe rest of us here, and I can't take no risks. Better come, too. No?Well, we'll send help quick as the Lord'll let us. By the Almighty!" headded, in a sudden burst, "you've got more spunk than I have--yes, oranybody I ever come across. I'll say that for you, if you are a parson. Give way, fellers. "

The oars dipped, bent, and the dory moved off. The sound of the creakingthole pins shot a chill through Ellery's veins. His knees shook, andinvoluntarily a cry for them to come back rose to his lips. But hechoked it down and waved his hand in farewell. Then, not trustinghimself to look longer at the receding boat, he turned on his heel andwalked toward the forecastle. 

The water butts stood amidships, not far from the open door of thegalley. Entering the latter he found an empty saucepan. This he filledfrom the cask, and then, with it in his hand, turned toward the blackhatchway. Here was the greatest test of his courage. To descend thatladder, approach that bunk, and touch the terrible creature in it, thesewere the tasks he had set himself to do, but could he?

Vaccination in those days was by no means the universal custom that itnow is. And smallpox, even now, is a disease the name of which strikespanic to a community. The minister had been vaccinated when he was achild, but that was--so it seemed to him--a very long time ago. Andthat forecastle was so saturated with the plague that to enter it meantalmost certain infection. He had stayed aboard the brig because thepitiful call for help had made leaving a cowardly impossibility. Now, face to face, and in cold blood, with the alternative, it seemed neitherso cowardly or impossible. The man would die anyhow, so Thoph had said;was there any good reason why he should risk dying, too, and dying inthat way?

He thought of a great many things and of many people as he stood by thehatchway, waiting; among others, he thought of his housekeeper, Keziah Coffin. And, somehow, the thought of her, of her pluck, and herself-sacrifice, were the very inspirations he needed. "It's the dutythat's been laid on me, " Keziah had said, "and it's a hard one, but Idon't run away from it. " He began to descend the ladder. 

The sick man was raving in delirium when he reached him, but the soundof the water lapping the sides of the saucepan brought him to himself. He seized Ellery by the arm and drank and drank. When at last hedesisted, the pan was half empty. 

The minister laid him gently back in the bunk and stepped to the foot ofthe ladder for breath. This made him think of the necessity for air inthe place and he remembered the little window. It was tightly closedand rusted fast. He went up to the deck, found a marlin spike, and, returning, broke the glass. A sharp, cold draught swept through theforecastle, stirring the garments hanging on the nails. 

An hour later, two dories bumped against the side of the San Jose. Men, talking in low tones, climbed over the rail. Burgess was one of them;ashamed of his panic, he had returned to assist the others in bringingthe brigantine into a safer anchorage by the inlet. 

Dr. Parker, very grave but businesslike, reached the deck among thefirst. 

"Mr. Ellery, " he shouted, "where are you?"

The minister's head and shoulders appeared at the forecastle companion. "Here I am, doctor, " he said. "Will you come down?"

The doctor made no answer in words, but he hurried briskly across thedeck. One man, Ebenezer Capen, an old fisherman and ex-whaler fromEast Trumet, started to follow him, but he was the only one. The otherswaited, with scared faces, by the rail. 

"Get her under way and inshore as soon as you can, " ordered Dr. Parker. "Ebenezer, you can help. If I need you below, I'll call. "

The minister backed down the ladder and the doctor followed him. Parkerbent over the bunk for a few moments in silence. 

"He's pretty bad, " he muttered. "Mighty little chance. Heavens, what aden! Who broke that window?"

"I did, " replied Ellery. "The air down here was dreadful. "

The doctor nodded approvingly. "I guess so, " he said. "It's bad enoughnow. We've got to get this poor fellow out of here as soon as we can orhe'll die before to-morrow. Mr. Ellery, " he added sharply, "what madeyou do this? Don't you realize the risk you've run?"

"Some one had to do it. You are running the same risk. "

"Not just the same, and, besides, it's my business. Why didn't you letsome one else, some one we could spare--Humph! Confound it, man! didn'tyou know any better? Weren't you afraid?"

His tone rasped Ellery's shaken nerves. 

"Of course I was, " he snapped irritably. "I'm not an idiot. "

"Humph! Well, all right; I beg your pardon. But you oughtn't to havedone it. Now you'll have to be quarantined. And who in thunder I can getto stay with me in this case is more than I know. Just say smallpox tothis town and it goes to pieces like a smashed egg. Old Eb Capen willhelp, for he's had it, but it needs more than one. "

"Where are you going to take--him?" pointing to the moaning occupant ofthe bunk. 

"To one of the empty fish shanties on the beach. There are beds there, such as they are, and the place is secluded. We can burn it down whenthe fuss is over. "

"Then why can't I stay? I shall have to be quarantined, I know that. Letme be the other nurse. Why should anyone else run the risk? I HAVE runit. I'll stay. "

Dr. Parker looked at him. "Well!" he exclaimed. "Well! I must say, youngman, that you've got--Humph! All right, Mr. Ellery; I'm much obliged. "

CHAPTER XVII

IN WHICH EBENEZER CAPEN IS SURPRISED

Before sunset that afternoon the San Jose was anchored behind the pointby the inlet. The fishing boats changed moorings and moved fartherup, for not a single one of their owners would trust himself within ahundred yards of the stricken brigantine. As soon as the anchors weredropped, the volunteer crew was over side and away, each of its membersto receive a scolding from his family for taking such a risk and to havehis garments sulphur-smoked or buried. Charlie Burgess, whose wife wassomething of a Tartar, observed ruefully that he "didn't take no comfort'round home nowadays; between the smell of brimstone and the jawin's'twas the hereafter ahead of time. "

The largest of the beach shanties, one which stood by itself a quarterof a mile from the light, was hurriedly prepared for use as a pesthouseand the sick sailor was carried there on an improvised stretcher. Dr. Parker and Ellery lifted him from his berth and, assisted by oldEbenezer Capen, got him up to the deck and lowered him into the dory. Ebenezer rowed the trio to the beach and the rest of the journey wascomparatively easy. 

The shanty had three rooms, one of which was given up to the patient, one used as a living room, and, in the third, Capen and the ministerwere to sleep. Mattresses were procured, kind-hearted and sympathizingtownspeople donated cast-off tables and chairs, and the building wasmade as comfortable as it could be, under the circumstances. Signboards, warning strangers to keep away, were erected, and in additionto them, the Trumet selectmen ordered ropes stretched across the lane onboth sides of the shanty. But ropes and signs were superfluous. Trumetin general was in a blue funk and had no desire to approach within amile of the locality. Even the driver of the grocery cart, when he leftthe day's supply of provisions, pushed the packages under the ropes, yelled a hurried "Here you be!" and, whipping up his horse, departed ata rattling gallop. 

The village sat up nights to discuss the affair and every day broughta new sensation. The survivors of the San Jose's crew, a wretched, panic-stricken quartette of mulattos and Portuguese, were apprehendedon the outskirts of Denboro, the town below Trumet on the bay side, and were promptly sequestered and fumigated, pending shipment to thehospital at Boston. Their story was short but grewsome. The brigantinewas not a Turks Islands boat, but a coaster from Jamaica. She had sailedwith a small cargo for Savannah. Two days out and the smallpox made itsappearance on board. The sufferer, a negro foremast hand, died. Thenanother sailor was seized and also died. The skipper, who was the owner, was the next victim, and the vessel was in a state of demoralizationwhich the mate, an Englishman named Bradford, could not overcome. Thenfollowed days and nights of calm and terrible heat, of pestilenceand all but mutiny. The mate himself died. There was no one left whounderstood navigation. At last came a southeast gale and the San Josedrove before it. Fair weather found her abreast the Cape. The survivorsran her in after dark, anchored, and reached shore in the longboat. Thesick man whom they had left in the forecastle was a new hand who hadshipped at Kingston. His name was Murphy, they believed. They had lefthim because he was sure to die, like the others, and, besides, they knewsome one would see the distress signals and investigate. That was all, yes. Santa Maria! was it not enough?

This tale was a delicious tidbit for Didama and the "daily advertisers, "but, after all, it was a mere side dish compared to Mr. Ellery'sastonishing behavior. That he, the minister of the Regular church, should risk his life, risk dying of the smallpox, to help a strangerand a common sailor, was incomprehensible. Didama, at least, could notunderstand it, and said so. "My soul and body!" she exclaimed, withuplifted hands. "I wouldn't go nigh my own grandfather if he had thesmallpox, let alone settin' up with a strange critter that I didn'tknow from Adam's cat. And a minister doin' it! He ought to consider thecongregation, if he done nothin' else. Ain't we more important than acommon water rat that, even when he's dyin', swears, so I hear tell, like a ship's poll parrot? I never heard of such foolishness. It beatsME!"

It "beat" a good many who, like the Widow Rogers, could not understandself-sacrifice. But there were more, and they the majority of Trumet'sintelligent people, who understood and appreciated. Dr. Parker, a manwith a reputation for dangerously liberal views concerning religiousmatters and an infrequent attendant at church, was enthusiastic andprodigal of praise. 

"By George!" vowed the doctor. "That's MY kind of Christianity. That'sthe kind of parson I can tie to. I'm for John Ellery after this, first, last, and all the time. And if he don't get the smallpox and die, andif he does live to preach in the Regular church, you'll see me in one ofthe front pews every Sunday. That's what I think of him. Everybody elseran away and I don't blame 'em much. But he stayed. Yes, sir, by George!he stayed. 'Somebody had to do it, ' says he. I take off my hat to thatyoung fellow. "

Captain Zeb Mayo went about cheering for his parson. Mrs. Mayo cookeddelicacies to be pushed under the ropes for the minister's consumption. The parish committee, at a special session, voted an increase of salaryand ordered a weekly service of prayer for the safe delivery of theiryoung leader from danger. Even Captain Elkanah did not try to opposethe general opinion; "although I cannot but feel, " he said, "that Mr. Ellery's course was rash and that he should have considered us and ourinterest in his welfare before--"

"Dum it all!" roared Captain Zeb, jumping to his feet and interrupting, "he didn't consider himself, did he? and ain't he as important TOhimself as you, Elkanah Daniels, or anybody else in this meetin' house?Bah! don't let's have no more talk like that or I'll say somethin' thatwon't be fit to put in the minutes. "

Even at Come-Outers' meeting, when Ezekiel Bassett hinted at a "justpunishment fallin' on the head of the leader of the Pharisees, " ThophBlack rose and defended Ellery. 

Keziah Coffin was, perhaps, the one person most disturbed by herparson's heroism. She would have gone to the shanty immediately had notDr. Parker prevented. Even as it was, she did go as far as the ropes, but there she was warded off by Ebenezer until Ellery came running outand bade her come no nearer. 

"But you shan't stay here, Mr. Ellery, " vowed Keziah. "Or, if you do, I'll stay, too. I ain't afraid of smallpox. "

"I am, " confessed the minister, "and I'm not going to let anyone I carefor expose themselves to it unnecessarily. If you try to come in here Ishall"--he smiled--"well, Capen and I will put you off the premises byforce. There!"

Keziah smiled, too, in spite of herself. "Maybe you'd have your handsfull, " she said. "O John, what in the world made you do this thing? It'sdreadful. I shan't sleep a wink, thinkin' of you. I just must come hereand help. "

"No, you mustn't. You can come as far as the--the dead line once ina while, if Captain Mayo will drive you over, but that's all. I'm allright. Don't worry about me. I'm feeling tiptop and I'm not going to besick. Now go home and make me some of that--some of those puddings ofyours. We can use them to advantage, can't we, Capen?"

"Bet yer!" replied Ebenezer with enthusiasm. Keziah, after moreexpostulation, went back to the parsonage, where the puddings were madeand seasoned with tears and fervent prayers. She wrote to Grace and toldher the news of the San Jose, but she said nothing of the minister'spart in it. "Poor thing!" sighed Keziah, "she's bearin' enough already. Her back ain't as strong as mine, maybe, and mine's most crackin'. Well, let it crack for good and all; I don't know but that's the easiest wayout. "

The sick sailor grew no better. Days and nights passed and he ravedand moaned or lay in a stupor. Ebenezer acted as day nurse while Elleryslept, and, at night, the minister, being younger, went on watch. Thedoctor came frequently, but said there was no hope. A question of timeonly, and a short time, he said. 

Capen occupied his mind with speculations concerning the patient. 

"Do you know, parson, " he said, "seem's if I'd seen the fellersomewheres afore. 'Course I never have, but when I used to go whalin'v'yages I cruised from one end of creation to t'other, pretty nigh, and I MIGHT have met him. However, his own folks wouldn't know him now, would they? so I cal'late I'm just gettin' foolish in my old age. Saidhis name's Murphy, them ha'f-breeds did, didn't they? I know better'nthat. "

"How do you know?" asked Ellery, idly listening. 

"'Cause when he's floppin' round on the bed, out of his head, he singsout all kinds of stuff. A good deal of it's plain cussin', but there'stimes when he talks respectable and once I heard him say 'darn' andanother time 'I cal'late. ' Now no Irishman says THAT. That's Yankee, that is. "

"Well, he ought to know his own name. "

"Prob'ly he does--or used to--but 'most likely he don't want nobody elseto know it. That's why he said 'twas Murphy and, bein' as he DID say it, I know 'tain't it. See my argument, don't you, Mr. Ellery?"

"Yes, I guess so. "

"Um--hm! Why, land sakes, names don't mean nothin' with seafarin' men. I've seen the time when I had more names--Humph! Looks kind of squallyoff to the east'ard, don't it?"

That night the sick man was much worse. His ravings were incessant. Theminister, sitting in his chair in the living room, by the cook stove, could hear the steady stream of shouts, oaths, and muttered fragments ofdialogue with imaginary persons. Sympathy for the sufferer he felt, of course, and yet he, as well as Dr. Parker and old Capen, had heardenough to realize that the world would be none the worse for losing thisparticular specimen of humanity. The fellow had undoubtedly lived a hardlife, among the roughest of companions afloat and ashore. Even Ebenezer, who by his own confession, was far from being a saint, exclaimeddisgustedly at the close of a day's watching by the sick bed: "Phew! Ifeel's if I'd been visiting state's prison. Let me set out doors a spelland listen to the surf. It's clean, anyhow, and that critter's talkmakes me want to give my brains a bath. "

The wooden clock, loaned by Mrs. Parker, the doctor's wife, tickedsteadily, although a half hour slow. Ellery, glancing at it to see ifthe time had come for giving medicine, suddenly noticed how loud itsticking sounded. Wondering at this, he was aware there was no othersound in the house. He rose and looked in at the door of the adjoiningroom. The patient had ceased to rave and was lying quiet on the bed. 

The minister tiptoed over to look at him. And, as he did so, the manopened his eyes. 

"Halloo!" he said faintly. "Who are you?"

Ellery, startled, made no answer. 

"Who are you?" demanded the man again. Then, with an oath, he repeatedthe question, adding: "What place is this? This ain't the fo'castle. Where am I?"

"You're ashore. You've been sick. Don't try to move. "

"Sick? Humph! Sick? 'Course I been sick. Don't I know it? The d--ncowards run off and left me; blast their eyes! I'll fix 'em for it oneof these days, you hear--"

"Sshh!"

"Hush up yourself. Where am I?"

"You're ashore. On Cape Cod. At Trumet. "

"Trumet! TRUMET!"

He was struggling to raise himself on his elbow. Ellery was obliged touse force to hold him down. 

"Hush! hush!" pleaded the minister, "you mustn't try to--"

"Trumet! I ain't. You're lyin'. Trumet! Good God! Who brought me here?Did she--Is she--"

He struggled again. Then his strength and his reason left himsimultaneously and the delirium returned. He began to shout a name, aname that caused Ellery to stand upright and step back from the bed, scarcely believing his ears. 

All the rest of that night the man on the bed raved and muttered, but ofpeople and places and happenings which he had not mentioned before. Andthe minister, listening intently to every word, caught himself wonderingif he also was not losing his mind. 

When the morning came, Ebenezer Capen was awakened by a shake to findJohn Ellery standing over him. 

"Capen, " whispered the minister, "Capen, get up. I must talk with you. "

Ebenezer was indignant. 

"Judas priest!" he exclaimed; "why don't you scare a feller to death, comin' and yankin' him out of bed by the back hair?" Then, being morewide awake, he added: "What's the row? Worse, is he? He ain't--"

"No. But I've got to talk with you. You used to be a whaler, I know. Were you acquainted in New Bedford?"

"Sartin. Was a time when I could have located every stick in it, prettynigh, by the smell, if you'd set me down side of 'em blindfold. "

"Did you ever know anyone named--" He finished the sentence. 

"Sure and sartin, I did. Why?"

"Did you know him well?"

"Well's I wanted to. Pretty decent feller one time, but a fast goer, andwent downhill like a young one's sled, when he got started. His folkshad money, that was the trouble with him. Why, 'course I knew him! Hemarried--"

"I know. Now, listen. "

Ellery went on talking rapidly and with great earnestness. Ebenezerlistened, at first silently, then breaking in with ejaculations andgrunts of astonishment. He sat up on the edge of the bed. 

"Rubbish!" he cried at last, "why, 'tain't possible! The feller's deadas Methusalem's grandmarm. I remember how it happened and--"

"It wasn't true. That much I know. I KNOW, I tell you. "

He went on to explain why he knew. Capen's astonishment grew. 

"Judas priest!" he exclaimed again. "That would explain why I thoughtI'd seen--There! heave ahead. I've got to see. But it's a mistake. Idon't believe it. "

The pair entered the sick room. The sailor lay in a stupor. Hisbreathing was rapid, but faint. Capen bent over him and gently moved thebandage on his face. For a full minute he gazed steadily. Then he stooderect, drew a big red hand across his forehead, and moved slowly back tothe living room. 

"Well?" asked Ellery eagerly. 

Ebenezer sat down in the rocker. "Judas priest!" he said for the thirdtime. "Don't talk to ME! When it comes my time they'll have to prove I'mdead. I won't believe it till they do. Ju-das PRIEST!"

"Then you recognize him?"

The old man nodded solemnly. 

"Yup, " he said, "it's him. Mr. Ellery, what are you goin' to do aboutit?"

"I don't know. I don't know. I must go somewhere by myself and think. Idon't know WHAT to do. "

The minister declined to wait for breakfast. He said he was not hungry. Leaving Ebenezer to put on the coffeepot and take up his duties as daynurse, Ellery walked off along the beach. The "dead line" prevented hisgoing very far, but he sat down in the lee of a high dune and thoughtuntil his head ached. What should he do? What was best for him to do?

He heard the rattle of the doctor's chaise and the voices of Ebenezerand Parker in conversation. He did not move, but remained where he was, thinking, thinking. By and by he heard Capen calling his name. 

"Mr. Ellery!" shouted Ebenezer. "Mr. Ellery, where be you?"

"Here!" replied the minister. 

The old man came scrambling over the sand. He was panting and muchexcited. 

"Mr. Ellery!" he cried, "Mr. Ellery! it's settled for us--one part ofit, anyhow. He's slipped his cable. "

"What?" The minister sprang up. 

"Yup. He must have died just a little while after you left and after Igave him his medicine. I thought he looked kind of queer then. And whenthe doctor came we went in together and he was dead. Yes, sir, dead. "

"Dead!"

"Um--hm. No doubt of it; it's for good this time. Mr. Ellery, what shallwe do? Shall I tell Dr. Parker?"

Ellery considered for a moment. "No, " he said slowly. "No, Capen, don'ttell anyone. I can't see why they need ever know that he hasn't beendead for years, as they supposed. Promise me to keep it a secret. I'lltell--her--myself, later on. Now promise me; I trust you. "

"Land sakes, yes! I'll promise, if you want me to. I'm a widower man, sothere'll be nobody to coax it out of me. I guess you're right, cal'lateyou be. What folks don't know they can't lie about, can they? and that'sgood for your business--meanin' nothin' disreverent. I'll promise, Mr. Ellery; I'll swear to it. Now come on back to the shanty. The doctorwants you. "

The next day the body of "Murphy, " foremast hand on the San Jose, wasburied in the corner of the Regular graveyard, near those who weredrowned in the wreck of that winter. There was no funeral, of course. The minister said a prayer at the shanty, and that was all. Ebenezerdrove the wagon which was used as hearse for the occasion, and filled inthe grave himself. So great was the fear of the terrible smallpox thatthe sexton would not perform even that service for its victim. 

Capen remained at the shanty another week. Then, as the minister showedno symptoms of having contracted the disease and insisted that he neededno companion, Ebenezer departed to take up his fishing once more. Theold man was provided with a new suit of clothes, those he had worn beingburned, and having been, to his huge disgust, fumigated until, as hesaid, he couldn't smell himself without thinking of a match box, wentaway. The room which the dead sailor had occupied was emptied and sealedtight. The San Jose was to stay at her anchorage a while longer. Then, when all danger was past, she was to be towed to Boston and sold atauction for the benefit of the heirs of her dead skipper and owner. 

Ellery himself was most urgent in the decision that he should not goback to the parsonage and his church just yet. Better to wait until hewas sure, he said, and Dr. Parker agreed. "I'd be willing to bet thatyou are all right, " declared the latter, "but I know Trumet, and if ISHOULD let you go and you did develop even the tail end of a case ofvarioloid--well, 'twould be the everlasting climax for you and me inthis county. "

Staying alone was not unpleasant, in a way. The "dead line" stillremained, of course, and callers did not attempt to pass it, but theycame more frequently and held lengthy conversations at a respectfuldistance. Ellery did his own cooking, what little there was to do, butso many good things were pushed under the ropes that he was in a fairway to develop weight and indigestion. Captain Zeb Mayo drove down atleast twice a week and usually brought Mrs. Coffin with him. From themand from the doctor the prisoner learned the village news. Once CaptainElkanah and Annabel came, and the young lady's gushing praise of theminister's "heroism" made its recipient almost sorry he had ever heardof the San Jose. 

Dr. Parker told him of Grace Van Horne's return to the village. She hadcome back, so the doctor said, the day before, and was to live at thetavern for a while, at least. Yes, he guessed even she had given up hopeof Captain Nat now. 

"And say, " went on Parker, "how are you feeling?"

"Pretty well, thank you, " replied the minister. "I seem to be rathertired and good for nothing. More so than I was during the worst of it. "

"No wonder. A chap can't go through what you did and not feel somereaction. I expected that. Don't get cold, that's all. But what I wantto know is whether you think I could leave you for a couple of days?The Ostable County Medical Society meets at Hyannis to-morrow and I hadpromised myself to take it in this year. But I don't want to leave you, if you need me. "

Ellery insisted that he did not need anyone, was getting along finely, and would not hear of his friend's missing the medical society'smeeting. So the physician went. 

"Good-by, " he called as he drove off. "I guess your term is prettynearly over. I shall let you out of jail inside of four or five days, ifyou behave yourself. "

This should have been cheering news, but, somehow, John Ellery did notfeel cheerful that afternoon. The tired feeling he had spoken of solightly was worse than he had described it, and he was despondent, forno particular reason. That night he slept miserably and awoke with achill to find a cold, pouring rain beating against the windows of theshanty. 

He could not eat and he could not keep warm, even with the cook-stovetop red hot and a blanket over his shoulders. By noon the chill hadgone and he was blazing with fever. Still the rain and the wind, and novisitors at the ropes, not even the light-keeper. 

He lay down on his bed and tried to sleep, but though he dozed a bit, woke always with a start and either a chill or fever fit. His head beganto ache violently. And then, in the lonesomeness and misery, fear beganto take hold of him. 

He remembered the symptoms the doctor had warned him against, headache, fever, and all the rest. He felt his wrists and arms and began toimagine that beneath the skin were the little bunches, like small shot, that were the certain indications. Then he remembered how that other manhad looked, how he had died. Was he to look that way and die like that?And he was all alone, they had left him alone. 

Night came. The rain had ceased and stars were shining clear. Inside theshanty the minister tossed on the bed, or staggered back and forth aboutthe two rooms. He wondered what the time might be; then he did not care. He was alone. The smallpox had him in its grip. He was alone and hewas going to die. Why didn't some one come? Where was Mrs. Coffin? AndGrace? She was somewhere near him--Parker had said so--and he must seeher before he died. He called her name over and over again. 

The wind felt cold on his forehead. He stumbled amidst the beach grass. What was this thing across his path? A rope, apparently, but why shouldthere be ropes in that house? There had never been any before. Heclimbed over it and it was a climb of hundreds of feet and the heightmade him giddy. That was a house, another house, not the one he had beenliving in. And there were lights all about. Perhaps one of them was thelight at the parsonage. And a big bell was booming. That was his churchbell and he would be late for the meeting. 

Some one was speaking to him. He knew the voice. He had known it alwaysand would know it forever. It was the voice he wanted to hear. "Grace!"he called. "Grace! I want you. Don't go! Don't go! Grace! oh, my dear!don't go!"

Then the voice had gone. No, it had not gone. It was still there and heheard it speaking to him, begging him to listen, pleading with him togo somewhere, go back, back to something or other. And there was an armabout his waist and some one was leading him, helping him. He broke downand cried childishly and some one cried with him. 

Early the next morning, just as day was breaking, a buggy, the horsewhich drew it galloping, rocked and bumped down the lighthouse lane. Dr. Parker, his brows drawn together and his lips set with anxiety, wasdriving. He had been roused from sleep in the hotel at Hyannis by a boywith a telegram. "Come quick, " it read. "Mr. Ellery sick. " The senderwas Noah Ellis, the lightkeeper. The doctor had hired a fast horse, ridden at top speed to Bayport, gotten a fresh horse there and hurriedon. He stopped at his own house but a moment, merely to rouse his wifeand ask her if there was any fresh news. But she had not even heard ofthe minister's seizure. 

"My soul, Will!" she cried, "you don't think it's the smallpox, do you?"

"Lord knows! I'm afraid so, " groaned her husband. "WHAT made me leavehim? I ought to have known better. If that boy dies, I'll never drawanother easy breath. "

He rushed out, sprang into the buggy, and drove on. At the ropes, earlyas it was, he found a small group waiting and gazing at the shanty. The lightkeeper was there and two or three other men. They were talkingearnestly. 

"How is he, Noah?" demanded the doctor, jumping to the ground. 

"I don't know, doc, " replied Ellis. "I ain't heard sence last night whenI telegraphed you. "

"Haven't heard? What do you mean by that? Haven't you been with him?"

"No-o, " was the rather sheepish reply. "You see, I--I wanted to, but mywife's awful scart I'll catch it and--"

"The devil!" Dr. Parker swore impatiently. "Who is with him then? Youhaven't left him alone, have you?"

"No-o, " Noah hesitated once more. "No-o, he ain't alone. She's there. "

"She? Who? Keziah Coffin?"

"I don't cal'late Keziah's heard it yet. We was waitin' for you 'fore wesaid much to anybody. But she's there--the--the one that found him. Yousee, he was out of his head and wanderin' up the lane 'most to the mainroad and she'd been callin' on Keziah and when she come away from theparsonage she heard him hollerin' and goin' on and--"

"Who did?"

"Why"--the lightkeeper glanced at his companions--"why, doc, 'twas GraceVan Horne. And she fetched him back to the shanty and then come and gotme to telegraph you. "

"Grace Van Horne! Grace Van--Do you mean to say she is there with himNOW?"

"Yes. She wouldn't leave him. She seemed 'most as crazy's he was. Mywife and me, we--"

But Parker did not wait to hear the rest. He ran at full speed to thedoor of the shanty. Grace herself opened it. 

"How is he?" demanded the doctor. 

"I think he seems a little easier; at any rate, he's not delirious. He'sin there. Oh, I'm so thankful you've come. "

"Is that the doctor?" called Ellery weakly from the next room. "Is it?"

"Yes, " replied Parker, throwing off his coat and hat. "Coming, Mr. Ellery. "

"For God's sake, doctor, send her away. Don't let her stay. Make her go. Make her GO! I've got the smallpox and if she stays she will die. Don'tyou understand? she MUST go. "

"Hush, John, " said Grace soothingly. "Hush, dear. "

Dr. Parker stopped short and looked at her. She returned the look, butwithout the slightest semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment. She did not realize that she had said anything unusual, which mustsound inexplicably strange to him. Her thoughts were centered in thatadjoining room and she wondered why he delayed. 

"Well?" she asked impatiently. "What is it? Why do you wait?"

The doctor did not answer. However, he waited no longer, but hurried into his new patient. 

CHAPTER XVIII

IN WHICH KEZIAH DECIDES TO FIGHT

The news was flying from house to house along the main road. Breakfastswere interrupted as some neighbor rushed in to tell the story whichanother neighbor had brought to him or her. Mr. Ellery was very sickand it was feared he had the smallpox, that was what Mrs. Parker, thedoctor's wife, told those who lived near her. By the time the Cornersheard of it the tale had grown until the minister was said to be dying. And when it reached Gaius Winslow's home at the upper end of the town hewas reported dead. This was denied, upon investigation, but soon anotherrumor grew and spread; Grace Van Horne was with him, had taken him backto the shanty, and insisted upon staying there until the doctor came. Facing that dreadful disease and--It was wonderful--and queer. 

At the Danielses' house the servant girl rushed into the dining room toserve the toast and the story at one swoop. Captain Elkanah's dignitydeserted him for an instant and his egg spoon jingled to the floor. Annabel's face turned a dull red. Her eyes flashed sparks. 

"Pa!" she cried, "I--I--if you don't do something now I'll never--"

Her father shook his head warningly. "Debby, " he said to the maid, "youneedn't wait. "

Debby departed reluctantly. After the kitchen door had closed, CaptainElkanah said: "My dear, we mustn't be too hasty in this matter. Remember, Mr. Ellery is very sick. As for--for the Van Horne girl, wehaven't heard the whole truth yet. She may not be there at all, or itmay be just an accident--"

"Accident! Pa, you make me boil. Accident! Accidents like that don'thappen. If you let her stay there, or if--Oh, to think of it! And wewere calling him a hero and--and everything! Hero! he stayed there justso she might--"

"Hush! hush, child!"

"I shan't hush. Pa, are you going to let him disgrace himself with HER?"

"No, no. Probably there ain't any idea of his marrying her. If thereis--"

"If there is you put him out of the church and out of this town. Andas for HER--O-oh! And we've been having him here at dinner and--and Ihave--Oh, I shall die! I wish I WAS dead!"

Then followed hysterics and agony, greedily listened to by Debby, whoseear was at the crack of the door. Captain Elkanah soothed and pleadedand tried to pacify. It ended by his promising to investigate and, ifnecessary, take steps 'immejitly. '

Lavinia Pepper sprung the mine on her brother. Kyan was horrified. Hehad grown to be one of Ellery's most devoted worshipers. 

"Smallpox!" he groaned. "The minister got the smallpox. Oh! that'sturrible. "

"Ain't it?" observed his sister, also horrified, but rather relishingthe horror. "And if it hadn't been for Gracie Van Horne--"

"WHAT?"

"What's the matter with you? I say, if Gracie Van Horne hadn't happenedto meet him, wanderin' around, crazy as a coot, and toted him back--"

"Gracie--Van--Horne! Godfreys mighty! She--she met him? Where? Down toPeters's grove, was it?"

"Peters's grove! No. What on earth made you think 'twas there? She'dbeen visitin' Keziah Coffin at the parsonage, and when she come outon the main road she heard him aravin' down the lane. Must have passedright by this house and we never heard him. I never see such a dead manas you be when you're asleep. You don't SOUND dead, I'll say that foryou, but nothin' wakes you up. "

"Why, Laviny! you never woke up yourself. "

"That's right, lay it onto me. I expected you would; it's just likeyou. But why in time did you think Grace met the minister way down toPeters's grove? That's the most loony notion ever I heard, even fromyou. What made you think of it?"

"Nothin', nothin'. I guess I WAS loony, maybe. Dear! dear! dear! haveyou heard how's he's gettin' on? Is he took bad?"

"I ain't heard nothin' yet, nobody has. But see here, 'Bish Pepper, youact funny to me. I want to know more about that Peters's grove notion. WHY did you say it?"

Kyan wriggled upon the rack and dodged and squirmed for the next twentyminutes. He tried his best to keep the fateful secret, but he admittedtoo much, or not enough, and his sister kept up the cross-examination. At the end of the session she was still unsatisfied, but she was onthe scent and her brother knew it. He fled to the woodshed and therepunctuated his morning task of kindling chopping with groans and awfulforebodings. 

One of the very first to hear of the minister's illness was KeziahCoffin. Mrs. Parker told her and Keziah started for the beach before thetale of Grace's part in the night's happenings reached the village. Shedid not wait for a conveyance, hardly waited to throw a shawl over hershoulders, but began to cover the three miles on foot. She had walkednearly two thirds of the distance when Captain Zeb Mayo overtook her andgave her a seat in his chaise. 

They said little during the drive, the shock and anxiety forbiddingconversation. At the ropes was the same group, larger now, and Dr. Parker's horse was hitched to one of the posts. 

"You can't go in, Mrs. Coffin, " said Thoph Black. "The doctor give ushis orders not to let nobody get by. I guess nobody wants to, but allthe same--"

Keziah paid not the slightest attention to Mr. Black. She stoopedbeneath his arm, under the rope and was on her way to the shanty beforethey realized her intention. Captain Zeb roared a command for her toreturn, but she kept on. No one followed, not even the captain. Mrs. Mayo had strictly forbidden his passing the dead line. 

Keziah opened the door and entered the little building. The living roomwas empty, but at the sound of her step some one came from the roomadjoining. That some one was Grace. 

"Aunt Keziah!" she cried. "What did you come here for? Why did you?"

"Gracie!" exclaimed the housekeeper. "You?--YOU?"

Dr. Parker appeared, holding up a hand for silence. 

"Hush!" he cried. "He's quiet now and I think he will sleep. Don't talkhere. Go outside, if you must talk--and I suppose you must. "

Grace led the way. Fortunately, the door was on the side not visiblefrom the spot where Captain Zeb and the rest were standing. Keziah, bewildered and amazed at the girl's presence, followed dumbly. 

"Now, auntie, " whispered Grace, turning to her, "you want to know howhe is, of course. Well, I think he is better. The doctor thinks so, too. But why did you come here?"

"Why did I come? I? Why, because my place was here. I belonged here. For the love of mercy's sakes what are YOU doin' here? With HIM? And thesmallpox!"

"Hush. I can't help it. I don't care. I don't care for anything anymore. I'm glad I came. I'm glad I was the one to find him and help him. No matter what happens--to me--I'm glad. I never was so glad before. Ilove him, Aunt Keziah. I can say it to you, for you know it--you mustknow it. I LOVE him and he needed me and I came. He was calling my namewhen I found him. He might have died there, alone in the wet and cold, and I saved him. Think what that means to me. "

The girl was in a sort of frenzy of excitement and hystericalexaltation. All the night she had been calm and quiet, repressing herfeelings, and tending the man she loved. Now, with some one to whom shecould confide, she was calm no longer. Keziah answered her soothingly, questioning her from time to time, until, at last, she learned the wholestory. 

The door opened softly and Dr. Parker came out. 

"He's asleep, " he said. "And he's better, much better. And I'll tell yousomething else, if you won't make too much noise about it--he hasn't gotthe smallpox. "

The two women looked at him. 

"Fact, " he said, with an emphatic nod. "Not a symptom of it. I'd havebet my best hat that he wasn't going to have it and I won't have to gobareheaded yet awhile. He is pretty close to brain fever, though, but Iguess he'll dodge that this time, with care. On the whole, Keziah, I'mglad you came. This young lady, " with a movement of the head towardGrace, "has done her part. She really saved his life, if I'm notmistaken. Now, I think she can go away and leave him to you and me. I'llpretty nearly guarantee to have him up and out of this--this pesthole ina fortnight. "

Here was joyful tidings, the better for being so unexpected. Keziahleaned against the boards and drew a long breath. Grace said nothing, but, after a moment, she went into the house. 

"That's a good thing, too, " commented Parker, watching her as she went. "I wanted to talk with you, Keziah Coffin, and right away. Now, then, there's something up, something that I don't know about, and I ratherguess you do. Young women--even when they're her kind and that's as gooda kind as there is--don't risk smallpox for any young man they pick upcasually. They don't carry--I guess it was pretty nearly carrying--himhome and put him to bed and care for him and cry over him and call him'dear. ' And he doesn't beg them to run away and let him die rather thanto stay there and risk dying, too. No, not to any great extent. Now, Keziah, you and I are fairly good friends and we ought to know eachother by this time. I see a light--a little one. Now, then, if you turnup the lamp, so that I can see the whole blaze, maybe I can help thosetwo in yonder. "

Keziah considered. "All right, doctor, " she said, when she reached adecision, "all right; I'll tell you the whole thing, and you can see oneof the reasons why my hair is gettin' grayer. This thing has reached thepoint now where there's no keepin' it quiet. Folk'll know--I s'pose theyknow already--that she's been here with him. They'll suspect a lot moreand the truth is better than suspicion--that is, it can't be worse thanthe suspicions that come natural to a good many minds in this town. Iam glad I can tell you, for I guess the time's come to step out inbroad daylight and h'ist our colors. Now, you listen. Here 'tis, frombeginnin' to end. "

She went on to tell all she knew of her parson's love story. 

Dr. Parker listened. 

"Hum!" he said thoughtfully, "I see. What made her change her mind sosuddenly? You say, or you gather from what Mr. Ellery told you, that shehad all but agreed to marry him. She cares for him, that's sure. Then, all at once, she throws him over and accepts Nat. Of course her uncle'ssudden seizure was a shock and he wanted Nat to have her, but she isn'tthe kind of girl to be easily swayed. Why did she do it?"

"Well, doctor, that's kind of a puzzle to me. All I can think is thatshe come to realize what it might mean to him, the minister, if hemarried a Come-Outer. I think she done it for his sake, to save him, though what made her realize it all at once I don't know. There's thepart we ain't heard. "

"I guess you're right. Something happened between the time she leftEllery and when you and I reached the tavern. But never mind that, thatdoesn't count now. Let's look at things as they are this minute. She'shere and folks know it. As they do know it they'll begin to talk, andthe more they talk the farther from the truth they'll get--most of 'em. Nat, poor chap, is dead, so her promise to him is canceled. Ellery willget well if he isn't troubled, and her being with him will help morethan anything else. I can understand now why he broke down. "

"Yes, he ain't been himself since it happened. "

"Of course, and the last few weeks of worry and night work have helpedto wreck his nerves. Well, as I see it, there's only one thing to do. Ifshe leaves him he'll go to pieces again, so she mustn't leave. And shecan't stay without an explanation. I say let's give the explanation;let's come right out with the announcement that they're engaged. "

"Whew! that'll stir things up. "

"You bet! But let it stir. I like that parson of yours; he's a trump. And I always liked her, although, generally speaking, I don't loveCome-Outers. And I like her more than ever now, when she risked what shethought was smallpox to care for him. As I said, she saved his life, andshe ought to have him. She SHALL have him. "

"But she's a Come-Outer and--there's the church. "

"Well, I know it. But he never was so popular as he is now. And sheisn't by any means a steady-going Come-Outer. Why, Zeke Bassett andthe rest have been finding fault with her and calling her a backslider. That'll help. Then you trust me to whoop up her heroism and the factthat without her he would have died. We can do it, Keziah. Come on! I'vetackled a good many jobs, but matchmaking isn't one of 'em. Here goes totackle that. "

Keziah was delighted; here was work after her own heart. But she stillhesitated. 

"Doctor, " she said, "you've forgot one thing, that's Gracie herself. Would she marry him now, knowing it may mean the loss of his ministryand all, any more than she would at first? I don't believe it. "

"That's your part, Keziah. You've got to show her she MUST marry him orhe'll die; see? Call on me to back you up in any fairy yarn you spin. You prove to her it's her duty to marry him. You'll have to stay, hereand help nurse, of course, and that's easy because his disease isn'tcontagious. You convince her and I'll take care of the congregation. He'll live to be minister here for the rest of his life, if he wants to, and she'll be a minister's wife and sit in the front pew. I'll guaranteethe church if you'll guarantee the girl. Why, it's your duty! Come, now, what do you say?"

Keziah's hesitation was at an end. Her face lit up. 

"I say good!" she cried. "And I'll be thankful to you all the rest ofmy life. But for the dear mercy sakes, don't say 'duty' to me again. Oh, doctor, if you only knew what it means to me to be fightin' at last forsomethin' that ain't just duty, but what I really want! I do honestlybelieve we can win. Glory, hallelujah! And now I want to give you apiece of advice, your course for the first leg, as you might say: yousee Cap'n Zebedee Mayo. "

"Humph! Cap'n Zeb is the first man I mean to see. "

Captain Zeb listened with his mouth and eyes and ears open. Mrs. Mayowas with him when the doctor called, and she, too, listened. 

"Well!" exclaimed the captain, when the plea for support was ended. "Well, by the flukes of Jonah's whale! Talk about surprises! Old lady, what do you say?"

"I say go ahead, Zebedee. Go ahead! If Mr. Ellery wanted to marryJezebel's sister, and I knew he really wanted to, I'd--I do believe I'dhelp him get her. And Grace Van Horne is a good girl. Go ahead. "

"Of course, " put in Parker, profiting by a hint of Mrs. Coffin's, "of course Daniels will fight tooth and nail against us. He'll be fordischarging Ellery at once. And he really runs the parish committee. "

"He does, hey? Well, I cal'late he don't. Not if I'm on deck, he don't. All right, doctor, I'm with you. He, he, he!" he chuckled. "Say, doc, doyou know I sort of love a good lively row. That's been the only troublewith our society sence Mr. Ellery took command of it--there ain't beenany rows. He, he, he! Well, there'll be one now. "

There was, and it was lively enough to suit even Captain Zeb. Dr. Parker, on his calls that day, was assailed with a multitude ofquestions concerning Grace's presence at the shanty. He answered themcheerfully, dilating upon the girl's bravery, her good sense, and thefact that she had saved Mr. Ellery's life. Then he confided, as a strictsecret, the fact that the two were engaged. Before his hearers hadrecovered from the shock of this explosion, he was justifying theengagement. Why shouldn't they marry if they wanted to? It was a freecountry. The girl wasn't a Come-Outer any longer, and, besides--and thiscarried weight in a good many households--what a black eye the marriagewould be for that no-account crowd at the chapel. 

Captain Zebedee, having shipped with the insurgents, worked for themfrom sunrise to sunset and after. Zeb was something of a politician andknew whom to "get at. " He sought his fellows on the parish committee andlabored with them. Mrs. Mayo and the doctor's wife championed the causeat sewing circle. They were lively, those sewing meetings, and the furflew. Didama Rogers and Lavinia Pepper were everywhere and ready toagree with whichever side seemed likely to win. Lavinia was so deeplyinterested that she forgot to catechise Abishai further about hisuntimely reference to Peters's grove. And Kyan, puzzled but thankful, kept silence. 

It was by no means a one-sided struggle. Captain Elkanah, spurred on bythe furious Annabel, marshaled his forces and proclaimed that Ellery, having disgraced the Regular Society, should no longer occupy itspulpit. 

"If he does, " thundered Elkanah, "I shall never cross the threshold ofthat church. And I've worshiped there for fifty years. Hum--ha! I shouldlike to know whose money has gone more liberal for that meeting housethan mine! But not another cent--no, sir! not one--if that licentiousyoung scamp continues to blaspheme there. "

He hinted concerning a good-sized contribution toward a parish house, something the society needed. If Ellery was discharged, the contributionwould probably be made, not otherwise. And this was a point worthconsidering. 

Daniels also wrote to his influential friends of the National RegularSociety. But Captain Zebedee had forestalled him there and both letterswere laid on the table to await further developments. As for theCome-Outers, they were wild with rage and Grace was formally read out oftheir communion. 

"I wonder, " shrieked Ezekiel Bassett, in prayer meeting, "what thesperrit of the good and great man who used to lead us from this 'ereplatform would say if he was here now? Hey? what would he say?"

Josiah Badger upreared his lanky person. "I dreamed about Cap'nEben t'other n-nin-nun-night, " he stammered. "I see him justas--p-pup-pup-plain as you hear me n-n-now. And he says to me, he says, Josiah, ' he says, 'I-I-I-I--'"

"Ki yi!" broke in Thoph Baker, from the shadow of the rear seat. Josiahturned to berate Thoph, who, being in disgrace because of his defense ofEllery, was reckless, and the communication from the dead leader of theCome-Outers was lost in the squabble which followed. 

Meantime Keziah, installed as head nurse at the shanty, was having hertroubles. The minister was getting better, slowly but surely gettingbetter. The danger of brain fever was at an end, but he was very weakand must not be excited, so the doctor said. He knew nothing of thestruggle for and against him which was splitting Trumet in twain, andcare was taken that he should not know it. He was not allowed to talk, and, for the most part, was quite contented to be silent, watching Graceas she moved about the room. If he wondered why she was still with him, he said nothing, and the thought of what his congregation might say didnot vex him in the least. She was there, he saw her every day, that wasenough. 

He had expressed a wish to talk with his housekeeper. "I've gotsomething to tell you, Aunt Keziah, " he said weakly. "Some news for youand--and--"

"Cat's foot!" snapped Keziah briskly, "don't start in tellin' me newsnow. I've got my hands full as 'tis. News'll keep and you won't, if youtalk another minute. "

"But this is important. "

"So are you, though you may not think so. If you don't believe it askGrace. "

"Well, " the minister sighed. "Well, perhaps I won't tell it now. I'drather wait until I feel stronger. You won t care, will you? It will behard to tell and I--"

"No, no! Care? No. If it's bad news I don't want to hear it, and if it'sgood I can wait, I cal'late. You turn over and take a nap. "

She could manage him; it was with Grace that she had her struggle. Johnwas safe now; he would be himself again before very long, and the girlhad begun to think of his future and his reputation. She knew thatgossip must be busy in the village, and, much as she wished to remain byhis side, she decided that she should not do so. And then Keziah beganto fulfill her agreement with Dr. Parker. 

First, and bluntly, she told the girl that her leaving now was useless. The secret was out; it had been made public. Everyone knew she wasin love with John and he with her. Their engagement was considered anestablished certainty. Grace was greatly agitated and very indignant. 

"Who dared say so?" she demanded. "Who dared say we were engaged? It'snot true. It's a wicked lie and--Who is responsible, Aunt Keziah?"

"Well, I suppose likely I am, much as anybody, deary. "

"You? You, Aunt Keziah?"

"Yup; me. You are in love with him; at any rate, you said so. And you'rehere with him, ain't you? If you two ain't engaged you ought to be. "

"Aunt Keziah, how can you speak so? Don't you realize--"

"Look here. Don't you want to marry him?"

"WANT to? Oh, please--How can you? I--"

"S-s-sh! There! there! I am a bull-headed old thing, for sure. But I'mlike the dog that chased the rat across the shelf where they kept thebest china, my intentions are good. Don't cry, deary. Let's get to thebottom of this thing, as the man said when he tumbled into the well. When I first knew that you and John were in love with each other, I feltdreadful. I knew your uncle and I knew Trumet. If you had married then, or let people know that you thought of it, 'twould have been the end, and ruin for John and you. But things are diff'rent now, a good dealdiff'rent. John is worshiped pretty nigh, since his pluck with thatsmallpox man. He could go into church and dance a jig in the pulpit andnobody--or precious few, at least--would find fault. And you've stoodby him. If it wa'n't for you he wouldn't be here to-day, and people knowthat. Dr. Parker and Captain Zebedee and Gaius Winslow and dozens moreare fighting for him and for you. And the doctor says they are going towin. Do you want to spoil it all?"

"Aunt Keziah, that night before uncle died I was upstairs in my room andI heard uncle and Captain Elkanah Daniels talking. "

"Elkanah? Was he there at your house?"

"Yes. Somehow or other--I don't know how--he had learned about--aboutJohn and me. And he was furious. Aunt Keziah, I heard him say thatunless I broke off with John he would drive him from the ministry andfrom Trumet and disgrace him forever. He said that if I really cared forhim I would not ruin his life. That brought me to myself. I realized howwicked I had been and what I was doing. That was why I--I--"

"There! there! Tut! tut! tut! hum! Now I see. But, Gracie, you ain'tgoin' to ruin his life. No, nor Elkanah ain't goin' to do it, either. He can't, no matter how hard he tries. I've lived to see the day whenthere's a bigger man in the Reg'lar church than Elkanah Daniels, and Ithank the good Lord for it. "

"I never should have come here. I know it. But he needed me. AuntKeziah, he was sick and dying almost, and I couldn't leave him. I came, and now he will be ruined and disgraced. "

"He won't, I tell you; he won't. Listen to me. I ain't talkin' for myhealth. Listen!"

She argued and pleaded and coaxed, and, at last, when she began to thinkshe had prevailed, Grace brought forward another objection. She hadgiven her word to her uncle. How could she break that promise made to adying man? She would feel like a traitor. 

"Traitor to who?" demanded the housekeeper, losing patience. "Notto poor Nat, for he's gone. And don't you suppose that he and Ebenunderstand things better now, where they are? Do you suppose that Natwouldn't want you to be happy? I know he would, for I knew him. "

It was still unsettled when the long talk was over, but Grace agreed notto leave the minister at present. She would stay where she was until hewas himself again, at least. Keziah was satisfied with the preliminaryskirmish. She felt confident of winning the victory, and in the prospectof happiness for others, she was almost happy herself. Yet each time themail was brought to the shanty she dreaded to look at it, and the sightof a stranger made her shake with fear. Ansel Coffin had threatened tocome to Trumet. If he came, she had made up her mind what to do. 

The parish committee was to meet. Captain Elkanah had announced hisintention of moving that John Ellery be expelled from the Regularchurch. There was to be no compromise, no asking for a resignation; hemust be discharged, thrown out in disgrace. The county papers were fullof the squabble, but they merely reported the news and did not takesides. The fight was too even for that. 

Captain Zeb chuckled. "It's all right, Keziah, " he said. "We know what'swhat and who's who. The Rev. Mr. Ellery can preach here for the nexthundred year, if he lives that long and wants to, and he can marrywhoever he darn pleases, besides. Elkanah's licked and he knows it. Heain't got enough backers to man a lobster dory. Let him holler; noisedon't scare grown folks. "

One afternoon a few days before the date set for the meeting Elkanahand two or three of his henchmen were on the piazza of the Daniels home, discussing the situation. They were blue and downcast. Annabel was inthe sitting room, shedding tears of humiliation and jealous rage on thehaircloth sofa. 

"Well, " observed her father, "there's one thing we can do. If thevote in committee goes against us, I shall insist on the calling of acongregational meeting. Hum--ha! Yes, I shall insist on that. "

"Won't be no good, cap'n, " sniffed Beriah Salters dolefully. "Thebiggest part of the congregation's for Ellery, and you know it. They'reas sot on him as if he was the angel Gabriel. If you'd only told whatyou knew afore this smallpox business, we'd have been able to give himand his Come-Outer woman what b'longs to 'em. But not now. "

Captain Daniels shifted uneasily in his chair. 

"Hum--ha!" he barked, to cover confusion. "Hum--ha! It seemed to memore--er--charitable to give the misguided young man another chance, andI did it. But--What's that?"

Some one was talking excitedly on the sidewalk beyond the lilac bushesat the border of the Daniels property. Voices answered. Didama Rogersdarted out of her yard and past the house in the direction of thesounds. Salters rose and walked down to the gate. 

"Hey!" he shouted. "Halloo! Ahoy there! You, Em'lous, what is it?"

Emulous Sparrow, the fish peddler, was seated in his cart, which wassurrounded by men and women, neighbors of the Danielses. There was aperfect storm of questionings and ejaculations. Salters opened the gateand joined the group. A moment later he came running back, up the walktoward the piazza. 

"Cap'n, " he shouted. "Cap'n Elkanah, here's news! What do you think? Atelegram's just come from Nat Hammond. He's safe and sound in New York, and he'll be here day after to-morrow. "

They could not believe it and rushed out to hear more. Emulous, glowingwith importance, affirmed that it was so. He had seen the telegram atthe store. It was for Grace Van Horne and they were just going to send aboy over to the shanty with it. 

"No details nor nothin', " he declared. "Just said 'Am all right. Arrived to-day. Will be in Trumet Thursday. ' And 'twas signed 'NathanielHammond. ' There!"

"Well, by thunder!" exclaimed Salters. "If that don't beat all. Iwonder what's happened to him? Two year gone and give up for dead, andnow--What do you cal'late it means?"

Captain Elkanah seized him by the arm and led him out of the group. The old man's face was alight with savage joy and his voice shook withexultation. 

"I'll tell you one thing it means, " he whispered. "It means the end ofEllery, so far as his marrying her is concerned. She gave her word toHammond and she'll keep it. She's no liar, whatever else she is. He maybe minister of the Regular church, though I'LL never set under him, buthe'll never marry her, now. "

CHAPTER XIX

IN WHICH A RECEPTION IS CALLED OFF

Far out on the Pacific coast there are two small islands, perhapsa hundred miles distant from one another. The first of these isuninhabited. On the other is a little colony of English-speaking people, half-breed descendants of native women and the survivors of a crew froma British vessel cast away there in the latter part of the eighteenthcentury. 

On the first of these islands, the smaller one, the Sea Mist had beenwrecked. Driven out of her course by a typhoon, she staggered throughday after day and night after night of terrific wind and storm until, at last, there was promise of fair weather. Captain Nat, nearly worn outfrom anxiety, care, and the loss of sleep, had gone to his stateroomand the first mate was in charge. It was three o'clock, the wind stillblowing and the darkness pitchy, when the forward lookout shrieked awarning, "Breakers under the lee!" Almost the next instant the ship wason a coral reef, full of water, and the seas breaking over her from stemto stern. 

Morning came and showed a little patch of land, with palm trees andtropical vegetation waving in the gusts and green in the sunshine. Captain Nat ordered the boats to be lowered. Much as he hated thethought, he saw that the Sea Mist had made her last voyage and mustbe abandoned. He went to the cabin, collected papers and charts andprepared to leave. The ship's money, over ten thousand dollars in goldbelonging to the owner and to be used in trade and speculation among theEast Indies, he took with him. Then the difficult and dangerous passagethrough the opening in the reef was begun. 

Only the captain's boat reached the shore. The mate's was caught by ahuge breaker, dashed against the reef and sunk. Captain Nat, his secondmate and five of his men were all that was left of the Sea Mist'scompany. And on that island they remained for nearly two weeks. Provisions they had brought ashore with them. Water they found bydigging. Nat hid the gold at night, burying it on the beach belowhigh-water mark. 

Then, having made sure of his location by consulting the chart, hedetermined to attempt a voyage to the second island, where he knewthe English colony to be. Provisions were getting short, and to remainlonger where they were was to risk starvation and all its horrors. So, in the longboat, which was provided with a sail, they started. Chartsand papers and the gold the skipper took with them. None of the crewknew of the existence of the money; it was a secret which the captainkept to himself. 

A hundred miles they sailed in the longboat and, at last, the secondisland was sighted. They landed and found, to their consternation andsurprise, that it, too, was uninhabited. The former residents had growntired of their isolation and, a trading vessel having touched there, hadseized the opportunity to depart for Tahiti. Their houses were empty, their cattle, sheep, goats, and fowl roamed wild in the woods, and thefruit was rotting on the trees. In its way the little island wasan Eyeless Eden, flowing with milk and honey; but to Captain Nat, aconscientious skipper with responsibilities to his owners, it was aprison from which he determined to escape. Then, as if to make escapeimpossible, a sudden gale came up and the longboat was smashed by thesurf. 

"I guess that settles it, " ruefully observed the second mate, "anotherCape Codder, from Hyannis. Cal'late we'll stay here for a spell now, hey, Cap'n. "

"For a spell, yes, " replied Nat. "We'll stay here until we get anothercraft to set sail in, and no longer. "

"Another craft? ANOTHER one? Where in time you goin' to get her?"

"Build her, " said Captain Nat cheerfully. Then, pointing to the row ofempty houses and the little deserted church, he added, "There's timberand nails--yes, and cloth, such as 'tis. If I can't build a boat out ofthem I'll agree to eat the whole settlement. "

He did not have to eat it, for the boat was built. It took them sixmonths to build her, and she was a curious-looking vessel when done, but, as the skipper said, "She may not be a clipper, but she'll sailanywhere, if you give her time enough. " He had been the guidingspirit of the whole enterprise, planning it, laying the keel, burningbuildings, to obtain nails and iron, hewing trees for the largest beams, showing them how to spin ropes from cocoa-nut fiber, improvising sailsfrom the longboat's canvas pieced out with blankets and odd bits ofcloth from the abandoned houses. Even a strip of carpet from the churchfloor went into the making of those sails. 

At last she was done, but Nat was not satisfied. 

"I never commanded a ship where I couldn't h'ist Yankee colors, " hesaid, "and, by the everlastin'! I won't now. We've got to have a flag. "

So, from an old pair of blue overalls, a white cotton shirt, and thered hangings of the church pulpit, he made a flag and hoisted it to thetruck of his queer command. They provisioned her, gave her a liberalsupply of fresh water, and, one morning, she passed through the openingof the lagoon out to the deep blue of the Pacific. And, hidden in hercaptain's stateroom under the head of his bunk, was the ten thousanddollars in gold. For Nat had sworn to himself, by "the everlasting"and other oaths, to deliver that money to his New York owners safe and, necessary expenses deducted of course, untouched. 

For seven weeks the crazy nondescript slopped across the ocean. Fairwinds helped her and, at last, she entered the harbor of Nukahiva, overtwelve hundred miles away. And there--"Hammond's luck, " the sailorscalled it--was a United States man-of-war lying at anchor, the firstAmerican vessel to touch at that little French settlement for fiveyears. The boat they built was abandoned and the survivors of the SeaMist were taken on board the man-of-war and carried to Tahiti. 

From Tahiti Captain Nat took passage on a French bark for Honolulu. Here, after a month's wait, he found opportunity to leave for New Yorkon an American ship, the Stars and Stripes. And finally, after beingaway from home for two years, he walked into the office of his New Yorkowners, deposited their gold on a table, and cheerfully observed, "Well, here I am. "

That was the yarn which Trumet was to hear later on. It filled columnsof the city papers at the time, and those interested may read it, in allits details, in a book written by an eminent author. The tale of a CapeCod sea captain, plucky and resourceful and adequate, as Yankee seacaptains were expected to be, and were, in those days. 

But Trumet did not hear the yarn immediately. All that it heard and allthat it knew was contained in Captain Nat's brief telegram. "Arrivedto-day. Will be home Thursday. " That was all, but it was enough, forin that dispatch was explosive sufficient to blow to atoms the doctor'splans and Keziah's, the great scheme which was to bring happiness toJohn Ellery and Grace Van Horne. 

Dr. Parker heard it, while on his way to Mrs. Prince's, and, neglectingthat old lady for the once, he turned his horse and drove as fast aspossible to the shanty on the beach. Fast as he drove, Captain ZebedeeMayo got there ahead of him. Captain Zeb was hitching his white andancient steed to the post as the doctor hove in sight. 

"By mighty!" the captain exclaimed, with a sigh of relief, "I'm gladenough you've come, doctor. I hated to go in there alone. You've heard, of course. "

"Yes, I've heard. "

"Say, ain't it wonderful! I'm tickled all up one side and sorry all downt'other. Nat's a true-blue feller, and I'm glad enough that he ain'tshark bait; but what about the minister and her? She's promised to Nat, you know, and--"

"I know. Don't I know! I've been going over the affair and trying to seea way out ever since I heard of the telegram. Tut! tut! I'm like you, mighty glad Hammond is safe, but it would have spared complications ifhe had stayed wherever he's been for a few months longer. We would havemarried those two in there by that time. "

"Sartin we would. But he didn't stay. Are you goin' to tell Mr. Ellery?"

"Certainly not. And I hope he hasn't been told. He's getting well fastnow, but he mustn't be worried, or back he'll go again. We must see Mrs. Coffin. Keziah is our main hold. That woman has got more sense than allthe rest of us put together. "

But it was Grace, not Keziah, who opened the shanty door in answer totheir knock. She was pale and greeted them calmly, but it was evidentthat her calmness was the result of sheer will power. 

"Won't you come in, doctor?" she asked. "Good afternoon, Captain Mayo. "

Dr. Parker entered the building, but Captain Zeb remained outside, stammering that he cal'lated he'd better stay where he could keep an eyeon his horse. This was such a transparent excuse that it would have beenfunny at any other time. No one smiled now, however. 

"Is--is Mrs. Coffin--er--Keziah aboard?" the captain asked. 

"No, she isn't. She went to the parsonage a few hours ago. Mr. Ellisbrought the mail and there was a letter in it for her. She said it wasimportant and that she must go home to see about some things. She'll beback pretty soon, I suppose. "

The doctor whispered her name then and she went inside, closing the doorafter her. Captain Zebedee sat down on the step to ponder over the newand apparently insurmountable difficulty which had arisen. As he saidafterwards, "The more I tried to get an observation, the thicker it got. Blamed if I could see anything but fog, but I could hear--I could hearElkanah and his gang gigglin', ahead, astern and off both bows. "

Parker found his patient sleeping soundly and had not disturbed him. Returning to the living room he spoke to Grace. 

"Humph!" he grunted, watching her from under his brows, "everythingseems to be all right in there. He hasn't been excited or anything likethat?"

"No. "

"That's good. He mustn't be. You understand that? He mustn't be toldanything that will upset him. He's getting well fast and I want it tocontinue. "

"Yes, I understand. "

"Hum! Er--have you heard--Has anyone been here?"

"Yes. I have heard. The telegram came and I answered it. "

"You did? Well, it's a miracle and we're all thankful, of course. Didyou--er--er--"

"Doctor, I must go home. I mustn't stay here any longer. "

"Why not?"

"You know why not. I must be at home when he comes. You must get someone to take my place. Aunt Keziah will stay, of course, and perhaps Mrs. Higgins would come, or Hannah Poundberry. She--"

"Not if I know it. I'd as soon have a hay-cutter running in here asHannah's tongue. I could stop a hay-cutter when it got too noisy. Well, if you must go, you must, I suppose. But stay through tomorrow, atany rate. Nat won't get here until Thursday, and I may be able to findanother nurse by that time. And what I shall say to him, " motioningtoward the other room, "I don't know. "

"Must you say anything? Just say that I have been called away for a fewdays on--on some business. Don't tell him. Don't tell him the truth, doctor, now. He is too weak and I am afraid--"

She stopped and turned away. The doctor watched her pityingly. 

"Cheer up, " he said. "At any rate, this is only for a little while. Whenthe captain knows, if he's the man I take him for, he'll--"

She whirled like a flash. "You're not going to tell him?" she cried. "No, no! You mustn't. You must promise me you won't. Promise. "

"Somebody'll tell him. Telling things is Trumet's specialty. "

"Then you must stop it. No one must tell him--no one except me. I shalltell him, of course. He must hear it from me and not from anyone else. He would think I was disloyal and ungrateful--and I am! I have been! ButI was--I COULDN'T help it. You know, doctor, you know--"

"Yes, yes, I know. Well, I'll promise, but it will all come out right, you see. You mustn't think I--we--have been interfering in your affairs, Grace. But we've all come to think a whole lot of that parson of oursand what he wanted we wanted him to have, that's all. "

"I know. Thank you very much for all your kindness, and for yourpromise. "

He would have liked to say much more, but he could not, under thecircumstances. He stammered a good-by and, with a question concerningMrs. Coffin's whereabouts, went out to join Captain Zeb. 

"Well?" queried the latter anxiously. "How is it? What's up? What's thenext tack?"

"We'll go to the parsonage, " was the gloomy answer. "If anybody can seea glimmer in this cussed muddle Keziah Coffin can. "

Keziah was on her knees in her room, beside a trunk, the same trunk shehad been packing the day of the minister's arrival in Trumet. She wasworking frantically, sorting garments from a pile, rejecting some andkeeping others. She heard voices on the walk below and went down toadmit the callers. 

"What's the matter, Keziah?" asked Dr. Parker sharply, after a look ather face. "You look as if you'd been through the war. Humph! I supposeyou've heard the news?"

Keziah brushed back the hair from her forehead. "Yes, " she answeredslowly. "I've heard it. "

"Well, it's great news, and if it wasn't for--if things weren't as theyare, I'd be crowing hallelujahs this minute. Trumet has got a good mansafe and sound again, and the Lord knows it needs all of that kind itcan get. "

"Yes. "

"Yes. But there's the other matter. I've been to see Grace. She didn'tsay so, but it was easy enough to see; the man she promised to marry andthought was dead, is alive. She's a girl of her word--she promised himand she promised her dying uncle--and she'll marry him. And then whatwill become of John Ellery? He'll go downhill so fast that a ship'sanchor wouldn't hold him. If he doesn't die I'll have to send him awaysomewhere, and the Regular church will lose the minister we've fought sohard for. "

"Yes, " concurred Zebedee, "and them blasted Danielses'll run the shebangand the rest of us'll have to sing small, I tell you. "

"So we've come to you, Keziah, " went on the doctor. "Do you see anysalvation?"

"Yes, I do. "

"You do? Where?"

"In Nat Hammond. If he knows Grace doesn't want to marry him, do yousuppose he'll hold her to her promise?"

"I don't know. I'm not so sure. Men don't give up girls like that soeasy. I wouldn't--by George, I wouldn't! And she won't tell him thewhole truth, I'm afraid. She'll pretend to be glad--hang it! she ISglad--to have him home again and--"

"Of course she's glad. Ain't we all glad and happy and thankful? Weought to be. But"--she hesitated--"doctor, you leave this to me. Sofar as John and Grace are concerned you needn't worry. I'll take it onmyself to see that they have each other, as the Almighty meant 'em to. Leave it to me. Just leave it to me. I KNOW I can do it. "

She would not say more, nor tell on what grounds she based her optimism. She would go back to the shanty that evening, she said, and stay untilthe following afternoon. Grace would undoubtedly go to the old tavern toprepare for the homecoming. Let Mrs. Higgins take her place as nurse. 

"I shall have to leave, myself, " she added, "for a little while; soperhaps you'd better try to get somebody else to help the Higgins woman. Don't ask me any questions, please don't, and be sure not to say a wordto anybody--most of all to Grace. Just do as I tell you and leave it tome. And don't come and see me again until after--after he comes home. Good-by, doctor. Good-by, Cap'n Zeb. "

She shook hands with each of them, a rather unusual proceeding as theythought of it afterwards. Then they went away and left her. 

"Humph!" mused Parker, as they came out at the gate. "Humph! She seemssure, doesn't she. And yet she doesn't act like herself. Did you noticethat?"

"Yup. I noticed it. But I expect Nat's droppin' out of the clouds shookher up, same as it done the rest of us. Well, never mind. She's a bullygood, capable woman and what she says she'll do she gen'rally does. I'mbettin' on her. By time! I feel better. "

Captain Elkanah Daniels and his friends were feeling better also, andthey were busy. Trumet had a new hero now. On Wednesday the Bostonpapers printed excerpts from Captain Hammond's story, and these briefpreliminary accounts aroused the admiration of every citizen. It wasproposed to give him a reception. Elkanah was the moving spirit in thepreparations. Captain Nat, so they learned by telegraphing, would arriveon the noon train Thursday. His was not to be a prosaic progress bystage all the way from Sandwich. A special carriage, drawn by theDaniels span and escorted by other vehicles, was to meet the coach atBayport and bring him to Trumet in triumphant procession. All this wasto be a surprise, of course. 

Wednesday afternoon the Daniels following was cheered by the tidingsthat Grace Van Horne had left the beach and was at her old home, theHammond tavern. And Mrs. Poundberry reported her busy as a bee "gettin'things ready. " This was encouraging and indicated that the ministerhad been thrown over, as he deserved to be, and that Nat would find hisfiancee waiting and ready to fulfill her contract. "Reg'lar whirligig, that girl, " sniffed Didama Rogers. "If she can't have one man she'lltake the next, and then switch back soon's the wind changes. However, most likely she never was engaged to Mr. Ellery, anyhow. He's been outof his head and might have said some fool things that let Dr. Parker andthe rest b'lieve he was in love with her. As for pickin' of him up andtotin' him back to the shanty that night, that wa'n't nothin' but commonhumanity. She couldn't let him die in the middle of the lighthouse lane, could she?"

Thursday was a perfect day, and the reception committee was on hand andwaiting in front of the Bayport post office. The special carriage, thespan brushed and curried until their coats glistened in the sunshine, was drawn up beside the platform. The horses had little flags fastenedto their bridles, and there were other and larger flags on each sideof the dashboard. Captain Daniels, imposing in his Sunday raiment, high-collared coat, stock, silk hat and gold-headed cane, sat stifflyerect on the seat in the rear. The other carriages were alongside, amongthem Captain Zebedee Mayo's ancient chaise, the white horse sound asleepbetween the shafts. Captain Zeb had not been invited to join the escort, but had joined it without an invitation. 

"I guess likely I'd better be on hand, " the captain confided to Dr. Parker. "Maybe I can stop Elkanah from talkin' too much about--well, about what we don't want him to talk about, and besides, I'm just asanxious to give Nat a welcome home as the next feller. He's a brick andwe're all proud of him. By mighty! I'd like to have seen that craft hebuilt out of cocoanuts and churches--I would so. "

Kyan Pepper was there also, not yet fully recovered from the surprisewhich Lavinia's gracious permission had given him. Abishai had beenleaning disconsolately over his front gate early that morning when NoahEllis, the lightkeeper, jogged down the lane. 

"'Mornin', 'Bish, " hailed Noah, pulling up his horse. "What's thematter? You look bluer'n a spiled mack'rel. What's the row? Breakfastdisagree with you?"

"Naw, " replied Kyan shortly. "Where you bound, all rigged up in yourshore duds?"

"Bound to Bayport, to see Nat Hammond land, " was the cheerful answer. "I ain't had a day off I don't know when, and I thought I'd take one. Begreat doin's over there, they tell me. Elkanah's goin' to make a speechand there's eighteen teams of folks goin'. "

"I know it. I wisht I was goin', too, but I never have no fun. Haveto stay to home and work and slave over them consarned tax papers. Sometimes I wish there wa'n't no taxes. "

"Humph! I've wished that, myself, more'n once. Why don't you go, if youwant to? Climb right aboard here with me. Plenty of room. "

"Hey? You mean that? By godfreys mighty! I'd like to. "

"Sartin, I mean it. Come ahead. "

Mr. Pepper sadly shook his head. "I guess likely I'd better not, " hesighed. "Laviny might not like to have me leave her. "

"Oh, fiddlesticks! she won't mind. I'll take care of you. It's perfectlysafe. There ain't goin' to be no women around. Haw! haw! haw!"

He was still laughing at his own joke when through the slats of theclosed blinds shading the Pepper house parlor a shrill voice was heardspeaking. 

"Go ahead, 'Bishy dear, " called Lavinia. "Go ahead and go. A change ofair'll do you good. "

Kyan whirled and clutched at the gate. 

"HEY?" he shouted in amazement. 

"Are you deef? Or is Mr. Ellis laughin' so hard that you can't hear?What is it that's so funny, Mr. Ellis?"

The light-keeper shut off his laughter by a sudden and rather frightenedgulp. 

"Oh, nothin', nothin', Miss Pepper. Nice day, ain't it?"

"I guess so. I ain't had time to look at it yet. I have to work. I can'tlet my wife do it for me, like some folks, and take 'days off. ' What wasit you was laughin' at, Mr. Ellis?"

"Nothin', nothin' at all. "

"Hum! They used to tell me there was only one kind of person who laughedat nothin'. Well, 'Bish Pepper, what are you standin' there for? Ifyou're goin', come right into the house and change your clothes thisminute. "

Kyan obeyed. Shortly he reappeared, clothed like a lily of the field, one that had long since gone to seed. He clambered up beside Noah andthey drove off. 

"Jerushy!" exclaimed the lightkeeper. "This is kind of unexpected, ain'tit? What's got into her to make her so accommodatin'?"

"Godfreys mighty!" was the dazed reply, "I don't know. This as fast asyou can drive? Hurry up, afore she changes her mind. "

So it happened that Mr. Pepper was in Bayport with the rest, awaitingthe stage which was bringing Trumet's latest celebrity from Sandwich. 

"Here she comes!" shouted Ezra Simmons, the postmaster. "Right on time, too. "

Sure enough! A cloud of dust in the distance, rising on the springwind, and the rattle of rapidly turning wheels. The reception committeeprepared for action. Captain Elkanah descended from the carriage andmoved in stately dignity to the front of the post-office platform. 

"Hum--ha!" he barked, turning to his followers. "Be ready now. Give hima good cheer, when I say the word. Let it be hearty--hearty, yes. "

The stage, its four horses at a trot, swung up to the platform. 

"Whoa!" roared the driver. 

"Now!" ordered Elkanah. "One--two--Hurrah!"

"Hurrah!" shouted the committee, its uninvited guests and theaccompanying crowd of Bayport men and boys which had gathered to assistin the welcome. "Hurrah!"

"Hooray!" yelled Kyan, a little behind, as usual. 

A passenger or two peered from the coach window. The stage driverironically touched his cap. 

"Thank ye, " he said. "Thank ye very much. I've been hopin' for thisfor a long time, though I'd about given up expectin' it. I'm very muchobliged. Won't somebody please ask me to make a speech?"

Captain Elkanah frowned his disapproval. 

"We are cheering Cap'n Nathaniel Hammond of Trumet, " he explainedhaughtily. "We are here to meet him and escort him home. "

The driver sighed. "You don't say, " he said. "And I thought my meritshad been recognized at last. And 'twas all for Cap'n Hammond? Dear!dear!"

He winked at Simmons, who wanted to laugh, but did not dare. 

"Come! come!" said Captain Elkanah. "Where is he? Where's Cap'nHammond?"

"Well, now, I'll tell ye; I don't know where he is. "

"You DON'T? Isn't he with you?"

"No, he ain't. And he didn't come on the train, nuther. He WAS on it. The conductor told me he see him and set along with him between stationsas fur as Cohasset Narrows. But after that he never see hide nor hair ofhim. Oh, that's so! Here's the mail bag, Ezry. "

Captain Elkanah looked at the reception committee and it looked at him. Here was a most disconcerting setback for all the plans. The committee, after asking more, and fruitless questions, went into executive session. 

Captain Zeb stepped beside the stage and put one foot on the wheel. 

"Say, Thad, " he whispered, "is that all you know? Where did he go to?"

"Can't tell you, cap'n. The conductor says he see him afore they got toCohasset Narrows and not after. Naturally, we s'pose he got off there. Pretty good joke on old Daniels, I call it. Serve him right, figgerin'to take a passenger away from me. He, he!"

"But you do know more, now don't you? Tell a feller--come! I don't likeElkanah any better'n you do. "

"Well, " the driver's voice dropped still lower. "Well, " he whispered, "I did hear this much, though don't you tell none of them: A chap I knowwas on the train and he said he see Cap'n Nat get off the cars at theCohasset Narrows depot and there was a woman with him. "

"A woman? A WOMAN? What woman?"

"Blessed if I know! And he didn't nuther. So long! Git dap!"

The reception committee and its escort drove slowly back to Trumet. TheDaniels following was disgusted and disappointed. Captain Elkanah hadfigured upon keeping Hammond under his own wing until he was safelydeposited at the old tavern. Grace was there and Elkanah meant thatthese two should meet before any inkling of Ellery's story reached Nat'sears. Incidentally, he could drop a few damaging hints concerning theminister's character. To hurt Ellery all he could and prejudice Hammondagainst him--that was the plan, and now it was frustrated. The captainhad not put in an appearance and no one knew where he was or when hewould come home. Obviously, there was nothing to do except give up thereception and await further news from the missing man. 

Some of those present wished to remain in Bayport until night. Anothertrain was due in Sandwich and, possibly, Nat might come on that. Theycould telegraph and find out whether or not he did come, and if he did, could send a carriage for him. But this suggestion was overruled. Thereception was off. 

The homeward journey had some unpleasant incidents. Several Come-Outershad driven over. Nat belonged to them, so they felt--he was the son oftheir dead founder and leader--and they determined the Regulars shouldnot have him all to themselves. They had come to bid him welcome onbehalf of the worshipers at the chapel. Now they took advantage of thegeneral disappointment to make sarcastic and would-be-humorous remarksloud enough for the majestic occupant of the decorated carriage to hear. 

"Seems to me, " said Thoph Black, "that them flags ought to be ha'f mast. That craft's in distress. "

"S-sh-h!" counciled his companion, another Come-Outer. "Don't beirreverent. Look who's cruisin' under 'em. That's the King of Trumet. Let's you and me go ahead and fire salutes, Thoph. "

Captain Elkanah wrathfully ordered the flags to be removed from thehorses' heads and from the dashboard. 

As Noah Ellis and his passenger turned into the lighthouse lane anothervehicle turned out of it. 

"Who was that?" queried Kyan. "Looked like one of the livery stablehorses to me. "

"'Twa'n't. 'Twas Thankful Payne's and that was her carriage, too. It'sgettin' so dark I couldn't see who was drivin' it, but 'twas a man, anyhow. "

Kyan seemed to be pondering. "I wonder, " he said slowly, "I wonder ifthat cousin of hers from Sandwich is here visitin'. That Caleb Pratt, seems to me his name is. "

"Don't know. Why?"

"Nothin', nothin'. I just wondered, that was all. That might explain whyshe let me--"

"Hey?"

"Nothin'. Good night, Noah. I'm much obliged to you for takin' me over, even if there wa'n't no reception. "

Trumet spent that evening wondering what had become of Nat Hammond. Captain Zeb Mayo wondered most of all. Yet his wonderment wasaccompanied by vague suspicions of the truth. And, at eleven o'clock, when the village was in bed, a horse and buggy moved down the Turn-offand stopped before the Hammond gate. A man alighted from the buggy andwalked briskly up to the side door. There he knocked and then whistledshrilly. 

A window overhead was opened. 

"Who is it?" asked a feminine voice. 

"Don't be frightened, Gracie, " replied the man at the door. "It'sme--Nat. I've come home again. "

CHAPTER XX

IN WHICH THE MINISTER RECEIVES A LETTER

John Ellery was uneasy. Physically he was very much better, so muchbetter that he was permitted to sit up a while each day. But mentally hewas disturbed and excited, exactly the condition which the doctor saidhe must not be in. Keziah and Grace had gone away and left him, and hecould not understand why. 

Mrs. Higgins, Ike's mother, was at the shanty and she did her best tosoothe and quiet him. She was a kind soul and capable, in her way, butshe could not answer his questions satisfactorily. 

"Where are they?" he demanded. "Why did they go? Has anything happened?When are they coming back?"

"I can't tell you just when, Mr. Ellery, " replied Mrs. Higgins. "Gracehad to go home for a--a day or so and Keziah had things to attend to atthe parsonage. Don't you fret yourself about them. "

"I'm not fretting, but it does seem strange. I could understand why oneshould go, perhaps, but not both. Didn't Gra--Miss Van Horne tell youwhy she went?"

"Well, now, Mr. Ellery, don't let's worry about Gracie. She's a goodgirl with lots of common sense and--"

"I know that. But that doesn't answer me. Why did she go?"

"Keziah hadn't been to the parsonage sence that day when you was fusttook sick, and I expect likely she felt that she'd ought to--"

"Please, Mrs. Higgins, tell me the truth. I'm not asking about Mrs. Coffin. Didn't Miss Van Horne tell you her reason for leaving?"

"No, she didn't. "

"But you know the reason? You're keeping something from me. Did she saywhen she would come back?"

"No, not exactly, but, of course--"

"I know you're keeping something from me. What has happened?"

"Happened? Land sakes! does anything ever happen in Trumet?"

"I think a good many things have happened lately. And the longer youkeep the truth from me the more I shall suspect. "

"Mr. Ellery, you set still in that chair, or, when the doctor comes, he'll put you to bed. I've got some cookin' to do and I can't set heregossipin' no longer. You behave yourself and stop frettin'. I'm skipperhere now--er--for a while, anyhow--and you've got to take orders fromme. There! now I cal'late you're scared, ain't you?"

He did not seem greatly frightened, nor in awe of his new skipper. Instead, he was evidently preparing to ask more questions. Mrs. Higginshurriedly fled to the living room and closed the door behind her. 

The minister heard her rattling pans and dishes at a great rate. Thenoise made him nervous and he wished she might be more quiet. He movedto the chair nearest the window and looked out over the dunes and thewide stretch of tumbling blue sea. The surf was rolling up the shore, the mackerel gulls were swooping and dipping along the strand, the beachgrass was waving in the wind. A solitary fish boat was beating out pastthe spar buoy. She was almost over the spot when the San Jose had firstanchored. 

The view was a familiar one. He had seen it in all weathers, during astorm, at morning when the sun was rising, at evening when the mooncame up to tip the watery ridges with frosted silver. He had likedit, tolerated it, hated it, and then, after she came, loved it. He hadthought it the most beautiful scene in all the world and one never to beforgotten. The dingy old building, with its bare wooden walls, had beenfirst a horror, then a prison, and at last a palace of contentment. Withthe two women, one a second mother to him, and the other dearest ofall on earth, he could have lived there forever. But now the old prisonfeeling was coming back. He was tired of the view and of the mean littleroom. He felt lonely and deserted and despairing. 

His nerves were still weak and it was easy, in his childish condition, to become despondent. He went over the whole situation and felt more andmore sure that his hopes had been false ones and that he had builded afool's paradise. After all, he remembered, she had given him no promise;she had found him ill and delirious and had brought him there. She hadbeen kind and thoughtful and gracious, but that she would be to anyone, it was her nature. And he had been content, weak as he was, to have hernear him, where he would see her and hear her speak. Her mere presencewas so wonderful that he had been satisfied with that and had not askedfor more. And now she had gone. Mrs. Higgins had said "for a day ortwo, " but that was indefinite, and she had not said she would returnwhen those two days had passed. He was better now, almost well. Wouldshe come back to him? After all, conditions in the village had notchanged. He was still pastor of the Regular church and she was aCome-Outer. The man she had promised to marry was dead--yes. But theother conditions were the same. And Mrs. Higgins had refused to tellhim the whole truth; he was certain of that. She had run away when hequestioned her. 

He rose from the chair and started toward the living room. He would notbe put off again. He would be answered. His hand was on the latch of thedoor when that door was opened. Dr. Parker came in. 

The doctor was smiling broadly. His ruddy face was actually beaming. Heheld out his hand, seized the minister's, and shook it. 

"Good morning, Mr. Ellery, " he said. "It's a glorious day. Yes, sir, abully day. Hey? isn't it?"

Ellery's answer was a question. 

"Doctor, " he said, "why have Mrs. Coffin and--and Miss Van Horne gone?Has anything happened? I know something has, and you must tell me what. Don't try to put me off or give me evasive answers. I want to know whythey have gone. "

Parker looked at him keenly. "Humph!" he grunted. "I'll have to getinto Mrs. Higgins's wig. I told her not to let you worry, and you haveworried. You're all of a shake. "

"Never mind that. I asked you a question. "

"I know you did. Now, Mr. Ellery, I'm disappointed in you. I thought youwere a sensible man who would take care of his health, now that he'd gotthe most of it back again. I've got news for you--good news--but I'm notsure that I shall tell it to you. "

"Good news! Dr. Parker, if you've got news for me that is good, forHeaven's sake tell it. I've been imagining everything bad that couldpossibly happen. Tell me, quick. My health can stand that. "

"Ye-es, yes, I guess it can. They say joy doesn't kill, and that's oneof the few medical proverbs made by unmedical men that are true. Youcome with me and sit down in that chair. Yes, you will. Sit down. "

He led his patient back to the chair by the window and forced him intoit. 

"There!" he said. "Now, Mr. Ellery, if you think you are a man, asensible man, who won't go to pieces like a ten-year-old youngster, I'll--I'll let you sit here for a while. "

"Doctor?"

"You sit still. No, I'm not going to tell you anything. You sit whereyou are and maybe the news'll come to you. If you move it won't. Goingto obey orders? Good! I'll see you by and by, Mr. Ellery. "

He walked out of the room. It seemed to Ellery that he sat in that chairfor ten thousand years before the door again opened. And then--

--"Grace!" he cried. "O Grace! you--you've come back. "

She was blushing red, her face was radiant with quiet happiness, but hereyes were moist. She crossed the room, bent over and kissed him on theforehead. 

"Yes, John, " she said; "I've come back. Yes, dear, I've come back to--toyou. "

Outside the shanty, on the side farthest from the light and its groupof buildings, the doctor and Captain Nat Hammond were talking with Mrs. Higgins. The latter was wildly excited and bubbling with joy. 

"It's splendid!" she exclaimed. "It's almost too fine to believe. Nowwe'll keep our minister, won't we?"

"I don't see why not, " observed the doctor, with quiet satisfaction. "Zeb and I had the Daniels crowd licked to a shoestring and now they'llstay licked. The parish committee is three to one for Mr. Ellery and thecongregation more than that. Keep him? You bet we'll keep him! AndI'll dance at his wedding--that is, unless he's got religious scruplesagainst it. "

Mrs. Higgins turned to Captain Nat. 

"It's kind of hard for you, Nat, " she said. "But it's awful noble andself-sacrificin' and everybody'll say so. Of course there wouldn't bemuch satisfaction in havin' a wife you knew cared more for another man. But still it's awful noble of you to give her up. "

The captain looked at the doctor and laughed quietly. 

"Don't let my nobility weigh on your mind, Mrs. Higgins, " he said. "I'dmade up my mind to do this very thing afore ever I got back to Trumet. That is, if Gracie was willin'. And when I found she was not onlywillin' but joyful, I--well, I decided to offer up the sacrifice rightoff. "

"You did? You DID? Why, how you talk! I never heard of such a thing inmy born days. "

"Nor I neither, not exactly. But there!" with a wink at Parker, "you seeI've been off amongst all them Kanaka women and how do you know but I'vefell in love?"

"Nat HAMMOND!"

"Oh, well, I--What is it, Grace?"

She was standing in the doorway and beckoning to him. Her cheeks werecrimson, the breeze was tossing her hair about her forehead, and shemade a picture that even the practical, unromantic doctor appreciated. 

"By George, Nat!" he muttered, "you've got more courage than I have. If'twas my job to give her up to somebody else I'd think twice, I'll bet. "

The captain went to meet her. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

"Nat, " she whispered, "will you come in? He wants to see you. "

John Ellery was still seated in the chair by the window, but he nolonger looked like an invalid. There was no worry or care in hiscountenance now, merely a wondrous joy and serene happiness. 

He held out his hands and the captain shook them heartily. 

"Mr. Ellery, " he said, "as they used to say at the circus, 'Here we areagain. ' And you and I have been doing all kinds of circus acrobaticssince we shook last, hey? I'm glad you're pretty nigh out of the sickbay--and the doctor says you are. "

"Captain, " began Ellery. Hammond interrupted him. 

"Hold on!" he said. "Belay right there. If you and I are to cruise inthe same family--and that's what I hear is likely to happen--Ical'late we'll heave overboard the cap'ns and Misters. My name's'Nathaniel'--'Nat' for short. "

"All right. And mine is 'John. ' Captain--Nat, I mean--how can I everthank you?"

"Thank me? What do you want to thank me for? I only handed oversomethin' that wasn't mine in the first place and belonged to you allalong. I didn't know it, that was the only trouble. "

"But your promise to your father. I feel--"

"You needn't. I told dad that it was just as Grace said. She says she'sgot a better man, or words to that effect. And--I don't know how youfeel about such things, John--but I b'lieve there's a broader outlook upaloft than there is down here and that dad would want me to do just whatI have done. Don't worry about me. I'm doin' the right thing and Iknow it. And don't pity me, neither. I made up my mind not to marryGrace--unless, of course, she was set on it--months ago. I'm tickled todeath to know she's goin' to have as good a man as you are. She'll tellyou so. Grace! Hello! she's gone. "

"Yes. I told her I wanted to talk with you alone, for a few minutes. Nat, Grace tells me that Aunt Keziah was the one who--"

"She was. She met me at the Cohasset Narrows depot. I was settin' in thecar, lookin' out of the window at the sand and sniffin' the Cape air. Bythe everlastin'! there ain't any air or sand like 'em anywheres else. I feel as if I never wanted to see a palm tree again as long as I live. I'd swap the whole of the South Pacific for one Trumet sandhill with ahuckleberry bush on it. Well, as I started to say, I was settin' therelookin' out of the window when somebody tapped me on the shoulder. Ilooked up and 'twas her. 

"You could have blown me over with a fan. By the jumpin' Moses, youcould! You see, I'd been thinkin' about her--that is, I was--"

He hesitated, turned red, coughed, and went on. 

"I was surprised enough to see her, I tell you. Way up there at theNarrows! I couldn't have said a word, anyway, and she never gave me achance. 'Nat, ' she says, 'don't talk now. Come with me, quick, afore thetrain starts. '

"Still I didn't say anything, nothin' sane anyhow. 'Keziah!' I managedto stutter. 'KEZIAH!'

"'Come!' says she. 'Hurry! I want you to get off here. I've come here onpurpose to meet you. I must talk with you; it's important. You can goto Trumet on the next train, to-night. But now I must talk with you. IMUST. Won't you please come, Nat?'

"Well, I went. The engine bell was beginnin' to ring and we had to movelively, I tell you. I swung her off the step just as the car begun tomove. After the smoke had faded away around the next bend I realizedthat my hat had faded away along with it. Yes, sir! I'd left it on theseat. Ha! ha! ha!"

He laughed uproariously. Ellery laughed in sympathy. 

"However, I wa'n't worryin' about hats, just then. All I wanted to dowas stand still, like a frozen image, and stare at her. You see, John, I hadn't laid eyes on a friend, one of the real homemade kind, for moredays than I wanted to count; and here was one of 'em, one of the best, passed out to me unexpected and ahead of time, like a surprise partypresent. So I just pumped her hand up and down and stared. I didn't haveany exclusive mortgage on the starin' by no means, for the depot masterand a dozen or so loafers was lookin' at us with their mouths wide open. 

"I guess she noticed it, for she says, 'Don't stay here, Nat. Come inthe waitin' room or somewheres where we can talk. '

"So into the waitin' room we went and come to anchor on the settee. Sixor eight of the loafers settled themselves handy to the door, so's theycould peek in occasionally. I remember I told one of them not to stretchhis neck that way 'cause he might never get it back into shape again andin the gunnin' season that would be dangerous. 'Some nearsighted fellermight take you for a goose, ' I says. Ho! ho!

"And then, John, we had our talk. Seems she left Trumet Wednesdayafternoon. Got the livery stable man to drive her as fur as Bayport, hired another team there and come on to Sandwich. Stayed overnight thereand took the mornin' train which got to Cohasset Narrows just ahead ofthe one I was comin' on. She'd been so afraid of bein' late, she said. She must see me afore I got to Trumet. 

"Well, she saw me and told me the whole yarn about you and Grace. Shetried to break it to me gently, so I wouldn't feel too bad. She knew itwould be a shock to me, she said. It was a shock, in a way, but as forfeelin' bad, I didn't. I think the world of Grace. I'd do anything shewanted me to do; but most the way down on the train--yes, and long aforethat--I'd been dreadin' my comin' home on one account. I dreaded tellin'her that, unless she was real set on it, she'd better not marry me. 

"You see, John, I've thought a lot sence I've been away. Hadconsider'ble time to do it in. And the more I thought the less thatpromise to dad seemed right. I'd have bet my sou-wester Gracie nevercared for me in the way a girl ought to care for a chap she's goin' toship as pilot for the rest of her days. And, as for me--well, I--I hadmy reasons for not wantin' to marry her. "

He paused again, sighed, started to speak, and then sat silent, lookingout of the window. Ellery laid a hand on his knee. 

"Nat, " said the minister, "you saved my life once, do you remember that?I do, if you don't. "

"Saved your life? What are you talkin' about? Oh! that time on theflats? That wasn't savin' your life, 'twas savin' your clothes fromgettin' a wettin'. "

"No, it was more than that. And now I guess you've saved it again, youand Grace between you. Yes, and Aunt Keziah. Bless her! to think of hergoing way up there to meet you and help us!"

"Yes. 'Twas like her, wasn't it? She said she knew I'd hear the yarnwhen I got to Trumet, but she wanted me to hear it just as it was, andnobody but she and Grace and you knew the whole truth about it. So shecome. I'm glad she did; not that I shouldn't have done the same, whoevertold me, but--"

"Nat, I want to tell you something. Something that only one other personknows. Grace doesn't know it yet. Neither does Aunt Keziah--the whole ofit. And if she knew I told you even a part I'm afraid she would, as shewould say, 'skin me alive. ' But I owe her--and you--more than I couldrepay if I lived a thousand years. So I'm going to tell and take theconsequences. "

The captain looked at him. "Well!" he exclaimed. "What's comin' now?More secrets? Blessed if this ain't gettin' more excitin' than the SouthSeas. I used to think excitement in Trumet was scurcer than cream inpoorhouse coffee, but I'll have to change my mind. "

"Nat, when--that morning after your father died and after you and Gracehad agreed to--to--"

"To do somethin' neither of us wanted to do? Yes, I know. Go ahead. "

"That morning Aunt Keziah came home to the parsonage and broke thenews to me. She did it as only she could do such a thing, kindly andpityingly and--"

"Of course. That's Keziah. "

"Yes. Well, as you can imagine, I was almost crazy. I made a fool ofmyself, I expect; refused to believe her, behaved disgracefully, and atlast, when I had to believe it, threatened to run away and leave my workand Trumet forever, like a coward. She made me stay. "

"Did, hey?"

"Yes. She showed me it was my duty to face the music. When I whimperedabout my troubles she told me her own story. Then I learned what troublewas and what pluck was, too. She told me about her marriage and--excuseme for speaking of what isn't my business; yet it is mine, in a way--shetold me about you. "

Captain Hammond did not answer. His good natured face clouded and heshifted in his chair. 

"She told me of you, Nat, all about you--and herself. And she told mesomething else, which explains why she felt she must send you away, whyshe thought your marriage to Grace would be a good thing. "

"I know. She told you that that darn scamp Anse Coffin was alive. "

The minister started violently. He gasped in surprise. 

"You knew it? You KNEW it?" he stammered. 

"I know it now. Have known it for over a year. My findin' it out was oneof the special Providences that's been helpin' along this last voyage ofmine. My second mate was a Hyannis man, name of Cahoon. One day, onthat pesky island, when we was eatin' dinner together, he says to me, 'Cap'n, ' he says, 'you're from Trumet, ain't you?' I owned up. 'Knowanybody named Coffin there?' says he. I owned up to that, too. 'Well, 'he says, 'I met her husband last trip I was in the Glory of the Wave. 'I stared at him. 'Met his ghost, you mean, ' I says. 'He's been deadfor years, and a good thing, too. Fell overboard and, not bein' used towater, it killed him. '

"But he wouldn't have it so. 'I used to know Anse Coffin in NewBedford, ' he says. 'Knew him well's I know you. And when we was in portat Havre I dropped in at a gin mill down by the water front and he comeup and touched me on the arm. I thought same as you, that he was dead, but he wa'n't. He was three sheets in the wind and a reg'lar dock rat tolook at, but 'twas him sure enough. We had a long talk. He said he wascomin' back to Trumet some day. Had a wife there, he said. I told him, sarcastic, that she'd be glad to see him. He laughed and said maybe not, but that she knew he was alive and sent him money when he was hard up. Wanted me to promise not to tell any Cape folks that I'd seen him, and Iain't till now. '

"Well, you can imagine how I felt when Cahoon spun me that yarn. FirstI wouldn't b'lieve it and then I did. It explained things, just as yousay, John. I could see now why Keziah gave me my walkin' papers. I couldsee how she'd been sacrificin' her life for that scum. "

"Yes. She wouldn't divorce him. She said she had taken him for better orworse, and must stand by him. I tried to show her she was wrong, but itwas no use. She did say she would never live with him again. "

"I should say not. LIVE with him! By the everlastin'! if he ever comeswithin reach of my hands then--there's times when good honest murder isjustifiable and righteous, and it'll be done. It'll be done, you hearme!"

He looked as if he meant it. Ellery asked another question. 

"Did you tell her--Aunt Keziah--when you met her at the Narrows?" heasked. 

"No. But I shall tell her when I see her again. She shan't spoil herlife--a woman like that! by the Lord! WHAT a woman!--for any such crazynotion. I swore it when I heard the story and I've sworn it every daysince. That's what settled my mind about Grace. Keziah Coffin belongsto me. She always has belonged to me, even though my own pig-headednesslost her in the old days. "

"She cares for you, Nat. I know that. She as much as told me so. "

"Thank you, John. Thank you. Well, I can wait now. I can wait, forI've got something sure to wait for. I tell you, Ellery, I ain't achurch-goin' man--not as dad was, anyway--but I truly believe that thisthing is goin' to come out right. God won't let that cussed rascal livemuch longer. He won't! I know it. But if he does, if he lives a thousandyears, I'll take her from him. "

He was pacing the floor now, his face set like granite. Ellery rose, hisown face beaming. Here was his chance. At last he could pay to this manand Keziah a part of the debt he owed. 

Nat stopped in his stride. "Well!" he exclaimed. "I almost forgot, afterall. Keziah sent a note to you. I've got it in my pocket. She gave it tome when she left me at Cohasset. "

"Left you? Why! didn't she come back with you on the night train?"

"No. That's funny, too, and I don't understand it yet. We was togetherall the afternoon. 'I was feelin' so good at seein' her that I took herunder my wing and we cruised all over that town together. Got dinner atthe tavern and she went with me to buy myself a new hat, and all that. At first she didn't seem to want to, but then, after I'd coaxed a while, she did. She was lookin' pretty sad and worn out, when I first met her, I thought; but she seemed to get over it and we had a fine time. Itreminded me of the days when I used to get home from a voyage and wewere together. Then, when 'twas time for the night train we went down tothe depot. She gave me this note and told me to hand it to you to-day. 

"'Good-by, Nat, ' she says. 'We've had a nice day, haven't we?'

"'We have, for a fact, ' I says. 'But what are you sayin' good-by for?'

"'Because I'm not goin' to Trumet with you, ' says she. 'I'm goin' to thecity. I've got some business to see to there. Good-by. '

"I was set back, with all my canvas flappin'. I told her I'd go toBoston with her and we'd come home to Trumet together to-morrow, that's to-day. But she said no. I must come here and ease your mind andGrace's. I must do it. So at last I agreed to, sayin' I'd see her in alittle while. She went on the up train and I took the down one. Hireda team in Sandwich and another in Bayport and got to the tavern abouteleven. That's the yarn. And here's your note. Maybe it tells whereshe's gone and why. "

The minister took the note and tore open the envelope. Within was asingle sheet of paper. He read a few lines, stopped, and uttered anexclamation. 

"What's the matter?" asked the captain. 

Ellery did not answer. He read the note through and then, without aword, handed it to his friend. 

The note was as follows:

"DEAR JOHN:

"I am going away, as I told you I would if he came. He is coming. Tuesday I got a letter from him. It was written at Kingston, Jamaica, almost three months ago. I can't think why I haven't got it sooner, butsuppose it was given to some one to mail and forgotten. In it he saidhe was tired of going to sea and was coming home to me. I had money, he said, and we could get along. He had shipped aboard a brig boundfor Savannah, and from there he was going to try for a berth on aBoston-bound vessel. So I am going away and not coming back. I could notstand the disgrace and I could not see him. You and Grace won't need meany more now. Don't worry about me. I can always earn a living while Ihave my strength. Please don't worry. If he comes tell him I have goneyou do not know where. That will be true, for you don't. I hope you willbe very happy. I do hope so. Oh, John, you don't know how I hate to dothis, but I must. Don't tell Nat. He would do something terrible to himif he came, and Nat knew. Just say I have been called away and may beback some time. Perhaps I may. Love to you all. Good-by. 

"Yours truly, "KEZIAH COFFIN. "

The captain stared at the note. Then he threw it to the floor andstarted for the door. The minister sprang from his chair and called tohim. 

"Nat, " he cried. "Nat! Stop! where are you going?"

Hammond turned. 

"Goin'?" he growled. "Goin'? I'm goin' to find her, first of all. ThenI'm comin' back to wait for him. "

"But you won't have to wait. He'll never come. He's dead. "

"Dead? DEAD? By the everlastin'! this has been too much for you, I oughtto have known it. I'll send the doctor here right off. I can't staymyself. I've got to go. But--"

"Listen! listen to me! Ansel Coffin is dead, I tell you. I know it. Iknow all about it. That was what I wanted to see you about. Did Keziahtell you of the San Jose and the sailor who died of smallpox in thisvery building? In that room there?"

"Yes. John, you--"

"I'm not raving. It's the truth. That sailor was Ansel Coffin. I watchedwith him and one night, the night before he died, he spoke Keziah'sname. He spoke of New Bedford and of Trumet and of her, over and overagain. I was sure who he was then, but I called in Ebenezer Capen, whoused to know Coffin in New Bedford. And he recognized him. Nat, as sureas you and I are here this minute, Ansel Coffin, Aunt Keziah's husband, is buried in the Trumet cemetery. "

CHAPTER XXI

IN WHICH MR. STONE WASHES HIS HANDS

Mr. Abner Stone, of Stone & Barker, marine outfitters and shipchandlers, with a place of business on Commercial Street in Boston, anda bank account which commanded respect throughout the city, was feelingrather irritable and out of sorts. Poor relations are always a nuisance. They are forever expecting something, either money--in Mr. Stone's casethis particular expectation was usually fruitless--or employment orinfluence or something. Mr. Stone was rich, he had become so by his ownability and unaided effort. He was sure of that--often mentioned it, with more or less modesty, in the speeches which he delivered to hisSunday-school class and at the dinners of various societies to which hebelonged. He was a self-made man and was conscious that he had done agood job. 

Therefore, being self-made, he saw no particular reason why he shouldaid in the making of others. If people were poor they ought to get overit. Poverty was a disease and he was no doctor. He had been poor oncehimself, and no one had helped him. "I helped myself, " he was wont tosay, with pride. Some of his rivals in business, repeating this remark, smiled and added that he had been "helping himself" ever since. 

Mr. Stone had "washed his hands" of his cousin, Keziah Coffin, orthought he had. After her brother Solomon died she had written to him, asking him to find her a position of some kind in Boston. "I don't wantmoney, I don't want charity, " wrote Keziah. "What I want is work. Canyou get it for me, Abner? I write to you because father used to tell ofwhat you said to him about gratitude and how you would never rest untilyou had done something in return for what he did for you. "

Captain Ben Hall's kindness was the one thing Mr. Stone forgot when hesaid no one had ever helped him. He disliked to be reminded of it. Itwas a long while ago and the captain was dead. However, being reminded, he had called upon a friend in the tailoring line and had obtained forKeziah the place of sewing woman. She decided to become housekeeper atthe Trumet parsonage and so notified him. Then he washed his hands ofher. 

But now he was compelled to soil them again. Keziah had appeared athis office, without warning, and demanded that he find her a position. "Demanded" was the proper word. Certainly she had not begged. She seemedto feel that her demand was right and proper, and his acceding to it theleast he could do. 

"What a fine place you've got here, Abner!" she said, inspecting theoffice and the store. "I declare it's finer than the one you had whenyou first went into business, afore you failed. I wish father could havelived to see it. He'd have realized that his judgment was good, eventhough his investment wasn't. "

Captain Hall had invested largely in that first business, the one whichfailed. Mr. Stone changed the subject. Later in the day he again soughthis friend, the tailor, and Keziah was installed in the loft of thelatter's Washington Street shop, beside the other women and girls whosewed and sewed from seven in the morning until six at night. Mr. Stonehad left her there and come away, feeling that an unpleasant matterwas disposed of. He had made some inquiries as to where she intendedstaying, even added a half-hearted invitation to dinner that evening athis home. But she declined. 

"No, thank you, Abner, " she said, "I'm goin' to find a boardin' placeand I'd just as soon nobody knew where I was stayin', for the present. And there's one thing I want to ask you: don't tell a soul I am here. Not a soul. If anyone should come askin' for me, don't give 'em anysatisfaction. I'll tell you why some day, perhaps. I can't now. "

This was what troubled Mr. Stone as he sat in his office. Why shouldthis woman wish to have her whereabouts kept a secret? There was areason for this, of course. Was it a respectable reason, or the otherkind? If the latter, his own name might be associated with the scandal. He wished, for the fiftieth time, that there were no poor relations. 

A boy came into the office. "There is some one here to see you, Mr. Stone, " he said. 

"Who is it?"

"I don't know, sir. Looks like a seafaring man, a sea captain, I shouldsay--but he won't give his name. Says it's important and nobody butyou'll do. "

"Humph! All right. Tell him to wait. I'll be out in a minute. "

Sea captains and ship owners were Stone & Barker's best customers. Thesenior partner emerged from the office with a smile on his face. 

"Ah!" he said, extending his hand. "Glad to see you, Captain--er--"

"Hammond, " replied the visitor. "Same to you, Mr. Stone. "

"Fine weather for this time of year. "

"Fine enough, Mr. Stone. "

"Well, Captain Hammond, what can we do for you? Going to sail soon?"

"Not right away. Just made port, less'n a week ago. Home looks good tome, for a spell, anyhow. "

"So? Yes, I have no doubt. Let me see--where is your home, captain? Ishould remember, of course, but--"

"Don't know why you should. This is my first trip in your latitude, Iguess. My home's at Trumet. "

"Trumet?" Mr. Stone's tone changed. 

"Yes. Trumet, down on the Cape. Ever been there? We think it's about asgood a place as there is. "

"Hu-u-m! Trumet? Well, Captain Hammond, you wished to see me, Iunderstand. "

"Yes. Fact is, Mr. Stone, I want to ask you where I can find Mrs. KeziahCoffin. She's a relation of yours, I b'lieve, and she's come to Bostonlately. Only yesterday or the day afore. Can you tell me where she is?"

"Why do you wish to see her?"

"Oh, for reasons, personal ones. She's a friend of mine. "

"I see. No, captain, I can't tell you where she is. Good morning. "

Captain Nat was greatly disappointed. 

"Hold on there, just a minute, " he begged. "This is important, youunderstand, Mr. Stone. I'm mighty anxious to find Kezi--Mrs. Coffin. Wethought, some of her friends and I, that most likely you'd know whereshe was. Can't you give us any help at all? Hasn't she been here?"

"Good morning, Captain Hammond. You must excuse me, I'm busy. "

He went into the office and closed the door. Captain Nat rubbed hisforehead desperately. He had been almost sure that Abner Stone would puthim on Keziah's track. Grace had thought so, too. She remembered whatthe housekeeper had told concerning her Boston cousin and how the latterhad found employment for her when she contemplated leaving Trumet, afterher brother's death. Grace believed that Keziah would go to him at once. 

Nat walked to the door and stood there, trying to think what to do next. A smart young person, wearing a conspicuous suit of clothes, aided andabetted by a vivid waistcoat and a pair of youthful but promising sidewhiskers, came briskly along the sidewalk and stopped in front of him. 

"Well, sir?" observed this person, with cheerful condescension. "Anything I can do for you?"

Captain Nat turned his gaze upon the side whiskers and the waistcoat. 

"Hey?" he queried. 

"I say, is there anything I can do for you?"

The captain shook his head. "No-o, " he drawled dryly, "I'm afraid not, son. I admit that don't seem scarcely possible, but I am afraid it'sso. "

"Looking for something in our line, was you?"

"Well, I don't know. What might be on your line--clothes?"

The bewhiskered one drew himself up. "I am connected with Stone &Barker, " he said sharply. "And, seeing you standing in our doorway, Ithought possibly--"

"Yes, yes. Beg your pardon, I'm sure. No, I don't want to buy anything. I come to see Mr. Stone on a personal matter. "

"He's busy, I suppose. "

"So he says. "

The young man smiled with serene satisfaction. "I'm not surprised, " heobserved complacently. "We ARE a busy house, Mr--er--"

"Hammond's my name. Are you Mr. Barker?"

"No-o, my name is Prince. "

"So? Silent partner in the firm, hey?"

"No-o, not exactly. " Mr. Prince was slightly embarrassed. "No, I am a--asalesman--at present. Was the matter you wished to see Mr. Stone about avery private one?"

"Middlin'. '"

"Well, I asked because Mr. Stone is a busy man and we like to save himall the--the--"

"Trouble you can, hey? That's nice of you, you must save him a lot, Mr--er--King, was it?"

"No, Prince. "

"Sure and sartin', Prince, of course. I knew 'twas connected with theroyal family. Well, Mr. Prince, I'm afraid even you can't help me norhim out this time. I'm lookin' up a friend of mine, a widow lady fromdown the Cape. She's a relation of Mr. Stone's, and she's come to Bostondurin' the last day or so. I thought likely he might know where she was, that's all. That would be a little out of your latitude, hey?"

"I don't know. Her name wasn't Coffin, was it?"

Captain Nat started. "It certainly was, " he answered eagerly. "How'd youknow that?"

Mr. Prince's complacence was superb. "Oh, " he answered withcondescension, "Mr. Stone trusts me with a good many of his personalaffairs. "

"I should think likely he would. But about Mrs. Coffin? You was goin' tosay?"

"She is with James Hallett & Co. , the tailors, on Washington Street. Mr. Stone found a place for her there, I believe. I--er--er--superintendedthe carrying of her valise and--What?"

"Nothin', nothin'. Hum! Hallett & Co. , tailors? What number Washin'tonStreet did you say?"

Mr. Prince gave the number. 

"Thank you a lot, " said Captain Nat, with fervor. "Good-by, Mr. Prince. Hope the next time I come you'll be in the firm. Good day, sir. "

"Good day. Nothing else I can do? And you won't wait for Mr. Stone? Verygood. Is there any message for him that you would like to leave?"

"Hey?" Nat had started to go, but now he paused and turned. There wasa grim twinkle in his eye. "Message?" he repeated. "Why, ye-es, I don'tknow but there is. You just give Mr. Stone Cap'n Hammond's complimentsand tell him I'm lookin' forward to interviewin' him some time. Justtell him that, will you?"

"I'll tell him. Glad to have met you, Captain Hammond. "

The captain nodded solemnly. "Say, Mr. King, " he said, "you ain't halfso glad as I am. "

Mr. Prince strutted into the store. 

"Who was that chap you were talking with?" asked a fellow-clerk. 

"Oh, a hayseed who wanted to see the old man. Poor relation, I guess. I headed him off. Stone is always telling us that time is money, so Isaved both of 'em for him. He ought to thank me. Wouldn't be surprisedif I got the raise I've been asking for. "

Mr. Prince did not get the raise, nor the thanks. But he was surprised. 

In the workshop of Hallett & Co. , Keziah sat sewing busily. The windownear her was closed, stuck fast, and through the dingy panes she couldsee only roofs and chimneys. The other women and girls near herchatted and laughed, but she was silent. She did not feel like talking, certainly not like laughing. The garment she was at work on was a coat, a wedding coat, so the foreman had told her, with a smile; therefore shemust be very particular. 

She wondered idly whose coat it might be and who its future wearer wasto marry. This reminded her of the minister and Grace. They would behappy now, her talk with Nat had assured her of that, and they, too, would be married one of these days. But she would not attend thewedding. She wondered what John had said when he read her note. He andGrace would be sorry for her, of course; but there was nothing theycould do to help. No one could help her, no one. Perhaps by this timethe man she had run away from had reached Trumet and her secret wasknown. How Didama and the rest would spread the tale! How CaptainElkanah and Annabel would sneer and exult! They hated her because shewas the minister's friend. And Nat, poor fellow, what would he do? Well, at least he would understand now. 

The narrow stairway leading up to the workshop ended in a littleboxed-in room where the finished garments were hung to await the finalpressing. From behind the closed door of this room came the sound ofvoices, apparently in heated argument. One of these voices was that ofLarry, the errand boy. Larry was speaking shrilly and with emphasis. Theother voice was lower in key and the words were inaudible. 

"No, sir, you can't, " declared Larry. "You can't, I tell you. The bossdon't let nobody in there and--Hold on! Hold on!"

The other voice made a short but evidently earnest answer. Larry againexpostulated. The workers looked up from their sewing. The door openedand Larry appeared, flushed and excited. 

"Where's Mr. Upham?" he demanded. "Mr. Upham!"

Upham was the foreman of the workroom. At the moment he was downstairsin conversation with the head of the house. A half dozen gave thisinformation. 

"What's the matter? Who is it?" asked several. 

"I don't know who 'tis. It's a man and he's crazy, I think. I told himhe couldn't come in here, but he just keeps comin'. He wants to seesomebody named Coffin and there ain't no Coffins here. "

Keziah bent lower over the wedding coat. Her hand shook and she droppedthe needle. 

"I told him we didn't keep coffins, " declared Larry. "This ain't noundertaker's. Where's Mr. Upham?"

Keziah's nearest neighbor leaned toward her. 

"I guess it's somebody to see you, " she said. "Your name is Coffin, ain't it?"

"No, no. That is, it can't be anybody to see me. I don't want to seeanybody. Tell him so, whoever it is. I can't see anybody. I--NAT!"

He stood in the doorway, beckoning to her. 

"Keziah, " he said, "come here. I want you. I'll tell you why in aminute. Come!"

She hesitated. In a measure she was relieved, for she had feared theman at the door might be her husband. But she was greatly agitated andtroubled. Everyone in the place was looking at her. 

"Nat, " she said, trying to speak firmly, "I can't see you now. I'm verybusy. Please go away. "

"Come!"

"I can't come. Go away. Please!"

"Keziah, I'm waitin'. And I'm goin' to wait if I stay here all night. Come!"

She obeyed then. She could not have a scene there, before all thosestrangers. She stepped past him into the little room. He followed andclosed the door. 

"Nat, " she said, turning to him, "why did you come? How could you be socruel? I--"

He interrupted her, but not with words. The next moment his arms wereabout her and she was pressed tight against the breast of his bluejacket. 

"Keziah, " he whispered, "I've come to take you home. Home for good. No, stay where you are and I'll tell you all about it. Praise be to God!we're off the rocks at last. All that's left is to tow you into port, and, by the everlastin', that's what I'm here for!"

When Upham came up the stairs after his long interview with "the boss, "he found the door at the top closed. When he rattled the latch that doorwas opened by a stranger. 

"Are you Mr. Hallett?" asked Captain Nat briskly. 

"No, I'm not. Mr. Hallett is in his office on the first floor. Butwhat--"

"On the main deck, hey? Well, all right; we won't trouble him. You'lldo just as well; I judge you're one of the mates of this craft. You tellMr. Hallett that this lady here has decided not to cruise with him anylonger. No fault to find, you understand, but she's got a better berth. She's goin' to ship along with me. Ain't that so, Keziah?"

Keziah, pale, trembling, scarcely realizing the situation even yet, did not speak. But Captain Nat Hammond seemed to find his answer in hersilence. A few minutes later, her arm in his, they descended the gloomy, dusty stairs, and emerged into the sunshine together. 

That afternoon Mr. Abner Stone again "washed his hands" of his poorrelation--this time, as he indignantly declared, "for good and all. "

CHAPTER XXII

IN WHICH KEZIAH'S PARSON PREACHES ONCE MORE

Time has wrought many changes in Trumet. The packet long since ceased toply between the village and Boston, the stage has been superseded bythe locomotive, the old "square-riggers, " commanded by Cape Cod men, nolonger sail the seas. Along the main road the houses have changed hands. Didama Rogers peers no more from her parlor window; that parlor is nowprofaned by the frivolous and irreverent summer boarder. But the oldresidents love to talk of the days that are gone and if you happen tocatch Mr. Isaac Higgins, now postmaster and a dignified member of theboard of selectmen, in a reminiscent mood he will very likely tell youof the meeting of the parish committee called by its chairman, ElkanahDaniels, to oust the Rev. John Ellery from the pulpit of the Regularchurch. 

"I'll never forget, " says Mr. Higgins, "that parish committee meetin' ifI live a thousand year. I, and two or three other young shavers, was hidin the little room off the vestry--the room where they kept the dishesthey used for church suppers--and we heard the whole business. Of coursenobody knew that Nat was goin' to marry Keziah then, but they did knowthat he wa'n't goin' to marry Grace Van Horne, and had given her upto the minister of his own accord. So Daniels's guns was spiked and hedidn't stand no chance at all. However, you'd never have guessed itto look at him. He marched into that meetin' and up to the platform asstiff and dignified as if he'd swallered a peck of starch. He calledthe meetin' to order--'twas a full one, for all hands and the cook wasthere--and then got up to speak. 

"He opened fire right off. He raked John Ellery fore and aft. Theparson, he said, had disgraced the society and his sacred professionand should be hove overboard immediate. 'Twas an open secret, he said. Everybody knew how he, minister of a Reg'lar church, had been carryin'on with a Come-Outer girl, meetin' her unbeknownst to anyone, and so on. As he got warmed up on this subject he got more bitter and, though hedidn't come out open and say slanderous things, his hints was as nighthat as a pig's snout is to his squeal. Even through the crack of thedish-closet door I could see the bristles risin' on the back of Cap'nZeb Mayo's neck. 

"At last Cap'n Zeb couldn't stand it no longer. 

"'Belay there!' he sings out, jumpin' to his feet. 'I want to ask youone question, Elkanah Daniels: Are you tryin' to say somethin' againstGrace Van Horne's character?'

"Well, that was a sort of sticker, in a way, and I cal'late Danielsrealized it. He 'hum-ha'd' and barked a little and then give in that hecouldn't swear the Van Horne person's character wa'n't all right, but--"

"'Couldn't swear!' snorts Zeb. 'You better not try to, not when theminister or Nat's around. Aw, belay! you want us to fire John Elleryout of this society--the best minister it ever had or ever willhave--because he had the sense to get sweet on a good clean girl and thespunk to ask her to marry him. And you're down on her because she's beenbrought up in a Come-Outer family--at least, that's the reason you giveout, though some of us have suspicions 'tain't the real one. Why! sherisked what she thought was smallpox to keep him from dyin' that nightshe picked him up, ravin' distracted, in the middle of the lighthouselane, and if he hadn't married her after that I, for one, would havebeen willin' to vote to give him his walkin' papers, Come-Outer she mayhave been, but, by time, she's got religion that's good enough for meand I'll be proud to see her the wife of my minister. Don't let's haveno more chin music. We know what you want and what you called thismeetin' for; now let's vote on it. '

"Three or four sung out 'Question' and 'Vote. ' But Elkanah held up hishand. 

"'Gentlemen, ' says he, 'before I ask for the vote I want to say just oneword. I've worshiped in this meetin' house ever sence I was a child. Iwas christened in it; my father worshiped here afore me; I've presidedover the meetin's of this body for years. But I tell you now that if youvote to keep that rascally hypocrite in your pulpit I shall resign fromthe committee and from the society. It'll be like cuttin' off my righthand, but I shall do it. Are you ready for the vote? Those in favor ofretaining the present minister of this parish will rise. Those opposedwill remain seated. '

"Every man on the floor stood up. Daniels himself was the only one thatstayed settin' down. 

"'It is a vote, ' says he, white as a sheet, and his voice trembling. 'Gentlemen, I bid you good day. '

"He took up his hat and cane, give one look around the vestry, as ifhe was sayin' good-by to it, and marched down the aisle as straight andstarchy as he'd come into it. Only, when he reached the door, he put upone hand as if he was steadyin' himself. There was precious few in thatvestry that liked Elkanah Daniels, but I'm bettin' high there wa'n't aone who didn't feel sorry for him then. 

"'Twas quiet as could be for a minute or so after he'd gone. Then Cap'nZeb draws a big breath and flings up his hand. 

"'Shipmates, ' says he, 'this is the Almighty's house and we've got to doit quiet, but I propose three whisperin' cheers for the Rev. John Elleryand the lady that's goin' to be his wife. '

"So they give 'em--hearty, too, if they was whispered--and that's allthere is to that meetin' worth tellin' about. "

Captain Daniels and his daughter moved to Boston that summer. They nevercame back to Trumet to live. Annabel remained single until after herfather's death; then she married a man very much younger and poorerthan she was. It was remarked by acquaintances of the couple that thedifference in age became less and less apparent as their married lifecontinued. 

"Humph!" observed Captain Zeb, summing up the situation, "he startedabout ten year astern, but he'll beat her on the run into the cemetery, now you mark my words. Annabel's temper's cal'lated to keep any averagechap drivin' on that course, bows under. There's a three-reef breezeblowin' off her tongue, day and night. "

On a Sunday morning, a few weeks after the committee meeting, theRegular church was crowded. John Ellery was to preach his first sermonsince the San Jose came ashore. Every member of the congregation waspresent. Even Mrs. Prince, feeble but garrulous, was there. GaiusWinslow, having delivered his brood of children at the church door, madea special trip in his carryall to fetch the old lady. Captain Zebedeeand Mrs. Mayo beamed from their pew. Dr Parker and his wife smiled atthem across the aisle. Didama Rogers's new bonnet was a work of art andher neck threatened to twist itself off as she turned to see each onewho came in. 

Lavinia Pepper sailed to the front. She was dressed in a new blackalpaca which rustled so very much like silk that nearsighted peoplemight have been deceived by it. With her was a man, apparently sufferingfrom strangulation because of the height and tightness of his collar. "It's Caleb Pratt, from Sandwich, " whispered Didama. "Thankful Payne'srelation, you know. Have you heard what folks are sayin'? I guessit's true, because--Look at Kyan! you'd think he was goin' to his ownfuneral. "

Abishai's expression was not cheerful, certainly. He followed Mr. Prattand his sister to the Pepper pew and subsided sadly in the corner nextthe wall. Occasionally he was observed to wipe his forehead and once--itwas during the prayer--he groaned audibly. Lavinia's dig in the ribsprevented his repeating the sound, but, judging by his looks, hecontinued to groan in spirit. 

There was a stir at the door. All heads swung in that direction--all butMr. Pepper's, that is. The minister and Grace were coming up the aisleand behind them came Captain Nat Hammond and Keziah Coffin. Nat wassmiling and self-possessed. Never before in his life had he entered theRegular meeting house as a worshiper, but he seemed to be bearing theordeal bravely. It was Grace's first visit to the church, also, and shewas plainly embarrassed. To be stared at by eighty-odd pairs of eyes, and to catch whispered comments from the starers' tongues, is likely toembarrass one. 

Yet the comments were all friendly. 

"I declare!" whispered Mrs. Prince, "I never see her look so prettyafore. I knew she was the best lookin' girl in this town, but I neverrealized she was SUCH a beauty. Well, there's one thing sartin'--we'vegot the handsomest parson and parson's wife in THIS county, by about tenmile and four rows of apple trees. And there's the other bride that'sgoin' to be. I never see Keziah look so well, neither. "

Keziah did look well. Her parson had emerged triumphant from his battlewith disease and adverse fate and was more than ever the idol of hiscongregation. He was to marry the girl of his choice--and hers. Thehousekeeper's ears were still ringing with the thanks of John and Grace. Both seemed to feel that to her, Keziah Coffin, more than anyone else, they owed their great joy. Some of the things they said she would neverforget. And her own life, too, was freed forever of its burden, thesecret which had hung over her for so many years. Only a very few knewthat secret, and they would not disclose it. Toward the memory of theman buried in the stranger's lot at the cemetery she felt almostkindly now. While he lived she had feared and dreaded him, now she wasbeginning to forgive. For he had paid his debt with his life, and withher, beside her, was the other, the one whom she had loved, had givenup, had mourned for, and who was now to be hers always. No wonder Keziahlooked well. She was happy, and happiness is a wondrous beautifier. 

The minister went up the stairs to the pulpit. He was still white andthin, but his eyes were bright and his voice clear. He gave out theopening hymn and the service began. 

They said it was the finest sermon ever preached in that church, andperhaps it was. When it was over, before the benediction was pronounced, Ellery stepped out from behind the pulpit to the edge of the platform. He looked over the friendly faces upturned to his and, for an instant, it seemed that he could not trust himself to speak. 

"My friends, " he said, "I cannot let you go without a personal word. Iowe you so much, all of you, that nothing I can say will convey to youmy feeling of gratitude and love for this congregation and this church. You have stood by me all through. You trusted me and believed in me. Icame to Trumet a stranger. I have found here the truest friends a mancould hope to find--yes, and more than friends. If I live, and whileI live, I shall hope to prove by the best effort that is in me myrealization of the great debt I owe you and my desire to repay it, eventhough the payment must, of necessity, be so inadequate. God bless youall--and thank you. "

"Wa'n't it lovely!" gushed Didama. "And when he said that about truefriends he was lookin' straight at Gracie all the time. "

"Didn't seem to me so, " declared Gaius Winslow. "I thought he waslookin' at Cap'n Hammond. "

"Well, now, that's queer, " put in Mrs. Parker, the doctor's wife. "Iwould have sworn he was looking at Keziah Coffin. "

Captain Zebedee grinned. "I cal'late you're all right, " he observed. "Iwouldn't wonder if he was lookin' at all of 'em. "

There was much hand shaking and congratulation and the church emptiedslowly. Among the last to leave were the Peppers and Mr. Pratt. Laviniatook the minister aside. 

"Mr. Ellery, " she simpered, "I've--that is, Caleb and me--will prob'lywant you to--That is, we want you to be the one--"

"Yes, Miss Pepper?"

"Oh, my sakes! you see--'Bishy dear, come here a minute, won't you?"

Kyan approached, the picture of desolation. 

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly. 

"Heavens to Betsy! Don't look so sour. A body'd think you was goin'to be hung, to look at you. 'Bishy, you tell Mr. Ellery all about it, there's a dear. He'll tell you, Mr. Ellery; and remember we count onyou. Neither me nor Caleb wont have nobody else. "

She seized Mr. Pratt by the arm and led him hastily away. Kyan lookedafter them. 

"Hung?" he muttered. "I wish, by godfreys mighty, I had the hangin' ofSOME folks! I'd put a tighter collar on 'em than they've got now, I betyou!"

The minister's lips twitched. He knew what was coming. Hints of asurprising nature had been circulating about Trumet. 

"What's the matter, Mr. Pepper?" he asked. 

"Matter? Matter enough! You know what she's goin' to do? She's goin' tomarry THAT!"

The last word was emphasized by a furious gesticulation toward the backof the gentleman from Sandwich. 

"Who? Mr. Pratt? Is your sister to marry him? Indeed! I congratulatethem both--and you. "

"Me? What in tunket--I ask your pardon, Mr. Ellery, for talkin' so inthe meetin' house--but what are you congratulatin' me for?"

"Why, because your sister is to have a good husband; at least peoplespeak highly of him. "

"Ugh!"

"And because--well, Mr. Pepper, you have been quite confidential withme; we have shared secrets, you know; and I thought possibly the newarrangement might make it a bit more pleasant for you. "

"Pleasant? How?"

"I suppose Mr. Pratt will take his bride home to Sandwich, and you, being here alone, will be more free. "

"Free?" Kyan repeated the word wrathfully. "Free! I'll be about as freeas a settin' hen under a barrel, I will. Is a feller free when he'sgot two pickin' at him instead of one? I thought I was goin' to have alittle peace and comfort; I thought that same as you, Mr. Ellery. I'vehad my suspicions as to her and him for some time. That day when Ical'lated I'd locked her up and come back to find she'd gone buggyridin', I thought 'twas queer. When she went to conference and leftme alone I smelt a rat. When she took to letter writin' the smell gotstronger; until the last few weeks I've been sartin of the game she wasup to. And I never complained, no sir! Some brothers would have rippedup the eternal foundations afore they'd have let their sister breakup their home and desert 'em for a stiff-necked, bald-headed old shoepeddler like--"

"Hush! hush! Mr. Pepper. You forget--"

"No, I don't forget, nuther. Mr. Ellery, you don't know it all. WhenLaviny come to me and told me what she was goin' to do, was I obstinate?Did I stand on my rights as head of the family and tell her she couldn'tdo it? No, sir-ee, I didn't! I was resigned. I says to her, 'Laviny, 'I says, 'I won't say that I shan't be turrible lonesome without you. Iwon't say that I ain't sort of shocked and grieved at our partin' afterall these years. But what's my personal feelin's when I compare 'em withyour happiness? Nothin', nothin' at all!' I says. 'Bless you, Laviny, 'says I. 'When you goin' to go away?' And what do you s'pose she says tome? Why, that she wa'n't goin' away at all. That--that Pratt thinghas sold out his shoe store up to Sandwich and is comin' here to live. Comin' to live at our HOUSE, mind you, with her and with ME! ''Twill beso nice for you, 'Bishy dear, ' she says, 'to have a man in the houseto keep you comp'ny and look out for you when I ain't round. ' Godfreysmighty!"

This portion of Kyan's disclosure was surprising, if the announcement ofhis sister's engagement was not. 

"Mr. Pratt is coming to Trumet?" the minister repeated. "What for? Whatis he going to do here?"

"Keep shoe store, I s'pose likely. Laviny says there's a good openin'for one in this town. I told her the best openin' I could think of forhim was the well and I hoped to the nation he'd fall into it. Then shewent for me like a dogfish after a herrin' and I never had a taste ofvittles till I'd took it all back and said I was glad he was goin' tolive with us. Free! Don't talk to me about freedom! Godfreys mighty!"

Ellery smothered his desire to laugh and expressed sympathy. Abishailistened in sullen silence. 

"Well, " he said, turning to go, "I ain't goin' to stand it, if I canhelp it. I've been doin' some thinkin' on my own account and there'stwo ways of gettin' even. That Caleb critter is marryin' into our family'cause he knows I'm well off. I'll cheat him, by godfreys! I'll willevery cent of my fifteen hundred dollars to the poor or the heathen orsomethin'. I will, sure's taxes. "

The minister was obliged to laugh, then. 

"I wouldn't do that, " he said. "From what I hear, Mr. Pratt is worthseveral times fifteen hundred. "

"I know it; but he's so dum mean that 'twould break his heart to seeeven ten cents gettin' away from him. However, that ain't my only plan. He and Laviny ain't got any mortgage on the marryin' business. Other folks can do it as well as them. What do you think of HannahPoundberry?"

"What do I think of her? What do you mean?"

"Never mind what I mean. Just you keep that in your head, Mr. Ellery. You remember that I asked you, as man to man, 'What do you think ofHannah Poundberry?'--Yes, yes, Laviny, I'm a-comin'. They want me toask you to marry 'em, " he added. "I s'pose you'll have to. But say, Mr. Ellery, when you do, just tell Pratt that your usual price for thejob is ten dollars. That'll spile his honeymoon for him, or I miss myguess. "

He turned away and moved sulkily toward his beckoning sister and herescort; but wheeled once more to add, in a mysterious whisper, "Don'tyou forget now, Mr. Ellery. Remember that question I put to you: 'Whatdo you think of'--Yes, yes, La-viny, I hear you!--of you know who?'"

That evening, at the parsonage, Keziah was clearing the table andCaptain Nat was helping her. A happy party of four had enjoyed the meal, John and Mrs. Coffin acting as hosts and Grace and the captain being theinvited guests. Now the younger couple had gone over to the church, thebell of which was ringing for evening service. 

"Hurry up, Keziah, " urged Nat. "If you and me don't get decks clearedpretty soon we'll be late for meetin', and I'd hate to do that, considerin' I'm such a brand-new disciple, as you might say. What do wedo next, shorten sail? Like this, hey?"

He pulled the cloth from the table, sending the crumbs flying in alldirections, and proceeded to fold it, after a fashion. 

"There!" he exclaimed with satisfaction; "there she is, canvas furledand under bare poles. Now we can clear out, can't we? What's thematter?"

Keziah took the cloth from his hands and refolded it. 

"Nat Hammond, " she said, laughing, "you may be a good sailor, but you'rean awful poor housekeeper. Look at the mess you've made of that floor. "

Nat looked at the scattered crumbs and shook his head. 

"By the everlastin'!" he observed, "I did make dirty weather on thattack, didn't I? Cal'late I ain't much of a housekeeper, same as you say. Maybe that's why I was so dreadful anxious to get a good one to cruisealong with me. Well, I've got her. I'm satisfied. "

He walked to the back door of the kitchen, threw it open, and stoodlooking out. 

"Keziah, " he said, "come here a minute. "

She came from the dining room and stood at his side. He put an arm abouther. 

"Look off there, " he said, pointing with his free hand. "See that?"

The sun was just setting and all the west was gorgeous with crimson andpurple and yellow. The bay was spangled with fire, the high sand bluffsalong the shore looked like broken golden ingots. The fields and swampsand salt meadows, rich in their spring glory of bud and new leaf, weretinged with the ruddy glow. The Trumet roofs were bathed in it, theold packet, asleep at her moorings by the breakwater, was silhouettedagainst the radiance. The church bell had ceased to ring and there wasnot a sound, except the low music of the distant surf. 

"Look at it, Keziah, " urged Captain Nat. 

"I'm lookin', Nat, " she answered. "It's beautiful. "

"Ain't it? I love it, you know that, and I never thought I should beanxious for the time to come when I must leave it. But I am. I want togo. "

They were to be married in another month. It would be a double wedding, for Grace and the minister were to be married at the same time. Then Natand his wife were to go to New York, where a new ship, just out ofthe builders' hands, was to be ready for him. She was a fine one, thissuccessor to the Sea Mist. She had been building for more than a yearand when Captain Hammond returned, safe and sound, and with their moneyin his possession, the owners decided at once that he should command theaddition to their fleet. She was to sail for Liverpool and Keziah was tobe a passenger. 

"I can't hardly wait to get to sea, " went on Nat. "Think of it! No morelonesome meals in the cabin, thinkin' about you and about home. No, sir!you and home'll be right aboard with me. Think of the fun we'll have inthe foreign ports. London, and you and me goin' sightseein' through it!And Havre and Gibraltar and Marseilles and Genoa and--and--by and by, Calcutta and Hong Kong and Singapore. I've seen 'em all, of course, butyou haven't. I tell you, Keziah, that time when I first saw a real hopeof gettin' you, that time after I'd learned from John that that bigtrouble of yours was out of the way forever, on my way up to Boston inthe cars I made myself a promise--I swore that if you did say yes to meI'd do my best to make the rest of your life as smooth and pleasant asthe past so far had been rough. I ain't rich enough to give you what youdeserve, nowhere near; but I'll work hard and do my best, my girl--yousee. "

Keziah was looking out over the bay, her eyes brighter than the sunset. Now she turned to look up into his face. 

"Rich!" she repeated, with a little catch in her voice. "Rich! therenever was a woman in this world so rich as I am this minute. Or sohappy, either. "