Keziah Coffin
Page 8
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 a
nd 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