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
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