Keziah Coffin

by Joseph Crosby Lincoln

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 wh
ere 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