Keziah Coffin

by Joseph Crosby Lincoln

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. "We
ll!" 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