Keziah Coffin

by Joseph Crosby Lincoln

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 chang
es 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'