Very well.It is a beautiful evening for a walk,don't you think so?Mr.Ellery,I'm afraid we shan't have you with us in Trumet very long.Why not?
Oh,because you're so very,very original.Are your sermons that way,too?Captain Elkanah doesn't like his ministers to be too original.The minister set his teeth.At that moment he felt an intense desire to bid the Daniels family mind their own business.Then another thought struck him.
Possibly your Uncle Eben might be somewhat--er--surprised if he knew you were with me.Perhaps he might have something to say on the subject.I guess he would.We shall know very soon.I ran away and left him with Mrs.Poundberry,our housekeeper.He doesn't know where Iam.I wonder he hasn't turned back to look for me before this.We shall probably meet him at any moment.She seemed to enjoy the prospect of the meeting.Ellery wondered what on earth he should say to Captain Hammond--that is,provided he was allowed to say anything.
Suddenly a heavier gust of rain and wind beat upon them.The minister struggled with the umbrella.The gust passed and with it the fog.An instant before it had been all about them,shutting them within inky walls.Now it was not.Through the rain he could see the shadowy silhouettes of bushes at the road side.Fifty yards away the lighted windows of the Hammond tavern gleamed yellow.Farther on,over a ragged,moving fringe of grass and weeds,was a black flat expanse--the bay.And a little way out upon that expanse twinkled the lights of a vessel.A chain rattled.Voices shouting exultingly came to their ears.
Why!exclaimed Grace in excited wonder,it's the packet!She was due this morning,but we didn't expect her in till to-morrow.How did she find her way in the fog?I must tell uncle.She started to run toward the house.The minister would have followed with the umbrella,but she stopped him.
No,Mr.Ellery,she urged earnestly.No,please don't.I'm all right now.Thank you.Good night.A few steps farther on she turned.
I hope Cap'n Elkanah won't know,she whispered,the laugh returning to her voice.Good night.Ellery stood still in the rain and watched her.He saw her pass the lighted windows and open a door.Into the yellow radiance she flashed and disappeared.A minute more and the bulky form of Eben Hammond,lantern in hand,a sou'wester on his head and his shoulders working themselves into an oilskin coat,burst out of the door and hurriedly limped down toward the shore.On the threshold,framed in light,stood his ward,gazing after him.And the minister gazed at her.
From the bay came the sound of oars in row-locks.A boat was approaching the wharf.And suddenly from the boat came a hail.
Halloo!Ahoy,dad!Is that you?
There was an answering shout from the wharf;a shout of joy.Then a rattle of oars and a clamor of talk.And Grace still stood in the doorway,waiting.
The lantern bobbed up the slope.As it reached the tavern gateway,the minister saw that it was now carried by a tall,active man,who walked with a seaman's stride and roll.Captain Eben was close beside him,talking excitedly.
They entered the yard.
Grace!Grace!screamed Captain Eben.Gracie,girl,look who's come!Look!The tall man ran forward.
Hi,Grace!he cried in a deep,hearty voice.Is that you?Ain't you got a word for your old messmate?
The girl stepped out into the rain.
Why!why,NAT!she cried.
The big man picked her up bodily in his arms and carried her into the house.Captain Eben followed and the door closed.
John Ellery picked his way homeward through the puddles and the pouring rain.
He found Keziah in the sitting room,seated by the table,evidently writing a letter.She looked tired and grave--for her.
Well!she exclaimed as he entered.I guess you're soppin'now,sartin sure.There's a light in your room.Take off your wet things and throw 'em down to me,and I'll dry 'em in the kitchen.Better leave your boots here now and stand that umbrella in the sink.The kettle's on the stove;you'd better have somethin'hot--ginger tea or somethin'.I told you not to go out such a night as this.Where in the world have you been?The minister said he would tell her all about it in the morning.
Just now he thought he had better go up and take off his wet clothes.He declined the ginger tea,and,after removing his boots,went upstairs to his room.
Keziah dipped her pen in the ink and went on with her letter.
I inclose ten dollars,she wrote.It is all I can send you now.More than I ought to afford.Goodness knows why I send anything.You don't deserve it.But while I live and you do I can't--The minister called from the landing.
Here is my coat,he said.The cuffs and lower part of the sleeves are pretty wet.By the way,the packet came in to-night.They didn't expect her so soon on account of the fog.There was a passenger aboard whom I think must be that Nathaniel Hammond you told me of.Keziah's pen stopped.The wet coat struck the hall floor with a soft thump.The tick of the clock sounded loud in the room.Asheet of wind-driven rain lashed the windows.
Did you hear?called the minister.I said that Nathaniel Hammond,Captain Eben's son,came on the packet.I didn't meet him,but I'm sure it was he.Er--Mrs.Coffin,are you there?Do you hear me?The housekeeper laid the pen down beside the unfinished letter.
Yes,she said,I hear you.Good night.
For minutes she sat there,leaning back in her chair and staring at the wall.Then she rose,went into the hall,picked up the coat,and took it out into the kitchen,where she hung it on the clotheshorse by the cook stove.After a while she returned to the table and took up the pen.Her face in the lamplight looked more tired and grave than ever.
It was a long time before John Ellery fell asleep.He had much to think of--of the morrow,of the talk his rash visit to the chapel would cause,of the explanation he must make to Captain Elkanah and the rest.But the picture that was before his closed eyes as he lay there was neither of Captain Elkanah nor the parish committee;it was that of a girl,with dark hair and a slim,graceful figure,standing in a lighted doorway and peering out into the rain.
