eet you and help us!"

"Yes. 'Twas like her, wasn't it? She said she knew I'd hear the yarn
when I got to Trumet, but she wanted me to hear it just as it was, and
nobody but she and Grace and you knew the whole truth about it. So she
come. I'm glad she did; not that I shouldn't have done the same, whoever
told me, but--"

"Nat, I want to tell you something. Something that only one other person
knows. Grace doesn't know it yet. Neither does Aunt Keziah--the whole of
it. And if she knew I told you even a part I'm afraid she would, as she
would say, 'skin me alive.' But I owe her--and you--more than I could
repay if I lived a thousand years. So I'm going to tell and take the
consequences."

The captain looked at him. "Well!" he exclaimed. "What's comin' now?
More secrets? Blessed if this ain't gettin' more excitin' than the South
Seas. I used to think excitement in Trumet was scurcer than cream in
poorhouse coffee, but I'll have to change my mind."

"Nat, when--that morning after your father died and after you and Grace
had agreed to--to--"

"To do somethin' neither of us wanted to do? Yes, I know. Go ahead."

"That morning Aunt Keziah came home to the parsonage and broke the
news to me. She did it as only she could do such a thing, kindly and
pityingly and--"

"Of course. That's Keziah."

"Yes. Well, as you can imagine, I was almost crazy. I made a fool of
myself, I expect; refused to believe her, behaved disgracefully, and at
last, when I had to believe it, threatened to run away and leave my work
and Trumet forever, like a coward. She made me stay."

"Did, hey?"

"Yes. She showed me it was my duty to face the music. When I whimpered
about my troubles she told me her own story. Then I learned what trouble
was and what pluck was, too. She told me about her marriage and--excuse
me for speaking of what isn't my business; yet it is mine, in a way--she
told me about you."

Captain Hammond did not answer. His good natured face clouded and he
shifted in his chair.

"She told me of you, Nat, all about you--and herself. And she told me
something else, which explains why she felt she must send you away, why
she thought your marriage to Grace would be a good thing."

"I know. She told you that that darn scamp Anse Coffin was alive."

The minister started violently. He gasped in surprise.

"You knew it? You KNEW it?" he stammered.

"I know it now. Have known it for over a year. My findin' it out was one
of the s