The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1912-11-15
CHAPTER IV.-(Contlnued.)


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 rowlocks. A boat was ap-
preaching the wharf. And suddenly
from the boat came hail.
"Halloo! Alloy, dad! Is that your"
There was ar answering shout from
the wharf; 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 tall, active man, who walked with
a seaman's stride and roll. Captain
Eben was close beside him, talking ex-
citedly
They entered the yard.
Grace! Grace!" screamed Captain
Eben. Oracle, girl, look who's come!
Look!"
The tall man ran forward.
Hi, Grace!" he cried in a deep,
hearty voice rs that you? Amt you
got word for your old messmate?"
The girl stepped out into the rain.
why! why, Natl" 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 home
ward 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
Welt" she exclaimed as he en-
tered. 81 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
EN- in the kitchen. Better leave
your boots here now and stand that
umbrella in the sink. The kettles 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
Keziah dipped her pen in the ink
and went on with her letter
81 inclose ten dollars" she wrote.
1T is all l can send you now. More
than l ought to afford. Goodness
knows why I send anything. You don't
deserve It, But while I live and YOU
do | can't"
The minister called from the land
ing.
Here is my coat" he said. The
cuffs and lower part of the sleeves
are pretty wet. Blythe way, the pack
ct came in tonight They didn't ex-
pect her so soon on account Of the
fog. There was a passenger aboard
whom l think must be that Nathaniel
Hammond you told me Of
Keziah's pen stopped. The wet
coat struck the hall floor with soft
thump. The tick Of the clock sound
ed loud in the room A sheet Of
wind-driven rain dashed the windows.
Did you hear?" called the minister.
Il said that Nathaniel Hammond,
Captain Eben's son, came on the pack
ct. 1 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
put into the kitchen, where she hung
It on the clotheshorse by the cook
stove. After while she returned to
The table and took up the pen. Her
face in the lamplight looked more
tired and grave than ever