The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1913-03-22
prised enough to see her. I tell you.

prised enough to see her. I tell you.
Way up there at the Narrows, I
couldn't have said a word, anyway,
and she never gave me a chance.
Nat she says, don't talk now. Come
with me, quick afore the train starts
I've come here on purpose to meet
you. l must talk with you: it's i'm
portant. You can go to Trumet on
the next train, tonight. But now
must talk with you. I must Won't
you please come Natr
Well, went. The engine bell was
beginnin' to ring and We had to move
lively, tell you. l swung her OF the
step just as the car begun TO move.
So into the waitin' room we went and
come to anchor on the settee. And
then, John. we had our talk Seems
she left Trumet Wednesday afternoon.
Got the livery stable man to drive her
as fur as Bayport, hired another team
there and come on to Sandwich. Stay
ed overnight there and took the morn
in train which got to Cohasset Mar
rows just ahead Of the one I was
comm on. Shed been so fraid of be
in late, she said. She must see me
afore got to Trumet.
Well, she saw me and told me the
whole yarn about you and Grace. She
tried to break It to me gently, so
wouldn't feel too bad. She knew II
would be a shock to me. she said. II
was a shock, In a way. but as for
feelin' bad, didn't. think the world
of Grace. I'd do anything she wanted
me to do; but most the way down on
the train-yes, and long afore that
I'd been dreadin' my comm home on
one account. l dreaded tellin' her
that, unless she was real set on 1t,
| she'd better not marry me-"
NAT, l want to tell you something.
Something that only one other per
son knows. Grace doesn't know it
yet. Neither does Aunt Keziah-the
whole of It. And II she knew I told
you even part I'm afraid she would.
as she would say, skin me alive
But I owe her-and you-more than
| could repay II lived a thousand
years. So I'm going to tell and take
the consequences.
Nat, when-that morning after
your father died and after you and
| Grace had agreed toto"
ITO do somethin' neither Of Us
wanted to do! Yes, l 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 pity
ingly and I made a fool OF myself,
expect; refused to believe her, be-
haved disgracefully, and at last, when
l had to believe II, threatened TO run
away and leave my work and Trumet
forever. like coward She made me
stay"
Did, hey!
Yes. She showed me It was my
duty to face the music. When
whimpered about my troubles she
told me her own story. Then l
learned what trouble was and what
PAoSh Woc, wv Shc NOAu NC dbOuS
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 good thing"
Il know. She told you that that
| darn scamp Anse CONN was alive"
The minister started violently. He
| gasped In surprise
You knew It? You knew it?" he
stammered.
It know 1t now. Have known 1t for
| over q year. My fndin' 1t out was
one of the special Providences that's
been helpin' along this last voyage of
mine. My second mate was a Hyan-