Keziah Coffin was, perhaps, the one person most disturbed by her parson's heroism. She would have gone to the shanty immediately had not Dr. Parker prevented. Even as it was, she did go as far as the ropes, but there she was warded off by Ebenezer until Ellery came running out and bade her come no nearer.
“But you shan't stay here, Mr. Ellery,” vowed Keziah. “Or, if you do, I'll stay, too. I ain't afraid of smallpox.”
“I am,” confessed the minister, “and I'm not going to let anyone I care for expose themselves to it unnecessarily. If you try to come in here I shall”—he smiled—“well, Capen and I will put you off the premises by force. There!”
Keziah smiled, too, in spite of herself. “Maybe you'd have your hands full,” she said. “O John, what in the world made you do this thing? It's dreadful. I shan't sleep a wink, thinkin' of you. I just must come here and help.”
“No, you mustn't. You can come as far as the—the dead line once in a while, if Captain Mayo will drive you over, but that's all. I'm all right. Don't worry about me. I'm feeling tiptop and I'm not going to be sick. Now go home and make me some of that—some of those puddings of yours. We can use them to advantage, can't we, Capen?”
“Bet yer!” replied Ebenezer with enthusiasm. Keziah, after more expostulation, went back to the parsonage, where the puddings were made and seasoned with tears and fervent prayers. She wrote to Grace and told her the news of the San Jose, but she said nothing of the minister's part in it. “Poor thing!” sighed Keziah, “she's bearin' enough already. Her back ain't as strong as mine, maybe, and mine's most crackin'. Well, let it crack for good and all; I don't know but that's the easiest way out.”
The sick sailor grew no better. Days and nights passed and he raved and moaned or lay in a stupor. Ebenezer acted as day nurse while Ellery slept, and, at night, the minister, being younger, went on watch. The doctor came frequently, but said there was no hope. A question of time only, and a short time, he said.
Capen occupied his mind with speculations concerning the patient.
“Do you know, parson,” he said, “seem's if I'd seen the feller somewheres afore. 'Course I never have, but when I used to go whalin' v'yages I cruised from one end of creation to t'other, pretty nigh, and I MIGHT have met him. However, his own folks wouldn't know him now, would they? so I cal'late I'm just gettin' foolish in my old age. Said his name's Murphy, them ha'f-breeds did, didn't they? I know better'n that.”
“How do you know?” asked Ellery, idly listening.