“DEAR JOHN:
“I am going away, as I told you I would if he came. He is coming. Tuesday I got a letter from him. It was written at Kingston, Jamaica, almost three months ago. I can't think why I haven't got it sooner, but suppose it was given to some one to mail and forgotten. In it he said he was tired of going to sea and was coming home to me. I had money, he said, and we could get along. He had shipped aboard a brig bound for Savannah, and from there he was going to try for a berth on a Boston-bound vessel. So I am going away and not coming back. I could not stand the disgrace and I could not see him. You and Grace won't need me any more now. Don't worry about me. I can always earn a living while I have my strength. Please don't worry. If he comes tell him I have gone you do not know where. That will be true, for you don't. I hope you will be very happy. I do hope so. Oh, John, you don't know how I hate to do this, but I must. Don't tell Nat. He would do something terrible to him if he came, and Nat knew. Just say I have been called away and may be back some time. Perhaps I may. Love to you all. Good-by.
“Yours truly,
“KEZIAH COFFIN.”
The captain stared at the note. Then he threw it to the floor and started for the door. The minister sprang from his chair and called to him.
“Nat,” he cried. “Nat! Stop! where are you going?”
Hammond turned.
“Goin'?” he growled. “Goin'? I'm goin' to find her, first of all. Then I'm comin' back to wait for him.”
“But you won't have to wait. He'll never come. He's dead.”
“Dead? DEAD? By the everlastin'! this has been too much for you, I ought to have known it. I'll send the doctor here right off. I can't stay myself. I've got to go. But—”