Who are you?demanded the man again.Then,with an oath,he repeated the question,adding:What place is this?This ain't the fo'castle.Where am I?You're ashore.You've been sick.Don't try to move.Sick?Humph!Sick?'Course I been sick.Don't I know it?The d--n cowards run off and left me;blast their eyes!I'll fix 'em for it one of these days,you hear--Sshh!
Hush up yourself.Where am I?
You're ashore.On Cape Cod.At Trumet.
Trumet!TRUMET!
He was struggling to raise himself on his elbow.Ellery was obliged to use force to hold him down.
Hush!hush!pleaded the minister,you mustn't try to--Trumet!I ain't.You're lyin'.Trumet!Good God!Who brought me here?Did she--Is she--He struggled again.Then his strength and his reason left him simultaneously and the delirium returned.He began to shout a name,a name that caused Ellery to stand upright and step back from the bed,scarcely believing his ears.
All the rest of that night the man on the bed raved and muttered,but of people and places and happenings which he had not mentioned before.And the minister,listening intently to every word,caught himself wondering if he also was not losing his mind.
When the morning came,Ebenezer Capen was awakened by a shake to find John Ellery standing over him.
Capen,whispered the minister,Capen,get up.I must talk with you.Ebenezer was indignant.
Judas priest!he exclaimed;why don't you scare a feller to death,comin'and yankin'him out of bed by the back hair?Then,being more wide awake,he added:What's the row?Worse,is he?
He ain't--
No.But I've got to talk with you.You used to be a whaler,Iknow.Were you acquainted in New Bedford?
Sartin.Was a time when I could have located every stick in it,pretty nigh,by the smell,if you'd set me down side of 'em blindfold.Did you ever know anyone named--He finished the sentence.
Sure and sartin,I did.Why?
Did you know him well?
Well's I wanted to.Pretty decent feller one time,but a fast goer,and went downhill like a young one's sled,when he got started.His folks had money,that was the trouble with him.Why,'course I knew him!He married--I know.Now,listen.
Ellery went on talking rapidly and with great earnestness.
Ebenezer listened,at first silently,then breaking in with ejaculations and grunts of astonishment.He sat up on the edge of the bed.
Rubbish!he cried at last.why,'tain't possible!The feller's dead as Methusalem's grandmarm.I remember how it happened and--It wasn't true.That much I know.I KNOW,I tell you.He went on to explain why he knew.Capen's astonishment grew.
Judas priest!he exclaimed again.That would explain why Ithought I'd seen--There!heave ahead.I've got to see.But it's a mistake.I don't believe it.The pair entered the sick room.The sailor lay in a stupor.His breathing was rapid,but faint.Capen bent over him and gently moved the bandage on his face.For a full minute he gazed steadily.Then he stood erect,drew a big red hand across his forehead,and moved slowly back to the living room.
Well?asked Ellery eagerly.
Ebenezer sat down in the rocker.Judas priest!he said for the third time.Don't talk to ME!When it comes my time they'll have to prove I'm dead.I won't believe it till they do.Ju-das PRIEST!Then you recognize him?
The old man nodded solemnly.
Yup,he said,it's him.Mr.Ellery,what are you goin'to do about it?I don't know.I don't know.I must go somewhere by myself and think.I don't know WHAT to do.The minister declined to wait for breakfast.He said he was not hungry.Leaving Ebenezer to put on the coffeepot and take up his duties as day nurse,Ellery walked off along the beach.The dead lineprevented his going very far,but he sat down in the lee of a high dune and thought until his head ached.What should he do?
What was best for him to do?
He heard the rattle of the doctor's chaise and the voices of Ebenezer and Parker in conversation.He did not move,but remained where he was,thinking,thinking.By and by he heard Capen calling his name.
Mr.Ellery!shouted Ebenezer.Mr.Ellery,where be you?Here!replied the minister.
The old man came scrambling over the sand.He was panting and much excited.
Mr.Ellery!he cried,Mr.Ellery!it's settled for us--one part of it,anyhow.He's slipped his cable.What?The minister sprang up.
Yup.He must have died just a little while after you left and after I gave him his medicine.I thought he looked kind of queer then.And when the doctor came we went in together and he was dead.Yes,sir,dead.Dead!
Um--hm.No doubt of it;it's for good this time.Mr.Ellery,what shall we do?Shall I tell Dr.Parker?Ellery considered for a moment.No,he said slowly.No,Capen,don't tell anyone.I can't see why they need ever know that he hasn't been dead for years,as they supposed.Promise me to keep it a secret.I'll tell--her--myself,later on.Now promise me;Itrust you.
Land sakes,yes!I'll promise,if you want me to.I'm a widower man,so there'll be nobody to coax it out of me.I guess you're right,cal'late you be.What folks don't know they can't lie about,can they?and that's good for your business--meanin'nothin'
disreverent.I'll promise,Mr.Ellery;I'll swear to it.Now come on back to the shanty.The doctor wants you.The next day the body of Murphy,foremast hand on the San Jose,was buried in the corner of the Regular graveyard,near those who were drowned in the wreck of that winter.There was no funeral,of course.The minister said a prayer at the shanty,and that was all.Ebenezer drove the wagon which was used as hearse for the occasion,and filled in the grave himself.So great was the fear of the terrible smallpox that the sexton would not perform even that service for its victim.
