an it. Why, you and me have been picked out for each other by
the Almighty, Keziah. I swear I believe just that. We went together when
we were boy and girl, to parties and such. We was promised when I first
went to sea. If it hadn't been for that fool row we had--and 'twas all
my fault and I know it--you never would have let that da--that miserable
Anse Coffin come near you. And when 'twas too late and you'd married
him, the mean, drunken, cruel--"

"Hush, Nat! hush! Stop it!"

"He was, and you know he was. Yes, and worse besides. Runnin' off and
leavin' a wife like you to--Oh, my God! when I think I might have been
your husband to look out for you and take care of you! That you
might have been with me on board my ships. That, when I come down the
companion on stormy nights I might have found you there to comfort me
and--O Keziah! we aren't young any more. What's the use of foolin'? I
want you. I'm goin' to have you. Coffin is dead these ten years. When I
heard he was drowned off there in Singapore, all I could say was: 'Serve
him right!' And I say it now. I come home then more determined to get
you. Say yes, and let's be happy. Do!"

"I can't, Nat."

"Why not? For Heaven sakes! why not? Don't you care for me? You've let
me think--well, at any rate, I have thought you did. You used to. Don't
you?"

"Nat, I--I care for you more than anybody else on earth. But I can't
marry you. Oh, don't keep askin' it! Please don't. I can't marry you,
Nat. No!"

"Well, not now, maybe. Not this month, or even this year, perhaps, but
some day--"

"No, Nat. You must listen. There's no use of this goin' on any longer. I
mean it. I can't marry you."

"You won't, you mean."

"Well, if you wish to think so. Then I won't."

"But by and by--"

"No, not by and by. Never, Nat. Never."

He drew his hand across his forehead.

"Never!" he repeated, more to himself than to her.

"Never. Yes, Nat."

"Then, by the everlastin'! I'll do somethin'--"

"No, no, you won't. Nat Hammond, I know you. You're a great big,
brave-hearted, sensible man. You won't be foolish. You'll do--yes, I
think you'd better do just what your father asks you to do. Marry Grace,
if she wants you and will have you. She'll make you a good wife; you'll
learn to care for her, and I know she'll have the best husband that a
girl could hope for. And you and I will be friends, just as we've always
been, and--"

"Keziah, stop that! Stop it, do you hear! I don't want