l, so long."

They shook hands and parted.

Didama and her fellow news-venders distributed the tale of Captain Nat's
sailing broadcast during the next few days. There was much wonderment
at the delayed marriage, but the general verdict was that Captain Eben's
recent death and the proper respect due to it furnished sufficient
excuse. Hannah Poundberry, delighted at being so close to the center of
interest, talked and talked, and thus Grace was spared the interviews
which would have been a trouble to her. Nat left town, via the packet,
on the following Wednesday. Within another week came the news that his
ship, the Sea Mist, had sailed from New York, bound for Manila. Her
topsails sank beneath the horizon, and she vanished upon the wild waste
of tumbling waves and out of Trumet's knowledge, as many another vessel,
manned and officered by Cape Cod men, had done. The village talked of
her and her commander for a few days and then forgot them both. Only at
the old home by the landing and at the parsonage were they remembered.

CHAPTER XV

IN WHICH TRUMET TALKS OF CAPTAIN NAT

Summer was over, autumn came, passed, and it was winter--John Ellery's
first winter in Trumet. Fish weirs were taken up, the bay filled with
ice, the packet ceased to run, and the village settled down to hibernate
until spring. The stage came through on its regular trips, except when
snow or slush rendered the roads impassable, but passengers were very
few. Occasionally there were northeast gales, with shrieking winds,
driving gusts of sleet and hail and a surf along the ocean side that
bellowed and roared and tore the sandy beach into new shapes, washing
away shoals and building others, blocking the mouth of the little inlet
where the fish boats anchored and opening a new channel a hundred yards
farther down. Twice there were wrecks, one of a fishing schooner, the
crew of which were fortunate enough to escape by taking to the dories,
and another, a British bark, which struck on the farthest bar and
was beaten to pieces by the great waves, while the townspeople stood
helplessly watching from the shore, for launching a boat in that surf
was impossible.

The minister was one of those who watched. News of the disaster had been
brought to the village by the lightkeeper's assistant, and Ellery and
most of the able-bodied men in town had tramped the three miles to the
beach, facing the screaming wind and the cutting blasts of flying sand.
As they c