ht. 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.

"'Cause when he's floppin' round on the bed, out of his head, he sings
out all kinds of stuff. A good deal of it's plain cussin', but there's
times when he talks respectable and once I heard him say 'darn' and
another time 'I cal'late.' Now no Irishman says THAT. That's Yankee,
that is."

"Well, he ought to know his own name."

"Prob'ly he does--or used to--but 'most likely he don't want nobody else
to know it. That's why he said 'twas Murphy and, bein' as he DID say it,
I know 'tain't it. See my argument, don't you, Mr. Ellery?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"Um--hm! Why, land sakes, names don't mean nothin' with seafarin' men.
I've seen the time when I had more names--Humph! Looks kind of squally
off to the east'ard, don't it?"

That night the sick man was much worse. His ravings were incessant. The
minister, sitting in his chair in the living room, by the cook stove,
could hear the steady str