Captain Pott's Minister Part 20

"Do you think He'll send him back to me?"

"He is here now. He has never left you."

Miss Pipkin looked dazed, then puzzled, and finally provoked. "I didn't think you'd trifle, or I'd never told you."

"Indeed, I'm not trifling."

"Then, what happened last night has gone to your head, poor thing! I'd ought to have known better than to have troubled you with my sorrows.

You've got all you ought to carry. Poor thing!"

She slowly pushed her chair from the table, eyeing the minister as though expecting signs of an outbreak. But he motioned her back into her chair with a calmness that rea.s.sured her.

"I don't quite understand your meaning, I guess," she said.

"And it is quite apparent that I didn't understand yours. You were speaking of the Spirit of G.o.d leaving you, and I said He was right here with you----"

"Now, ain't I a caution to saints!" broke in Miss Pipkin. "I did mix you up awful, didn't I? What I was asking you about was if you thought G.o.d would send back my Adoniah Phillips. He----Why, Mr. McGowan, what's the matter now?"

The minister had risen and was looking oddly at the housekeeper.

"What on earth have I said this time?" she implored.

"You say your lover's name was Phillips, Adoniah Phillips?"

Miss Pipkin did not reply, but looked at him fixedly.

"Please, don't look at me like that, it makes me feel like I've been guilty of something," he said, trying hard to smile.

"You sure you ain't sick?"

"Of course, I'm not ill. I'm slightly interested in that peculiar name.

I've heard it just once before, and I'm wondering if there is a chance of its being the same man."

"You've heard of him?"

"Well, I have heard his name."

"There ain't likely to be another name like his."

"Have you any idea where he is at present? You said a bit ago that you did not think he had been drowned at sea."

"No," she answered curtly.

"Can you so much as guess?"

"I don't know if he's living at all, so of course I ain't got no idea where he is," was her snappy reply. "Has he been telling you about me and him?" she asked, nodding toward the up-stairs where the Captain was presumably asleep.

"He hasn't said anything to me, but----"

"You'll promise not to repeat one word to him of what I just told you?"

she begged, again jerking her head toward the stair.

"I promise to say nothing about what you have told me. But I have my reasons for wanting to know something about this man Phillips."

"What are your reasons?"

"I should not have said reasons, for I guess it is nothing but my curiosity that prompts me to ask. If you could tell me more of the facts I might be able to help you locate him."

"You mean you have an idea that he is still living?"

"I can't say as to that, but if you'll only help me I am certain that we shall find out something interesting."

Miss Pipkin drew the corner of her ap.r.o.n across the corner of her eyes, disappointment written deeply in every line and wrinkle of her face.

"There ain't much more to tell. Adoniah went to sea. I got a letter from him once from Australia. I wrote back saying I'd take back what I'd said. He answered it, but didn't say nothing about what I said to him.

He spoke of meeting up with some one he knew, saying they was going in business together. I ain't never told anybody about that, not even Josiah, and I ain't going to tell you, for I don't think he was square with Adoniah, but I can't prove it."

The thud of heavy boots on the rear stair checked further comment she seemed inclined to make, and she dried out the tears that stood in her eyes with short quick dabs as she hurried to the kitchen.

"Lan' of mercy!" she exclaimed, returning with a smoking waffle-iron. "I clean forgot these, and they're burned to ashes. Here, don't you drink that cold coffee, I'll heat it up again," she said, taking the cup.

Leaning closely to his ear, she whispered, "Mind, you ain't to tell a living soul about what I said, and him above all others."

The minister nodded.

Miss Pipkin entered the kitchen just as the Captain opened the stair-door. He sniffed the air as he greeted the two with a hearty "Good morning."

"Purty nigh never woke up. You'd otter have come up and tumbled me out, Mack."

"Rest well, did you?"

"Just tolerable. Clemmie," he called, "I seem to smell something burning. There ain't nothing, be there?"

"We was busy talking, and them irons got too hot."

"Talking, be you? Don't 'pear to have agreed with neither of you more than it did with those irons."

"You didn't pa.s.s a mirror on the way down this morning, or you'd not be crowing so loud, Josiah."

"No, that's a fact I didn't. You see, Eadie busted mine during that cleaning raid, and I can't afford a new one."

"You must have hit your funny-bone, or something," hinted Miss Pipkin as she poured a cup of the reheated coffee.

"Now, don't get mad, Clemmie. I was just fooling. Mack understands me purty well, and he'll tell you that I didn't mean nothing by what I said."

"Josiah Pott! You're that disrespectful that I've a good mind to scold you."

"What's up now, Clemmie?"