“Sure and sartin', Prince, of course. I knew 'twas connected with the royal family. Well, Mr. Prince, I'm afraid even you can't help me nor him out this time. I'm lookin' up a friend of mine, a widow lady from down the Cape. She's a relation of Mr. Stone's, and she's come to Boston durin' the last day or so. I thought likely he might know where she was, that's all. That would be a little out of your latitude, hey?” “I don't know. Her name wasn't Coffin, was it?” Captain Nat started. “It certainly was,” he answered eagerly. “How'd you know that?” Mr. Prince's complacence was superb. “Oh,” he answered with condescension, “Mr. Stone trusts me with a good many of his personal affairs.” “I should think likely he would. But about Mrs. Coffin? You was goin' to say?” “She is with James Hallett & Co., the tailors, on Washington Street. Mr. Stone found a place for her there, I believe. I--er--er--superintended the carrying of her valise and--What?” “Nothin', nothin'. Hum! Hallett & Co., tailors? What number Washin'ton Street did you say?” Mr. Prince gave the number. “Thank you a lot,” said Captain Nat, with fervor. “Good-by, Mr. Prince. Hope the next time I come you'll be in the firm. Good day, sir.” “Good day. Nothing else I can do? And you won't wait for Mr. Stone? Very good. Is there any message for him that you would like to leave?” “Hey?” Nat had started to go, but now he paused and turned. There was a grim twinkle in his eye. “Message?” he repeated. “Why, ye-es, I don't know but there is. You just give Mr. Stone Cap'n Hammond's compliments and tell him I'm lookin' forward to interviewin' him some time. Just tell him that, will you?” “I'll tell him. Glad to have met you, Captain Hammond.” The captain nodded solemnly. “Say, Mr. King,” he said, “you ain't half so glad as I am.” Mr. Prince strutted into the store. “Who was that chap you were talking with?” asked a fellow-clerk. “Oh, a hayseed who wanted to see the old man. Poor relation, I guess. I headed him off. Stone is always telling us that time is money, so I saved both of 'em for him. He ought to thank me. Wouldn't be surprised if I got the raise I've been asking for.” Mr. Prince did not get the raise, nor the thanks. But he was surprised. In the workshop of Hallett & Co., Keziah sat sewing busily. The window near her was closed, stuck fast, and through the dingy panes she could see only roofs and chimneys. The other women and girls near her chatted and laughed, but she was silent. She did not feel like talking, certainly not like laughing. The garment she was at work on was a coat, a wedding coat, so the foreman had told her, with a smile; therefore she must be very particular.