Historical fiction; Love stories; Philadelphia (Pa.) -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction; Sea stories
"The drifting water took the hulk, weighted as it was," said Tom Horn;
"with her forecastle down and her forward hatch almost under, the great
circle took her and carried her away; and so the villains lost all
track of her, and I drifted into the lonely sea. The sun shone through
a haze," said the clerk; "its color was russet and streaked with white;
so still was the air I saw spirals of mist, like ropes, lowered from
the sky. On every side the sea was like a grassy field; I saw planks
and spars lying on what seemed solid ground; great birds sat and
watched me as though waiting for the time when I should die. There was
a ghastly kind of vegetation: pallid, slimy plants,--bloodless,--like
things that had grown in the dark; they were horrible to see and more
horrible to touch. And," said Tom Horn, "a monstrous life stirred
beneath the green scum of the sea. Since time began, God's hand has
been turned to many dreadful tasks; but He has hidden them from most
men's eyes."
"We will grant," said the girl, "that a ship, circumstanced as you
believe the _Rufus Stevens_ was at the end of the storm, must have
fallen into the grasp of the great current and so came, or will come,
to the Grassy Sea. But before going so far we must assure ourselves she
remained afloat."
"Any one who watched her building," said Tom Horn, "must have seen she
was a strong vessel. Siddons is an honest man; he never slights a task;
he does honest, sound work. Live-oak is tough; hammered iron does not
give readily; the ship was new, and, though the masts were out of her
when Frisbee saw her, the decks were sound and the hatches fast down. I
questioned him about that, and he was quite sure. The ship was like a
cask," said Tom Horn. "The sea could not harm her, there being nothing
to dash her against. Mark me! she is adrift at this moment in the
slimy grass of that silent place; and her cargo is as dry and safe as
it would be if it were in a merchant's storehouse."
Mademoiselle's hands trembled, but her voice was steady as she said:
"Would it be possible to find this strange ocean backwater? Could
you--could any one--take a ship into it?"
"South of the Azores," said Tom Horn, "northwest of the Cape Verdes,
and west of the Canaries." He nodded his head. "I could find my way
back to it," said he. "Through all the vast spaces of the sea I could
find my way back there, for it is so fixed in my mind that the very sky
above it would be known to me if I once lifted it to the horizon-line."
"Anthony Stevens!" said mademoiselle to Christopher. "He must be told!"
"But his health!" protested the little apothecary.
"This will be health to him," said the girl. "This news would put life
in him if he stood on the verge of the grave."
"Very well. He shall be told," said Christopher. "He shall be told, and
at once."
XXXVII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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