Adventure stories; Love stories; Treasure troves -- Fiction
"Oh, you know," he answered, hardly knowing how to proceed. He was
doing his best to catch her eye but could not.
He raised up and caught her by the forearm, but he was too weak to hold
her and she drew herself gently away.
"I told Mr. Parmalee that he must not excite you, and now I'm acting
just as badly," she said. "You must rest or you'll never get well."
"Oh, I'm bound to get well now!" he declared. At that moment Tyke
Grimshaw's face appeared at the doorway.
"How are you making it, Allen?" he questioned.
"First rate," was the answer. The young man was rather put out over
the interruption, yet he could not help but remember what Grimshaw had
done for him and he gave the old man a warm look of gratitude.
"We're going to have some rough sailing for a little while," announced
Grimshaw. "We're going to sail through that there gap in the reef--if
it can be done."
From a distance they could hear the voice of Mr. Rogers giving orders.
And the stamp of the seamen's feet announced that the _Bertha Hamilton_
was getting under way. Short-handed as she was, never did sailors
swing into the ancient chantey in better tune and with more
cheerfulness.
"Oh, haul the bowline, Katy is my darling,
Oh, haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!
"Oh, haul the bowline, London girls are towing,
Oh, haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!
"Oh, haul the bowline, the packet is a-rolling,
Oh, haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!"
With anchor apeak, topsails jerked aloft and flattened, the schooner
took the wind. Although the earthquake had subsided, the waters both
inside the reef and outside were much troubled. Where the two jaws of
the rocky barrier still remained, the waves pounded and foamed
furiously.
Would they be able to get out safely? That was the question in the
mind of every man who trod the deck of the schooner. Soundings had
been made, and they had learned that the lane to safety was both narrow
and winding.
"If we hit, it will be all up with us," said one of the tars to his
mates.
"We got ter take a chance," was the answer. "Keelhaul me, if I want to
stay at this island any longer!"
Closer and closer to the jaws of the reef sped the _Bertha Hamilton_.
Then up and down like a cork danced the schooner. For one brief
instant as she plunged through the waves and the foam, scattering the
flying spray in all directions, it looked as if nature might force her
upon the rocks, there to be battered into a shapeless hulk. But then,
as if by a miracle, she righted herself, answered her helm, and shot
through the miraculously opened lane into the blue waters of the ocean
beyond.
They were homeward bound.
A week later as the schooner was running up the Florida coast, Drew,
who had gained strength magically after his enlightening interview with
Parmalee, was standing with Ruth near the rail. Dusk was coming on,
and a crescent moon was already showing its horns in the sky, still
touched by the sun's aftermath.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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