American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"I--let me see! where was I? Oh, yes! Well, I saw the woman, and when
I turned to call the attention of the first mate to this fact, I knew
instantly, by some strange instinct, that he had seen and heard her,
too. So, from that moment to the conclusion of our little drama, we
were silent, but enforced spectators.
"She swam gracefully--silently! I remember noticing through that odd,
half-weird, phosphorescent light which broke over her shoulders as she
rose and fell with each quiet stroke of her splendidly rounded arms,
that she was a mature, perfectly-formed woman. I remember, also, that
when she reached the boat, and, supporting herself with one small hand
on the gunwale, she softly called the mate in a whisper by his
Christian name, I had a boyish idea that she was--the--er--er--female
of his species--his--er--natural wife! I'm boring you--am I not?"
Two or three heads shook violently and negatively. The youngest, and,
I regret to say, the OLDEST, Miss Jones uttered together
sympathetically, "Go on--please; do!"
"The--woman told him in a few rapid words that he had been betrayed;
that the two men sent ashore were now in the hands of the authorities;
that a force was being organized to capture the vessel; that instant
flight was necessary, and that the betrayer and traitor was--my friend,
the Portuguese, Fernandez!
"The mate raised the dripping, little brown hand to his lips, and
whispered some undistinguishable words in her ear. I remember seeing
her turn a look of ineffable love and happiness upon his grim, set
face, and then she was gone. She dove as a duck dives, and I saw her
shapely head, after a moment's suspense, reappear a cable's length away
toward the shore.
"I ventured to raise my eyes to the mate's face; it was cold and
impassive. I turned my face toward the crew; they were conversing in
whispers with each other, with their faces toward us, yet apparently
utterly oblivious of the scene that had just taken place in the stern.
There was a moment of silence, and then the mate's voice came out quite
impassively, but distinctly:--
"'Fernandez!'
"'Aye, aye, sir!'
"'Come aft and--bring your oar with you.'
"He did so, stumbling over the men, who, engaged in their whispered
yarns, didn't seem to notice him.
"'See if you can find soundings here.'
"Fernandez leaned over the stern and dropped his oar to its shaft in
the phosphorescent water. But he touched no bottom; the current
brought the oar at right angles presently to the surface.
"'Send it down, man,' said the mate, imperatively; 'down, down. Reach
over there. What are you afraid of? So; steady there; I'll hold you.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account