The men and women without a word rushed into the house. They too knew
the danger, and the only hope there was for a life. The assurance of the
Countess took the sting from the present loss. Before the minute, which
she timed watch in hand, was over, all came forth bearing armloads of
their lares and penates. Then one of the younger men ran in again and
out bearing a flaming stick from the fire. Stephen nodded, he held it to
the northern edge of the thatch. The straw caught in a flash and the
flame ran up the slope and along the edge of the roof like a quick match.
The squeaking of many rats was heard and their brown bodies streamed over
the roof. Before another minute had passed a great mass of flame towered
into the sky and shed a red light far out over the waste of sea.
It lit up the wilderness of white water where the sea churned savagely
amongst the sunken rocks; and it lit too the white face of a swimmer, now
nearly spent, who rising and falling with each wave, drifted in the sea
whose current bore him on towards the fatal rocks.
CHAPTER XXXII--'TO BE GOD AND ABLE TO DO THINGS'
When the swimmer saw the light he looked up; even at the distance they
could see the lift of his face; but he did not seem to realise that there
was any intention in the lighting, or that it was created for his
benefit. He was manifestly spent with his tremendous exertions, and with
his long heavy swim in the turbulent sea. Stephen's heart went out to
him in a wave of infinite pity. She tried to use the trumpet. But
simple as it is, a trumpet needs skill or at least practice in its use;
she could only make an unintelligible sound, and not much even of that.
One of the young men said:
'Let me try it, my lady!' She handed him the trumpet and he in turn used
with a will. But it was of no avail; even his strong lungs and lusty
manhood availed nothing in the teeth of that furious gale. The roof and
the whole house was now well alight, and the flame roared and leapt.
Stephen began to make gestures bidding the swimmer, in case he might see
her and understand, move round the rocks. But he made no change in his
direction, and was fast approaching a point in the tide-race whence to
avoid the sunken rocks would be an impossibility. The old whaler,
accustomed to use all his wits in times of difficulty, said suddenly:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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