a high dawn—one presaging storm—found the castaways standing beside the signal fire which swiftly smoldered into the ashes of hopelessness. the swell had increased during the morning hours. the hill now afforded a footing unsteadier than a laboring ship's deck. the breeze of the night continued light and steady.
with the first glimmer of day lavelle went searching the sea. his gaze swung the horizon again and again, following the withdrawing mantle of night only to confront the old bitter emptiness of all the days that had gone before.
lavelle's eyes kept seeking the distance, but emily's, untrained, sought the sea at hand. so it was that her sight was the first to discover a sail barely two miles away to the south and west.
at the discovery her throat closed. she could not speak. she stood breathless, half in trance. lavelle, turned to the eastward, felt her clutch his arm. he sent a glance whither she dumbly pointed.
"a sail!" he cried. "saved! this means life, you brave, brave soul!"
he seized her by the arms and shook her as a boy meeting a boy playmate might have done. her whole being thrilled at his touch. a glorious light of love came into her countenance, but he saw it not.
as he spoke to her he dropped her arms and his glance sprang away to find the sail again. fixing it, lavelle could not control his amazement. emily saw a great seriousness succeed the expression of delight in his face and manner. a chill touched her new-born hope.
"what do you see, captain? what is it?"
"i don't know what to tell you. i am not sure yet. still there is something strange——"
"why, that ship——it is moving sideways!" she cried. "it is not sailing!"
lavelle, indeed, was puzzled. the strange sail was an iron or steel bark of perhaps twelve hundred tons, hove to on the port tack. her forecourse and foretopsails were set. the foretopgallantsail hung in its clewlines and buntlines. the maintopgallantsail and topsails were set and laid full aback against the mast. the main course was clewed up. the peak of the spanker had been let go and the gaff was flailing from side to side. she carried two skysails. these and the royals were furled. all of the headsails, with the exception of the foretopmast-staysail, were down and trailing away from the bowsprit and jibboom. none of the other staysails was set. she was laden and laboring hard. it seemed that the swell must roll the sticks out of her.
from the height at which they stood lavelle and emily could see her lie down with every heave of the sea and put her lee rail under.
now, for a second, rolling deeper than she had before, lavelle, from a new angle, confirmed what he had suspected from the beginning. her wheel was deserted! her decks were lifeless! she was in charge of herself!
the bark was rapidly drifting closer. another fifteen minutes, lavelle figured, would carry her by the island half a mile to the southward. it was a moment for quick decision. emily read his purpose to swim to the bark.
"god alone knows, emily, what mystery confronts us. but our only chance of life lies out there. it may be another trap, comrade, but we must hope. i feel that, for your sake, i must——"
"for our sakes," she interrupted him, but he did not seem to hear her. he was bending over, removing his shoes.
"i'll win back to you—i'll come for you if it be in——"
"it will not be in death, but in life."
startled, eagerly he beheld the love-light in her eyes, only to turn quickly away. his heart throbbed as if it must burst. his tortured soul moaned in its yearning and passion to crush her to his breast. in the face of death he would have claimed her at this sign; gone out with his lips pressed to hers. in the face of life—the promise of living which the bark held forth—he, the pariah, said no to his desire.
his face was masked and cold as he turned toward her again, and the gold woman bent her head for shame. he broke out the boat mast and, carrying it over his shoulder, he held out his hand and led her swiftly down the hill. his hand was very cold. he set her a lookout point at the foot of the hill.
"wait here," he said in a voice which sounded unlike him. "at no second lose sight of the bark. be on your guard. if anything should happen to the island cling to this mast. it will keep you up. i'll come for you—i'll pick you up."
his gray eyes were glistening with suppressed emotion.
"and if—if," she said, "this should be good-by—and we should not meet again——"
she drew his head down and kissed him full upon the lips.
without a word he ran across the meadow to the sea.
emily watched him as he dropped off the swaying land and struck out powerfully toward the bark now head on to the southern shore. for a moment her heart grew still with misgiving. then, it thrilled with a joyous impulse. she hurried across the meadow. as she went she removed her long cloak and the golfing jacket. at the shore she stopped and tore the bandages from her feet. looking seaward she saw where lavelle swam. dropping her skirt quickly she stood for a second in the long white night robe in which she had escaped the cambodia. inhaling a long, deep breath she plunged overboard fearlessly.
lavelle, looking backward, missed emily. his spirit slumped. he paused his stroke, fearful for her safety.
the sun at that moment burnished the crest of a wave behind him. a white arm clove its mane of foam and his heart leaped to behold the gold woman following in his wake.
