weary was my journey. there were rivers to ford, deep forests to traverse, and often only indian paths to make my way along. i passed through towns and villages, eating and sleeping wherever i could. once in the night i saw the watch fires of an indian camp, and i hid deeper in the woods. the next morning the red men passed, not a rifle shot from me, yet they did not discover my presence.
day followed day, and night came after night, and still i rode on.
in a small town near the coast one day i heard that the eagle had tied up at the wharf there, about two weeks past. this gave me hope that i was on the right path, and i pushed on anxiously. but to all my inquiries thereafter i learned nothing further.
kit began to grow tired those days, for, though i spared her all i could, the way was hard. through the wilderness and along the sea we journeyed, kit and i, searching, ever searching for that which might, when found, only bring bitterness to my heart.
205my eyes grew tired with the sight of so much land and water, yet i could not give up. my body was weary with the long way. my heart was sad; aye, sad with love and hate.
i passed over a river called the hudson, being ferried across it, kit and i. just below, the ferryman told me, was the village of new york. when i was on the west bank of the stream, i could see from the top of the bluff that the town was one of goodly size, larger than many villages in england.
i left new york behind, and plunged once more into the wilderness. now, i was told, i was but three days’ ride from elizabeth, as the roads went, and how my heart beat as i heard that news.
it had been a raw, blustering day, when, as the sun was beginning to sink down in the west, in a gloomy looking watery haze, i turned kit’s head toward the sea that stretched in a vast expanse off to the left. i would scan the coast once more, i thought, ere i camped out for the night.
i had little hope of sighting the eagle now, for, by this time, the voyagers must be far ahead of me. yet i felt i should let slip by no chance of coming upon them. so it happened, as the day was slowly dying i drew rein on top of a little hill, whence i had a good view of the ocean.
i gazed out over the broad extent of water. the heaving billows looked like small waves from my perch, but 206the dull boom and roar that filled the air told me there was power in the green water that thundered down on the sands. twice i looked along the line of the horizon for the sight of a sail, and i saw none. from the shore to the uttermost edge, where the plane of waters seemed to come to a sudden stop, i gazed and saw not a speck.
wait, though. what was that out there to the left?
nothing but a lonely gull, flitting from wave crest to wave crest. i watched it in idleness, expecting every moment to see it dart down and arise with a fish. but the gull seemed content to float on the waves. it rose and fell with the heaving of the waters, becoming larger as it approached until i thought verily it must be the king of all gulls.
then i rubbed my eyes and looked again. a last glint of the setting sun fell upon the object. i shaded my eyes and strained my sight.
of a sudden i saw it was not a gull. it was a boat!
was it the eagle?
the wind freshened, and the little craft crept nearer the shore. it seemed to make slow progress, and floated sluggishly in the water.
now i was able to see more clearly. i noted that the sail was ragged and torn, also that from the mast head floated a bit of cloth like a piece torn from a woman’s dress. a signal of distress!
with anxious, beating heart i waited for the boat to 207draw nearer. it was, perchance, a vain hope, but i could not help thinking the craft contained those i sought. and if it should!
i looked to my gun and saw that my sword was loose in the scabbard, for i would have two to contend with, sir george and simon.
closer came the boat until i could distinguish three figures aboard, and one was a woman, as i could see by her dress. she stood for a moment in front of the companionway leading to the cabin, and then she vanished down it. the other figures were those of two men. they appeared to be much excited about something, moving here and there on the deck, and i was at a loss to account for their actions. now they would be amidships, and then suddenly run to the side when they would empty a bucket of water overboard.
as soon as i saw that i knew the boat was leaking, and that they were baling to keep her afloat. that was why they had headed in shore, for no other cause would have made them approach such a dangerous coast.
the craft was now so near that i could plainly see one man baling while the other ran to the tiller, which was lashed, and cast off the ropes. then he headed the boat up the coast, searching for a favorable place to put in. he saw none, after holding on that course for a time, and so came about and sailed down. long and anxiously did he scan the shore and the line of breakers. so occupied 208was he that he did not seem to see me, though i was in bold relief against the western sky.
twice did the helmsman beat up and down for a quarter of a mile each way. but all along was heavy surf, while at some places black and jagged rocks just showed their ugly heads above the water that washed over them.
the second man had ceased baling now, and came to the aid of the steersman, who had evidently decided to make a landing in the best place he could. the man who had been at the tiller ran to the bow, leaped on the rail, and peered ahead, while his companion kept her prow to the waves. i gave one look at the man in the bow. i trembled lest i should be mistaken. no, it was he.
there, like a carved figurehead on a ship stood my enemy! sir george keith! my journey was ended.
i could have shouted in gladness, was i not fearful that the sea might snatch him from me ere i had my revenge. for the time i forgot the danger that encompassed lucille. my hate had overwhelmed my love.
i dismounted and led kit back into some low bushes that grew on top of the hill. then i went forward quickly to watch the progress of the boat.
sir george was again at the helm. he had made up his mind where to land. and it was near time. the little craft was settling low in the water.
on she came, lifting her bow to the waves, and then dipping deep into the froth of green liquid that hissed on 209either side. nearer and nearer. they were almost in now. and then, while i stood there, watching like a sentinel guarding the land, i saw that which gripped my heart as if an icy hand had grasped it.
directly in the course of the eagle, and so close to her now that avoidance was impossible, was a pinnacle of rock. i had not seen it before, nor had sir george, for he steered for it as if by card and compass.
“’ware the rock!” i cried, and he heard me.
he looked up, and by the shout he gave, i knew he recognized me. he was like one who sees a spirit. he lost his hold of the helm and ran to the stern. but the boat did not fall off. instead she came on like a race horse straight for the rock. the waves lifted her high up, water logged though she was, until she showed part of her keel. then, and i closed my eyes, the waters dashed the frail vessel down on that point of stone, as a man is impaled on a spear. the rock struck right through her bottom.
the crash that followed found echo in my own heart, and the wild shouts of sir george and simon mingled with the screams of lucille coming clear over the thunder of the surf.
it was no time to stand idle. it was a steep path to the beach, but i got down somehow. the boat was still spitted on the rock, but the waters were dashing over it, 210threatening every moment to break it in pieces and toss the occupants into the sea.
i had kept hold of my flint-lock, but now i laid it down on the sand, at the same time casting off my sword belt. as i discarded my jacket and boots, the boat gave a lurch to one side, and i heard lucille scream. i took one look, so i might know in which direction to swim, and i saw the sailor simon as he leaped overboard and struck out for the beach. then i plunged into the surf.
i waded out as far as i had my depth, and i saw simon’s head bobbing up and down. i marked sir george tearing away at some of the deck boards, which had split, and i guessed he was trying to form a raft. lucille, for i saw her face clearly now, was clinging to the mast, her dark hair blowing about her face, while the salt spray dashed over her until she was drenched.
i had found lucille, but in what a sorry plight. she was mine no more. my enemy had won her. all i might have was revenge on him; a poor exchange.
sir george gave one glance in my direction, and then worked with great haste to tear up the planks. perhaps he feared my vengeance would strike him in the waters, though i had other plans. mayhap he grudged me any share in the rescue of lucille, which both of us were striving for now. noting all this in one brief glance i found the water above my head now, so i plunged forward, and was soon swimming amid the breakers.
211it was hard work, indeed, to buffet those waves, and to avoid being cast against the rocks which abounded. how i did it, and came out scathless, i cannot tell. i know i managed to get near enough to the stern of the boat to grasp the rudder chains and pull myself aboard.
slowly, for i was weary, i got over the rail, and found myself on the sloping deck, that every now and again was washed by the waves. before the mast sir george was lashing the planks he had torn up into the form of a rude raft.
“greeting,” i said to him.
he started, as a man might, who hears a voice from the grave.
then i went a little way farther until i stood before lucille.
“edward! oh, my god! edward!” she screamed, and then she fell in a senseless heap at the foot of the mast.
i sprang toward her, as did sir george, dropping the planks. we were at her side together.
“curse you!” he cried. “have you come back from death to take her from me again?”
“even from death,” i said. “even from death, my lord. i come, not to claim her, but to kill you. for she was mine by every right of heaven and earth, and you took her from me.”
“i loved her first,” he almost shouted the words. “and 212she is mine now by the rights of man; that of possession. make the most of that, you witch-traitor.”
“you shall answer for your words later,” i said.
so we stood thus, perchance while a man might have counted a score slowly. around us was the waste of waters. under our feet the quivering eagle, that was like to go to pieces every second. between us, as pale as death, was lucille, the cause of both of us being there. perhaps she was dead, and our bitter words were spoken in vain.
the seas were calm for a little time while thus we stood, or we must have all been washed into the waves.
then i saw the hand of sir george steal to his sword. i clapped mine to my side only to meet with nothing. he smiled.
a wave lifted the eagle, and after it had passed the craft settled down more deeply in the water. we both started.
“there is no time for you and i to settle our hate and quarrel now,” i remarked. “we will need all our strength if we would save her.”
“yes, yes,” he assented eagerly.
so together we labored, he and i; as deadly enemies as ever two men could be, striving in harmony to save the life of a woman, who, hitherto, had brought us both little more than hate. and yet we loved her, both of us. i, perforce, because i could do no less.
213first we placed her where the waves could reach her as little as possible, for she was still as one dead. i passed a rope around the mast, and fastened one end about lucille’s waist. and my hands trembled strangely as i touched her cold hand.
quivers of the boat warned us that she would hold together but a brief spell now, and we worked with feverish haste, neither speaking a word.
at length the few boards we could tear loose were bound together, and on them we must make the attempt to get lucille to shore.
i paused to look at her, and the love grew in my heart. i gazed up and found sir george at my side. he, too, looked down on her. then we two glanced at each other, and the love in our eyes turned to hate.
“quick!” i said. “there is no time to wait.”
we had arranged the raft so that one of us could swim ahead and drag it by a rope, while the other could swim behind and push. a box lashed to the centre made a support for lucille. we placed her on the planks, her shoulders against the box, so that her head would be above the waves. then we made ready for our battle with the sea.
sir george unbuckled his sword, and lashed it to the raft.
“i will go ahead,” said sir george haughtily.
“no, i,” was my answer.
214“damn you!” he cried. “you want to steal her from me and leave me here.”
“nay,” i said gently, “look you. whatever may be our differences we will settle them later, as men should with the sword. now, however, there is work to be done. i know the shore better than do you, having seen it from above. therefore i will take the lead. it will not be for long. perchance i may be swallowed up in the waters. then our quarrel will be ended.”
with that he agreed, though i could see the distrust in his eyes.
slowly we shoved the raft with its precious burden off into the water, avoiding the rock on which the eagle was impaled. then fastening the rope about my shoulders i struck out for the shore. sir george leaped in after me and swam behind, pushing the frail structure. it was a perilous moment.
for a time it seemed that we would never succeed. but we strained with every muscle, and, gradually drew near shore. then we had to beware of the dreadful undertow, which was strong at this point. with a few more strokes i let down my feet, and felt bottom. then i waded up the beach, and pulled the raft high up out of reach of the waves.
before i could get to lucille sir george was at her side, and with eager hands he began to unloosen the ropes that bound her.
215“is she living?” i asked, yet feeling a strange indifference while i waited for the answer. what mattered it to me if she did live?
“she breathes,” he said, and i noted a little trembling of the white lids that veiled her eyes.
“there are some spirits in my flask in the saddle bags,” i remarked, motioning to where i had tethered kit.
“will you get the flask?” he asked, “unless, mayhap, you fear to leave her alone with me while you go. though she was long enough with me in the eagle.”
the words were not out of his mouth ere i stood beside him, and my hands were at his throat.
“recall that last,” i said, “or i will give you no chance to stand before me with sword in hand. recall your words, my lord.”
“i do,” he snarled, and he fell to rubbing his neck when i let go. as i turned to get the brandy a man came running down the sands. it was simon.
“there is no need for either of us to go,” remarked sir george. “simon will get the flask if you tell him where it is.”
i directed the sailor where to come upon kit, and then fell to chafing lucille’s hands, as did sir george, and this we were at when simon returned, neither of us speaking a word, though deep in our hearts were many things that might have found utterance.
