The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 19, 1904, Page 6

k rising tropic e velvet dark- shadows > banker warm wh soft, 1 Sea isle mean you 1 lunged af You xea rish.” ar. . 1 thought have he the deep sigh wa W 1 ms, him ses on his face and the heavy “Who's better right?” he T s to that as I am her fiance’ —— “You're a jim dandy fiance. What made you leave her on the yacht?” “Oh, well, we won't argue that point. Byt inasmuch as I am the owner and you! “¥es, 1 n mnot disputing that the schopher was your schooner mor the méte your mate. But you've got no schooner left, and therefore no mate. Savvy”” #But your pay goes on just the same,” said the er “Oh, does it? Well, I'm no sea law- wer, and I don’t know whether I'm en- titled to any more pay or not; but it seéms to me that I am entitled to some salVage on this little craft that you abaxmoned in a sinking condition,” and the mete jerked his thumb at the Countess. “‘Oh, you do, eh? Well, you'd better it's more stick to your pay, yOug man; negotiable.” The mate studied the sand at his feet thoughtfully. *“Got anything to eat?” he asked, presently. “One can of biscuits,” said the Bar- onet; “and there’s & spring back from the beach a way.” “Good! That's worth more to us than coin—or countesses, just now.” The mate took & survey of as much of the island as he could see. Then his eyes inventoried the fragments of wreckage along the beach. “Uninhabited, of course. Wouldn't support a jack rabbit so far as chow goes. And fust about enough flotsam to ferry one away!” The Baronet nodded. “What are the chances of being taken off, Knapp?” he asked. “Dasn slim. Accidental, you might say. Everything passing gives this is- land a wic berth « account of the others either side of us. Now, If we 1 to get to the next island quite see how we can.” »d off down the beach returned an h nk n h C tess the und the under her and almost was e’ ‘a dejeuner so et down the the 1 her my preserver. I am so fa- my thanks.” dropped = ty of her fe she tained that you hav a in the panu- skirts in both pretty head mate of which u e—tur ¢ imed the Baronc gs were cooked and eaten - semed to pervade the nger none but erved that the excl dropped off into a doze but m followed—all e I T and searched th hof » a cold, gray, anxious eye Soon 1 l> away from the others and , dr agments ch of the 11 heap and riffle for s hard face lightened he draggzed from f the boats to dry Three oars the next treasures. howled with joy as mass of cordage and tch t When all pau were sleening the Countess ed to the 1 contact with the cold sand which sudden awoke, « bone sun warmth had long since left. fire was almost dead and beside the smoldering ashes lay Jordan Knapp, face downward, and sleeping I ly. His great shoulders were out- 1 moonlit sky and as ply and silently she could see them rise and fall against the white horiz she watched, too cold to move, a ok the great frame; he on his drew in to warm The Countess crept softly out and hre a few sticks on the fire. As she b from beneath the edge of her coverlet a dark object across it caught her eve. It was the mate’s coat and another glance showed her [that he t in his thin shirt, epen at the neck. picked up the coat and held it « r the coals of the fire. When it red that the heat had penetrated fiber spread it gently across e ouiders of the mate, noticed as she i so thai the cotton shirt was clammy from the dew. Almost as the hed him the mate was . up on one knee and tense as a forestay On, it is you,” he whispered, recog- r in the moonlight. “I thought # in China again with Boles e river pirates—pshaw! I'm en still. What's the matter, Count “Diet I have so cold I may not Perhaps I have sleep enough in What a pity I arouse you, But you shiver in your have put yeur coat she added reproach- the cher ami! slcep and s my you knee,” I don’t mind the cold,” said the Imost roughly; “and I ought to fire up, but I was sort of " He was building the as he ‘spoke. “I'll make comfortable bed to-morrow, €, built up off the ground and atched out with palm leaves. Seems I might have thought of it before, busy saving junk that we = flame: a How long you think we must re- main on this islan’?” asked the Count- ess, holding her palms to the growing b €. “Not long, I reckon,” he answered r suringly. “We'll start to knock the pieces of the boat together to- morrow and then we'll work our passage along this chain of isl- ands until we strike an inhabited one. Maul can’t be more than 300 miles to the eastward’and the natives there are friendly.” “But the boat—how without tools may you make-him sea-deserving?” “Seaworthy? Oh, there are nails in the wreckaggaand I can chip these shells into tOols; and I have my knife.” “It will be a task like ‘The Toilers of the Sea’ You have read that book 7" “Yes; but there are several of us and we have a sail and can walt for a fair wind. It will be easy enough. Don’t worry, Countess, you'll be in Frisco in a couple of months.” “I do not worry whefi you are near, J-Jordin Knapp,” she added softly. “That’s a brave girl,” said the mate, patting her hand. “Now you must go to sleep again.” The Countess made no reply, but gazed out over the still, moonlit sea. The banker awoke with a gasp. “Are you' awake, Knapp?” he asked querulously. “I'm as cold as death. Can’t you bluld up that fire?” He raised himself en his elbow and saw the Countess. “If you're going to sit up by the fire, Celeste, do you mind if I take your piece of canvas? Who'd. ever think that it could be so cold down TY'E SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY here in the tropics?” he grumbled. “You know my lungs aren't very strong, Celeste, and the first thing you I'll be havinz pneumonia.” rap of sail partly off “I say, Knapp, just tuck y feet, will you? T believe I'm going to have a chill! Heat lie rest of that chowder for me, Ce- Damn the iuck, an; know bet that the next time I hire any offi- cers proper vacht I'll get men with the and who know their 11 your fault, Celeste. 1f you'd only been content to go right this never would have happened. t up something, Ce- me to have a—"" »wied the mate. for licenses back 1! What's that?” hut up, or I'll come over there and cur neck! Bavvy?” do you mean? Is that the way- Shut niouth, d'ye hear? The to bother he: d across the firelit rumbled off to sieep again. ;azed pensively at the turned to the mate. He rose suddenly, picked up the, Countess’ poor little canvas coverlet and held it to the blaze, then wrapped it gently around her and drew her up to him. The Count moon and “Put vour head on my lap- Now turn your back to the fire—so.” The fire was behind her, and tha broad chest of the mate sheltered her from the night breeze. “But you—Jordin Knapp—you can- not sleep so!” “Nefer fear, child; go to sleep.” His e was kind but imperative. “Ah, mon ami, nevair was I so com- fortable.” She gave a little sigh, and the eyelids fluttered down. The flames grew brighter. Soon she slept, and after a little the mpate’s chin sank on his chest and he, too, slept. So until morning, when the Baronet agoke. He looked & them keenly in the early dawn, ~nd the smile that parted his patrician lips was not altogether ironical. A week passed no, errant sail clove the distant The sup- ply of turtles’ eggs was gone and the fish caught by the Jap seemed a very lonely member of his species. The castaways ate_bul twice a day, 1 then scantily. The lines under the Countess’ deepened, and new s appeared in the rugged face,of eves the mate. He thade a bold pretense ¢ of eating, and only two of the party saw the deception, but as he grew daily _more « averous his energy seemed to increase. With infinite toil he chipped some of the broad sea shells into the semblance of tools— a saw, a chisel and an adze. Nails were drawn or dug from box and cask. the smashed eénds of the boat neatly spliced and calked with cot- ton fibers. When they awoke in the morning the artist was missing. The Countess the first to find his writing in the sand. w3 “Dear friends,” it read, “this is to apologize for leaving you so abruptly, but I've lost my nerve. Knapp says the boat can only safely carry four— possibly . The grub is getting low and I'm sick of chowder; besides, my demand is greater than my supply. Love to all. May God bless you and ou safely out of the mess! Aure- . The next day the mate with a smile at the Countess, pronounced the boat to be ‘“sea deserving.” Then they spent three days in catching ‘fish, which they dried in the sun. It was easier to catch the fish, now that they had a boat. Several bottles that had washed ashore and the biscuit tin'were filled with water from the spring, which day by day was dwindling as the dry season advanced. Another day was spent in waiting for a fair oreeze and recalking the boat. They towed her to the leeward side of the island, and there the Countess, the banker, the Baronet and the Jap embarked. The Baronet kept his face averted and when he tried to answer & question of the Countess’ his voice choked. > “Is it that you have grown fond of his beautiful island’?” she demanded, half jokingly, half in surprise. “J-J-Jordin, what do you make? Get in the boat! “No,” sald the mate, “I'm going to stop heré until you send a schooner for me. It won't be very long. This tub wouldn’t be safe with my ‘extra weight in her when it breezes up this afternoon.” He was wading behind the boat, shoving her through the shallows ahead of him. The Countess could not see his face, as he was lean- - ing over, the better te .throw his weight against the stern. “You're ell right now. There's nothing more that I can do. Sir Henry understands about the courses, and as soon as you get clear of the island you can hoist your sail and get a fine fair wind. When you get to Maut you can send a schooner——*" “Celeste, sit down!" snapped the banker. “You'll upset the boat if you don’t look out!” “Yes, sit down, Celeste,” sald the Baronet. ‘“We've arranged it all, and it’s the best wa; ”» Splash! The Countess had leaped nimbly into the water and was wad- ing, walst deep, back to the beach be- fore the mate could intercept her. At the edge of the water she turned. “And you would leave J-J-Jordin Knapp so—alone, desolated—even as you left me on the vessel? Mals non! He have stay by me, an’ I will remain with him. Think, mes amis, what it ‘would be—alone on this terrible {slan’ et night, with the moaning of the seal” She burst into a storm of tears. The mate turned to her flercely. “Celeste, do as I tell you! Get into that boat; do you want to make me— Obh,- Ol s 77 77 Y i go, for heaven's sake! Can’t you see that you're only making it worse?” The banker sald nothing. “I say, do be reasonable; why do you want to make it so hard-for us, Celeste cried the Baronet, with a queer vibration in his voice. “You ask me why I remain? I tell you. It is because that if I go I am the base ingrate. This man have risked his life for me when his blood run quick, an’ when his life is low he glve me his blood, drop by drop. Day by day he starve himself—an’ he think I do not see. Ver’ many times he bring me food an’ say he have eat plenty, but I know it is only his din- ner which he save. When I am cold he cover me with his coat an’ shiver; when I am triste he tell me the droll story, an’ say how soon I will be home. An’ now he have put everything of food an’' shelter in the bateau an’— an’ you ask me that I leave him——" Her voice choked and she covered her face with her hands. The mate dug his foot in the m and gnawed the end of his new, b ling mustache. d o227 4 LY 7SS OF. 21 S A 3 NI THE CQLT JCON CRASr JORDAY ANAFP “Is there any other reason, Celeste?” he asked in a voice like the echo of the surf. She raised her head, and the sunlight shone on her face. The little hands were tightly clasped. “Ah, yes; there Is more. I have known many men in many couutry, many who have the wit, the resource, the courage, the heart of gold. But never have I known a'man who have them all, as this gran’ man; and he has, beside”—she turned and -covered her face with her hands—"“mon coeur!” She sobbed softly. h, hell!” growled the banker; “let's “Who's going to chlporqn you two until the schooner comes?” asked the Baronet jocosely. “This!” said the mate, in a deep- toned veice. He snapped a cord about his neck and drew forth a heavy gold- en ring. The blue eyes of the Countess opened wide. “It was my mother’s, Cel you wear it for me—always She put her hand in his. J-J-Jordin Knapp.” The busy little Jap, who had been swabbing the boat dry, leaped to his feet 8o quickly that he almost had a capsize. “E-e-e-e-e—~yah!” he squealed, point- ing seaward. The mate's keen eye was the first to follow the boy’s. “Sail.O!" he roared In a voice that sounded like & cry of pain. Suddenly e. Wi “Yes, 777E MATE helthrew. nfs hands above his head. “They've come for us! The other boat's been picked up! What?—what?" He did a beach dance that would shame a cannibal. The banker stared out to sea as if uncertain of his part or tne play. Close to the shore the placid waters lay pearly gray, still unawakened in the shadow of the palms. Beyond, the sparkling waves danced sun-kissed and joyous with the life of the growing day. Far on the low horizon a widen- ing band of ultramarine wmarked advent of the trade wind and over the skyline a pink puff rose steadily over the ocean’s brim. Larger it grew, coursing In the wake of the breeze and soon the darker speck that marked the hull appeared. On she came, her topsail shot with the flaming crimson of the sunrise and §0on & snowy streak beneath her fore- foot showed each onward rush. Close grouped, as if to concentrate thei: sight, they feasted with their eyes until the Countess’'s grew so dim she could not see. little sob strug- gled to escape, and at the sound the mate and the banker turnéd to her. The eyes of the two men met ip a look different from that thrown seaward. “Well,” said the banker, “there’s no need for heroics after all. We'll all go together, and let's try to forget this chapter. 1 say we call everything that has happened on this blooming island off. Celeste, don't cry. my—" The mate’s arm encircled the Coun- tess. She turned to the banker. “Ah, yes, mon cher! it shall be as you wish. Everything is off—but the ::::' she added softly, turning to the