Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast

Captain Mayo exchanged a long look with Alma Marston when he came up

the steps. Love, pity, and greeting were in his eyes. Her countenance

revealed her vivid emotions; she was overwrought, unstrung, half-crazed

after a night spent with her fears. When he came within her reach

caution was torn from her as gossamer is flicked away by a gale. Impulse

had always governed her; she gave way to it then.

"I don't care," she sobbed. "I love you. They may as well know it!"

Before he understood her intentions or could prevent her rashness she

flung her arms about his neck and kissed him repeatedly.

Marston stood in his tracks like a man stricken by paralysis; his cigar

dropped from his open mouth. This exhibition under his very nose, with

his guests and the whole crew of his yacht looking on, fairly stunned

him.

"If you had died I would have died!" she wailed.

Then her father plunged toward her, elbowing the astonished Beveridge

out of his way.

Captain Mayo gently unhooked the arms of the frantic girl from about his

neck and stepped forward, putting himself between father and daughter.

He was not taking sensible thought in the matter; he was prompted by an

instinctive impulse to protect her.

Mayo had no word ready at his tongue's end, and Mar-ston's anathema was

muffled and incoherent. The girl's rash act had tipped over the sane and

manly self-possession of both of them. The captain was too bewildered

to comprehend the full enormity of his action in standing guard over the

daughter of Julius Marston, as if she needed protection on her father's

quarter-deck. He did not move to one side of the alley when Marston

jerked an impatient gesture.

"I want to say that I am wholly to blame, sir," he faltered. "I hope you

will overlook--"

"Are you presuming to discuss my daughter's insanity with me?" He

noticed that the sailors were preparing to hoist the tender to the

davits. "Drop that boat back into the water!" he shouted. There was an

ugly rasp in his voice, and for a moment it seemed as if he were about

to lose control of himself. Then he set a check on his temper and

tongue, though his face was deathly white and his eyes were as hard as

marbles. Resolve to end further exhibition in this incredible business

dominated his wrathful shame.

"If you will set us ashore--" pleaded Mayo.

"Get back into that boat, you and your gang, whatever it is!"