"If the wind should shift," said I, "we may have to do that for quite

a time. I don't know whether the lighthouse keeper has a boat or not,

and the channel lies between us and the light--it makes out here

straight to the Gulf. But now, be quiet, my sons, and see if we can't

all get some sleep. I'll take care of the fire."

I passed a little apart to hunt for some driftwood, my shadow, John,

following close at hand. When I returned I found a muffled figure

standing at the feeble blaze. Helena raised her eyes, grave and

serious.

"It was splendid," said she in a low tone of voice, addressing not so

much myself as all the world, it seemed to me.

"Get back in there and go to sleep," said I. And, quietly she obeyed,

so far as I might tell.

For my own part, I did not seek the shelter of the other boat, but,

wrapped in sweater and slicker, stood in the rain, John at my side.

Once in a while we set out in the dark to find more wood for the

little fire. In some way the long night wore on. Toward morning the

rain ceased. It seemed to me that the rocking search-light of the

Belle Helène made scarce so wide an arc across the bay. The

lighthouse ray shone less furry and yellow through the night. The wind

began to lull, coming in gusts, at times after some moments of calm.

The roll of the sea still came in, but sometimes I almost fancied that

the surf was bellowing not so loud. And so at length, the dawn came,

softening the gloom, and I could hear the roar of the great bodies of

wild fowl rising as they always do at dawn, the tumult of their wings

rivaling the heavy rhythm of the surf itself.

The advancing calm of nature seemed to quiet the senses of the

sleepers, even in their sleep. Gently making up the fire for the last

time, as the gray light began to come across the beach, I wandered

inland a little way in search of the fresh water lagoon. Its edge lay

not more than two or three hundred yards back of our bivouac. So, as

best I might, I bathed my face and hands, and regretted that such

things as soap and towels had been forgotten with many other things.

Not irremediable, our plight; for now I could see the Belle Helène

still rolling at her anchor, uneasy, but still afloat; and in the

daylight, and with a lessening sea, there would be no great difficulty

in boarding her as we liked.

Presently the others of the party were all afoot, standing stiffly,

sluggishly, in the chill of dawn; and such was the breakfast which my

boy John presently prepared for us, that I confess I began to make

comparisons not wholly to his discredit. Now, for instance, said I to

myself, had it been Mrs. Daniver who had been forgotten on board

ship--but, of course, that line of reasoning might not be followed

out. And as for Mrs. Daniver herself, it was only just to say that she

made a fair attempt at comradeship, considering that she had retired

without any aid whatever for her neuralgia. Helena seemed reticent.

The men, as usual, ate apart. I did not find myself loquacious. Only

my two young ruffians seemed full of the enjoyment possible in such a

situation.




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