The Lust of Hate - Guy Newell Boothby (english love story books txt) 📗

class="calibre1">with a wan little smile that went to my heart.

 

Having got my party safely ashore, and made my boat fast to the

oar, as proposed by Miss Maybourne, the next thing to be done was to

discover a suitable spot where we might fix our camp, and then to

endeavour to find some sort of food upon which we might sustain our

lives until we should be rescued. I explained my intentions to my

elder companion, and then, leaving them on the beach together,

climbed the hillside to explore. On the other sides of the island

the peak rose almost precipitously from the beach, and upon the side

on which we stood it was, in many places, pretty stiff climbing. At

last, however, to my great delight, on a small plateau some thirty

yards long by twenty deep, I discovered a cave that looked as if it

would suit my purpose to perfection. It was not a large affair, but

quite big enough to hold the woman and the child even when lying at

full length. To add to my satisfaction, the little strip of land

outside was covered with a coarse grass, a quantity of which I

gathered and spread about in the cave to serve as a bed. This, with

a few armfuls of dry seaweed, which I knew I should be able to obtain

on the beach, made an excellent couch.

 

What, however, troubled me more than anything else, was the fear

that the island might contain no fresh water. But my doubts on that

head were soon set at rest, for on the hillside, a little below the

plateau on which I had discovered the cave, was a fair-sized pool,

formed by a hollow in a rock, which, when I tasted it, I found to

contain water, a little brackish it is true, but still quite

drinkable. There was an abundance of fuel everywhere, and if only I

could manage to find some shell fish on the rocks, or hit upon some

way of catching the fish swimming in the bay, I thought we might

manage to keep ourselves alive until we were picked up by some

passing boat.

 

Descending to the beach again, I told Miss Maybourne of my

discoveries, and then taking poor little Esther in my arms we set off

up the hill towards the cave. On reaching it I made them as

comfortable as I could and then descended to the shore again in

search of food.

 

Leaving the little sandy bay where we had landed, I tramped along

as far as some large rocks I could see a couple of hundred yards or

so to my left hand. As I went I thought of the strangeness of my

position. How inscrutable are the ways of Providence! However much I

might have hated Bartrand, had I not met Nikola I should in all

probability never have attempted to revenge myself on him. In that

case I should not have been compelled to fly from England at a

moment’s notice, and should certainly not have sailed aboard the

Fiji Princess. Presuming, therefore, that all would have gone

on without me as it had done with me, Miss Maybourne would have been

drowned off the coast of Spain, and the Fiji Princess would

have gone to the bottom and nobody have been left to tell the tale.

It was a curious thought, and one that sent a strange thrill through

me to think what good had indirectly resulted from my misfortune.

 

Beaching the rocks mentioned above, I clambered on to them and

began my search for limpets. Once more Fate was kind to me. The

stones abounded with the mollusks, the majority of which were of

larger sizes than I had met with in my life before. In considerably

less than five minutes I had detached a larger supply than our little

party would be able to consume all day.

 

My harvest gathered, I filled my handkerchief and set off for the

plateau again. About half-way I looked up, to find Miss Maybourne

standing at the cave mouth watching me. Directly she saw me

approaching, she waved her hand to encourage me, and that little

gesture set my heart beating like a wheat-flail. It was the first

dawning of a knowledge that was soon to give me the greatest pain I

had ever yet known in my life.

 

On reaching the plateau, I hastened towards her and placed my

spoils at her feet.

 

“Fortune is indeed kind to us,” I said. “See what splendid limpets

I have obtained from the rocks down yonder. I was beginning to

be afraid lest there should be nothing edible on the island.”

 

“But how are we to cook them?” she answered, with a little

shudder, for I must confess the things did not look appetising. “I

could not eat them raw.”

 

“I have no intention that you shall,” I cried, reassuringly. “I am

going to light a fire and cook them for you.”

 

“But how can you light a fire? Have you any matches dry

enough?”

 

I took from my waistcoat pocket a little Japanese match-box, the

lid of which closed with a strong spring, and opened it in some

trepidation. So much depended on the discovery I was about to make.

With a trembling hand I pressed back the lid, and tipped the contents

into my palm. Fortunately, the strength of the spring and the tight

fit of the cover rendered the box almost water-tight, and for this

reason the dozen or so matches it contained were only a little damp.

In their present state, however, they were quite useless.

 

“I think,” I said, turning them over and examining them closely,

“that if I place them in a dry spot they will soon be fit for

use.”

 

“Let me do it for you,” she said, holding out her hand. “You have

done everything so far. Why should I not be allowed to help you?”

 

“I shall be only too glad to let you,” I answered. “I want to cut

the fish out of their shells and prepare them for the fire.”

 

So saying, I handed over the precious matches to her care; and

then, taking my clasp knife from my pocket, set about my work. When

it was finished, and I had prepared an ample meal for three people, I

placed it in a safe place in the cave, and then set about collecting

a supply of fuel for the fire.

 

When this work was done I determined to climb to a point of

vantage and search the offing for a sail. Just as I was starting,

however, Miss Maybourne called to me to know where I was going. I

informed her of my errand, and she immediately asked permission to

accompany me. I told her that I should be very glad of her company,

and when she had looked into the cave at the little child, who was

still fast asleep, we set off together.

 

From the encampment we climbed the hillside for a hundred feet or

so, and then, reaching another small plateau, turned our attention to

the sea. Side by side we looked across the expanse of blue water for

the sail that was to bring deliverance to us. But no sign of any

vessel could be seen—only a flock of seagulls screeching round the

rocks below us, and another wheeling roundabout in the blue sky above

our heads.

 

“Nothing there,” I said bitterly. “Not a single sail of any

kind.”

 

A fit of anger, as sudden as the squall that ruffles the surface

of a mountain lake, rose in my breast against Fate. I shook my fist

fiercely at the plane of water softly heaving in the sunlight, and

but for my companion’s presence could have cursed our fate aloud. I

suppose Miss Maybourne must have understood, for she came a little

closer to me and laid her hand soothingly upon my arm.

 

“Mr. Wrexford,” she said, “surely you who have hitherto been so

brave are not going to give way now, just because we cannot see a

ship the first time we look for one. No! No! I know you too well, and

I cannot believe that.”

 

“You shame me, Miss Maybourne,” I replied, recovering myself

directly. “Upon my word, you do. I don’t know what made me give way

like that. I am worse than a baby.”

 

“I won’t have you call yourself names either. It was because you

are tired and a little run down,” she answered. “You have done too

much. Oh, Mr. Wrexford, I want you to grant me a favour. I want you

to kneel with me while I thank God for His great mercy in sparing our

lives. We owe everything to Him. Without His help where should we be

now?”

 

“I will kneel with you with pleasure,” I said, “if you wish it,

but I am not worthy. I have been too great a sinner for God to listen

to me.”

 

“Hush! I cannot let you say that,” she went on. “Whatever your

past may have been, God will hear you and forgive you if you pray

aright. Remember, too, that in my eyes you have atoned for all your

past by your care of us last night. Come, let us kneel down

here.”

 

So saying, she dropped on to her knees on that little plateau, and

without a second’s hesitation I followed her example. It must have

been a strange sight for the gulls, that lovely girl and myself

kneeling, side by side, on that windy hillside. Overhead rose the

rugged peak of the mountain, below us was the surf-bound beach, and

on all sides the treacherous sea from which we had so lately been

delivered. What were the exact words of the prayer Miss Maybourne

sent up to the Throne of Grace I cannot now remember; I only know it

seemed to me the most beautiful expression of thankfulness for the

past, and supplication for guidance and help in the future that it

would be possible for a human being to give utterance to. When she

had finished we rose, and having given a final glance round, went

down the hill again. On reaching our camping-place she went to the

cave to ascertain how little Esther was, while I sought the spot

where she had set the matches to dry. To my delight they were now

ready for use. So placing them back in my box as if they were the

greatest treasures I possessed on earth—as they really were just

then—I went across to the fire I had built up. Then striking one of

the matches upon a stone I lit the grass beneath the sticks, and in

less time than it takes to tell had the satisfaction of seeing a fine

bonfire blazing before me. This done, I crossed to the cave to obtain

the fish I had placed there.

 

On entering, I discovered Miss Maybourne kneeling beside the

child.

 

“How is she now?” I enquired, surprised at discovering the poor

little mite still asleep upon the bed of grass.

 

“She is unconscious again,” answered Miss Maybourne, large tears

standing in her beautiful eyes as she spoke. “Oh, Mr. Wrexford, what

can we do to save her life?”

 

“Alas! I cannot tell,” I replied. “Shall we give her some more

brandy? I have still a little left in the flask.”

 

“We might try it,” she said. “But I fear it will not be much use.

What the poor little thing needs most is a doctor’s science and

proper nursing. Oh! if I only knew what is really the matter, I might

be able to do something for her. But, as it is, I feel powerless to

help her at