The Lust of Hate - Guy Newell Boothby (english love story books txt) 📗
- Author: Guy Newell Boothby
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sombre coal-black hue, and myriads of stars were beginning to make
their appearance in the sky, I turned my boat’s head, and pulled
towards the shore again. A great melancholy had settled upon me, a
vague sense of some impending catastrophe, of which, try how I would,
I found I could not rid myself.
On reaching the plateau, I made my way to the cave, and looked in.
I discovered Miss Maybourne kneeling beside the child on the grass.
As soon as she saw me she rose and led me out into the open.
“Mr. Wrexford,” she said, “the end is quite close now, I feel
sure. The poor little thing is growing weaker every moment. Oh, it is
too terrible to think that she must die because we have not the means
to save her.”
I did my best to comfort her, but it was some time before I
achieved any sort of success. When she had in a measure recovered her
composure, I accompanied her back to the cave and examined the little
sufferer for myself. Alas! one glance showed me how very close the
end was. Already the child’s face and hands were cold and clammy, her
respiration was gradually becoming more and more difficult. She was
still unconscious, and once I almost thought she was dead.
All through that dreadful night she lingered on. Miss Maybourne
remained with her until close upon midnight, when I relieved her.
Shortly before sunrise I went to the mouth of the cave and looked
out. The stars were almost gone from the sky, and the world was very
still. When I returned, I thought the child had suddenly grown
strangely quiet, and knelt down to examine her. The first grey shafts
of dawn showed me that at last the end had come. Death had claimed
his victim. Henceforth we need feel no more concern for poor little
Esther—her sufferings were over. She had gone to join her mother and
the little ones who had lost their lives two days before. Having
convinced myself that what I imagined was correct, I reverently
closed the little eyes and crossed the frail hands upon her breast,
and then went out into the fresh air. The sun was in the act of
making his appearance above the peak, and all our little world was
bathed in his glory. I looked across to the place between the rocks
where I usually slept, and saw Miss Maybourne rising from her rest.
My presence outside the cave must have told her my news, for she came
swiftly across to where I stood.
“It is all over,” she said, very quietly. “I can see by your face
that the end has come.”
I nodded. For the life of me, I could not have spoken just then.
The sight of that agonised face before me and the thought of the dead
child lying in the cave behind me deprived me of speech entirely.
Miss Maybourne noticed my condition, and simply said, “Take me to
her.” I did as she commanded, and together we went back to the
chamber of death. When we reached it, my companion stood for a few
moments looking at the peaceful little figure on the couch of grass,
and then knelt down beside it. I followed her example. Then, holding
my hand in hers, she prayed for the child from whose body the soul
had just departed; then for ourselves still left upon the island.
When she had finished, we rose, and, after a final glance at our dead
companion, went out into the open air again.
By this time I had got so much into the habit of searching the sea
for ships that I did it almost unconsciously. As I passed the cave I
glanced out across the waste of water. Then I stood stock still,
hardly able to believe the evidence of my eyes. There, fast rising
above the horizon, were the Bails of a full-rigged ship. Miss
Maybourne saw them as soon as I did, and together we stood staring at
the vessel with all our eyes. My companion was the first to speak.”
“Do you think she will come near enough to see us,” she cried, in
a voice I hardly recognized, so agitated was it.
“She must be made to see us,” I answered, fiercely. “Come what
may, she must not pass us.”
“What are you going to do? How are you going to prevent it? Tell
me, and let me help you if I can.”
A notion had seized me, and I determined to put it into practice
without an instant’s delay.
“Let us collect all the wood we can find and then make a large
bonfire. When that has been done, we must launch the boat and pull
out to intercept her. If she sees the flare she will make her way
here, and if she does not, we may be able to catch her before she
gets out of our reach. Thus in either case we shall be saved.”
Without another word we set to work collecting wood. By the time
the hull of the vessel was above the horizon we had accumulated a
sufficient quantity to make a large beacon. We did not sot fire to it
at once, however, for the reason that I had no desire to waste my
smoke before those on board the ship would be able to distinguish it
from the light clouds hovering about the peaks above. But before we
could dream of leaving the island there were two other matters to be
attended to. The first was to fill up the mouth of the cave with
stones, for there was no time to dig a grave, and so convert it into
a rough sepulchre; the second was to cook and eat our breakfast. It
was certain we should require all our strength for the undertaking,
and to attempt such a long row on an empty stomach would, I knew, be
worse than madness. These things I explained to Miss Maybourne, who
willingly volunteered to officiate as cook while I set about the work
first mentioned. In something less than a quarter of an hour I had
rolled several large rocks into the mouth of the cave, and upon these
had placed others until the entrance was effectually barricaded. By
the time this work was completed it was necessary to light the
bonfire. This I did, setting fire to the dry grass at the bottom with
a log from the blaze at which Miss Maybourne had just been cooking.
In a few minutes we had a flare the flames of which could not have
been less than twenty feet in height.
We ate our breakfast with our eyes fixed continually upon the
advancing ship. So far she seemed to be heading directly for the
island, but my fear was that she might change her course without
discovering our beacon, and in that case be out of range before we
could attract her attention. Our meal finished therefore, I led Miss
Maybourne down the hill to the beach, and then between us we pushed
the lifeboat into the water. My intention was to row out a few miles
and endeavour to get into such a position that whatever course the
vessel steered she could not help but see us.
As soon as we had pushed off from the shore I turned the boat’s
head, and, taking up the oars, set to work to pull out to sea. It was
not altogether an easy task, for the boat was a heavy one and the
morning was strangely warm. The sky overhead was innocent of cloud,
but away to the west it presented a hazy appearance; the look of
which I did not altogether like. However, I stuck to my work, all the
time keeping my eyes fixed on the rapidly advancing ship. She
presented a fine appearance, and it was evident she was a vessel of
about three thousand tons. I hoped she would turn out to belong to
our own nationality, though under the circumstances any other would
prove equally acceptable. At present she was distant from us about
six miles, and as she was still heading directly for the island I
began to feel certain she had observed our signal. For this reason I
pointed my boat’s head straight for her and continued to pull with
all the strength I possessed. Suddenly Miss Maybourne uttered a
little cry, and seeing her staring in a new direction I turned in my
seat to discover what had occasioned it.
“She is leaving us,” cried my companion, in agonized tones,
pointing to the vessel we had been attempting to intercept. “Look,
look, Mr. Wrexford, she is leaving us!”
There was no need for her to bid me look, I was watching the ship
with all my eyes. Heaven alone knows how supreme was the agony of
that moment. She had gone about, and for this reason it was plain
that those on board had not seen our signal. Now, unless I could
manage to attract her attention! it would be most unlikely that she
would see us. In that case we might die upon the island without a
chance of escape. At any cost we must intercept her. I accordingly
resumed my seat again and began to pull wildly after her. Fortunately
the breeze was light and the sea smooth, otherwise I should
have made no headway at all. But when all was said and done, with
both wind and tide in my favour, it was but little that I could
accomplish. The boat, as I have already said, was a large and heavy
one, and my strength was perhaps a little undermined by all I had
gone through in the last two or three days. But, knowing what
depended on it, I toiled at the oars like a galley slave,
while Miss Maybourne kept her eyes fixed upon the retreating ship. At
the end of an hour I was obliged to give up the race as hopeless. My
strength was quite exhausted, and our hoped-for saviour was just
showing hull down upon the horizon. Realizing this I dropped my head
on to my hands like the coward I was and resigned myself to my
despair. For the moment I think I must have forgotten that I was a
man, I remembered only the fact that a chance had been given us of
escaping from our prison, and that just as we were about to grasp it,
it was snatched away again. Our fate seemed too cruel to be endured
by mortal man.
“Courage, friend, courage,” said Miss Maybourne, as she noticed my
condition. “Bitter as our disappointment has been we have not done
with hope yet. Because that vessel did not chance to rescue us it
does not follow that another may not do so. Had we not better be
getting back to the island? It is no use our remaining here now that
the ship is out of sight.”
I saw the wisdom contained in her remark, and accordingly pulled
myself together and set to work to turn the boat’s head in the
direction we had come. But when we had gone-about, my dismay
may be imagined at discovering that a thick fog had obscured the
island, and was fast bearing down upon us. Those on hoard the vessel
we had been chasing must have seen it approaching, and have thought
it advisable to give the island and its treacherous surroundings as
wide a berth as possible.
“Can you see the land at all, Mr. Wrexford?” asked Miss Maybourne,
who had herself been staring in the direction in which our bows were
pointing.
“I must confess I can see nothing of it,” I answered. “But
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