The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1901-09-15
On The F@r@ cas- Tie Deck
MORGAN RQRERTS0N
BY MORGAN ROBERTSON
copyright, 1901, by the S. S. Mcclure Company.

The other boats heave in sight, one
by one, and discharge their living
freight, then-back to the steamer, and
back to the ship. The decks are filling
with men and boys, and here and there,
woman or a child. Some seek the
shelter of the forward house, and stare
to windward at the red glare upon the
gray wall One slight figure leaves this
group, steps upon the fore hatch, and
looks steadily up at me.
We are drifting faster than the blaz-
ing steamer: she is now on our port
bow and our distance Is increasing;
but, as l watch, the black line on her
forward rail grows thinner and thin
I ner, while boat after boat comes out
of the snow and returns to her. Then
they come, the four together, and 1
hear the joyful hail of the second mate:
Got EN- all. sir. Good thing, too.
There's powder in her hold"
l step to leeward and look down on
the confusion below, where three boats
endeavor to keep clear of each other
while fourth unloads. Then l return
10 the capstan, where, facing me in the
furry of snowfakes is a slight figure
woman. One small hand rests upon
the capstan, one small foot peeps from
beneath her dress. L had seen this at
titude in girl at a gate in the moon
light. The parallel is more complete
there is the same, slow troubled nod
ding of the head. 1t is more than COM
plete; it is the girl. For, though 1 can
not distinguish her features, know
her voice when she speaks.
You would not come home so
come to you. Why would you not come =?
l waited so long"
L spring toward her and she ad-
vances, her head still slowly nodding.
L forget the situation-the storm, the
crowded decks, my position on lookout
our Isolated prominence in full view of
those who would look and l extend my
arms.
But sudden lighting up of the dull
hued blanket of sea and sky startles
us both. Then comes gray darkness
and on the port bow is a faint point
of light where had shown the flare
of the burning steamer, then a shock
and a report like the boom of nearby
thunder, and, with the point of light
fast fixed in my eyes, hear a thun-
dering voice from the poop: Keep a
good lookout for'ard, there"
A SILVER, colder than the snow.
passes through me; the girl seems to
move away into nothingness; the gray
of the snow-filled air changes to the
clear brightness of a moonlit sky, and
L am hanging over the capstan, still
gazing at a point of light burning
steadily on the port bow. 1t bursts into
a flare for second, then subsidies to
its steady glow.
AYE, aye, SIR" l manage to answer,
while my brain reels and my legs quiv-
er under my weight. Flashing white
light on the port bow. SIR"
"All right-all right. Keep your eyes
open on lookout there" But he does
not come forward.
have slept on lookout. How long
do not know, until a watchmate APP
pears within call and hail him.
How many times did the mate sing
out to keep a good lookout"
"Once. He saw the light fore you
did. Been asleep?"
About a second or two"
Dreams are curious in that they re-
quire no time that can be measured by
finite units. That call from the mate
to keep a good lookout for'ard, there"
which / heard twice at different times
in my dream was the call which wax
ened me. A dream is an instantaneous
photograph, not a moving picture of
sequences, and l had long known it,
But what / do not know, and what
shall learn when / reach shore, is the
inner meaning of that dream. / shall
be there in a month, when the moon
will again be full: and l shall seek
quiet country village that / know, u
lane in that village, a gate in the
lane, a house behind the gate-a girl
in the house. / shall ask her If at
half-past II of this night she did not
dream of storm and fire and rescue at
sea.
1 shall also ask her something else,