The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1908-11-07
CHAPTER XVI.-(Continued.)

called by the pleading voice and the face
of tragedy before him; how many times
the whipping tongue of Macready num-
bied, forgetting its object, while his senses
reeled against the burning walls Of his
brain how many times the splendid spirit
of the woman recalled her own lowlier
faculties to action and the terrible mean
ing of the quest God and these
knew. But the little boat held its PROV
TO the desolate shore.
They gained the Sugar Landing at last,
and strange sounds came from the lips Of
Ernst, as he pointed to the hulk Of the
launch, burned to the water line. Gray
covered heaps were sprawled upon the
shore, some half-covered by the incoming
tide, some entirely awash. Pelee had
brought down the city; and the fre-tiger
had rushed in at the kill. He was Kissing
and crunching still, under the ruins. The
woman moaned and covered her face.
"There is nothing alive p she said with
dreadful stress.
"What else could you LUX fur?" Mac
ready demanded. "Wait till we get over
tn HILL and you'll hear tn burrds sing
in the naygurs laughin' in the fields an
wonderin' why the milkman don't come"
II can live-yes, 1 can live-until / see
our house crushed to the hill, all coated
with paste, and those heaps lying about
on the ground! "A woman can't
be friend like a man! You will stand
and uncover your heads-when you see
your friend lying upon the ground-and l
II will die ~
She was walking between them, up to-
ward the market place, fighting back her
terrors, which added to the burdens of the
men. The opened space was filled with
the stones from the houses, hurled there
as from a dice box. Smoke and steam
oozed forth from every ruin. The silence
was awful as the sight of death. Rue
Victor Hugo was effaced, the way up to-
ward the morne undiscernible. A breath
ing pile of debris barred every way. 1t
was plain that they must make their way
southwark along the shore.
"If l cud on'y get holt O that barna-
Gle av a sharks toot,' Pugh-if 1 cud ony
get him here vance bare-futted," Denny
gasped-''sure I'd lie happy holdin' av
him Ha don't sthep there -
He pulled her away from a puddle of
uncongealed stuff as hot as running iron.
Once he had stepped upon what
seemed to be an ash-covered stone. 1t
was soft, springy, and vented a wheezy
sigh. Rain and rock-dust had smeared
all things alike in this gray, roasting
shambles.
Speak won't you please speak?" the
woman cried suddenly.
ut luks like rain, ma'am," Macready's
quick tongue offered.
They were on the shore, nearing the
rise of the Morne d'Orange. Saint Pierre
had rushed to the sea-at the last. The
mountain had found the women with the
children, as all manner of visitations find
them-and the men a little apart. There
was nothing to do by the way, no lips
to moisten, no voice of pain to hush, no
dying thing to ease. Pelee had not fall
tered at the last. There was not an in
sect murmur in the air. nor a crawling
thing beneath, not a moving wing in the
hot gray sky. They traversed shore
of death absolute-these three-and the
woman was thinking ahead.
From the shoulder of the morne Lara
turned back one look. Saint Pierre was
like a mouth that had lost it's pearls. The
fruit Pelee had cut the cane fields, suck
ed the juices, and left the blasted stalks
in his paste. The plantation house push
ed forth no shadow of an outline. 1t might
be felled, or lost in the smoky distance.
The nearer landmarks were gone-homes
that had frightened the morne in their
day, whose windows had flashed the rays
of the afternoon sun as it rode down over
sea-levelled like the fields OF cane. There
was no balm, no saving grace. Pelee had
swept far and left only his shroud, and
the heaps upon the way, to show that the
old sea road, so white, so beautiful. had
been the haunt Of man. The mangoes
had lost their vesture: the palms were
gnarled and naked fingers pointing to the
pitiless sky.
She had known this highway in the
mornings, when joy was not dead, when
the songs of the toilers and the laughter
of children glorifed the fields; in the
white moonlight, when the sweet draughts
from the sea met and mingled with the
spice from torrid hills, and scent Of jas
mine and rose gardens. The
dark eyes under the huge helmet were
staring ahead; her lips were parted and
white. Though they had passed the ra-
dius of terrific heat, she seemed slowly
to be suffocating. Macready remembered
his voice.
Things are queer by the sea, ma'am.
Now, if I'd ha' TUX Pugh be tn t'roat I'd
be intertainin' Mr.. Constable presently in
the bottom av tn ship, logged out head
an fut in irons fur tn occasion, an he'd
say, 'Dinny. why didn't you sthand be tn
lady whin tould you? Perhaps you can
stand be tn bunkers betther, me son. Go
to thin, We goat!' Ernst, lad,
you're intertainin', you're loquenchus."
The woman was stepping forward
swiftly between them. Words died upon
Macready's tongue when he saw her face
and thought of what she would find
ahead. He believed that she would keep
her word-that she would break, brain
and body-if the mountain had shown no
mercy at their journeys end :
And Macready did not hope. The man
to whom he had tied his own life would
be down like the others, and the great
hOUSo ohc,,f L.