Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1909-09-10
CHAPTER V

accustomed serene outlook on the beach
when at dinner l found a tiny note lying
at my plate. Charles frequently stopped
at the Penguin Club on his way from
marketing, to see If by chance any mail
had lodged there for me. This time he
had discovered the diminutive missive
aforesaid tucked into the box that was
reserved for me, and which usually con-
tanned only the daily papers. The en-
velope was square and of delicate shade
between violet and gray, and my name
was written on 1t in a fine, bold hand.
Inside was a single sheet:
'My Dear Mr.. Pirate or Hermit (which
ever you are):
''I shall visit the Ship Friday after
noon-when the tide is low"
There was no name, not even bare
initial.
looked at my calendar-I was apt to
forget the days of the week-and found
that 1t was already Friday. l folded up
the note and put it in my pocket, hardly
knowing whether to be vexed or pleased.
The truth of the matter is that l found
Miss Graham's last visit disconcerting.
II seemed absurd, but she had in some
strange manner changed the tone OF the
beach. Instead of being place for calm,
solitary musing, II had assumed the as
pect Of spot made for company. l had
never before felt the need of pointing out
the pink shades of the sands and the
golden crests Of the rolling combers, nor
of requiring another's admiration OF the
circling gulls. Now l did, and the result
was that the more beautiful the beach,
the more restless was I, and this did not
suit me at all. l was not so dull as to
miss the cause of this change, and that
was the reason why the note both vexed
and pleased me. l was vexed that
should be glad, and yet glad that was
In the way of being further vexed.
looked at the barometer after din
ner: it was falling. 1 glanced at the
sky: 1t was still deep, dome-like blue,
but there were clouds stealing across 1t
that betokened storm. The wind was
veering into the northeast; we might
have bad weather at q moments notice.
At the appointed time l went up the
beach and clambered aboard the ship.
There was no one on board. | descend
ed iuto the cabin that was empty. l
climbed the stairs, and, coming again on
deck, saw Miss Graham starting across
the causeway. 1t was low tide, and the
path was above water, covered with
shells and barnacles. threw over, a
rope-adder that !. had made and hung at
the side, and helped her on boar1. She
had on a soft, white lace hat that drop
ped at the edges and looked delightfully."-
summery. Her gown was white; indeed,
the only color she wore was a gold chain
and locket that hung low about her neck.
She pointed proudly to her stout tan
walking-shoes.
81 am wiser to-day she said; much
more of a sea-woman."
l had thought once before that ha
tested fully the sense Of exploration Of
the Ship, but now I found that l had
not. Like two inquisitive children play
ing at being explorers, we ransacked
every corner of the cabin, humping the
boards for secret hiding-places, peering
into the dim recesses of the hunks. She
opened the brass-bound chest. "There
was nothing found in it?" she asked.
Nothing"
"It seems a shame. How are we ever
to find the clue If not in the chest?'
1--WE must look for it out of DOORS" 1
said. perhaps IL we wish hard enough,
the spirits of the old rovers will come
back"
So l took cushions that lay with my
painting things and made her a seat on
deck, and / lighted my pipe and told her
all had dreamed about the Ship, and
how was sure, If we only had sufficient
faith, that a man would come out of the
sea to sail her again and bring her as
fine adventures as any she had known.
"How different you are from most Of
the men l have met y she said. "Now,
you seem quite in your setting. 1t al
most makes me doubt that I'm only six
hours from town."
you're not, you're a thousand miles
from town, in another world, in another
sphere. We don't talk the language Of
town out here on the Ship; we talk
different tongue"
She shifted so that she could look over
the sea, her chin still propped In her
hand. "Talk that tongue" she said In
that little tone Of command peculiar to
her.
I talked of the sea and ships, of treas
ures hidden under the waves, OF derelicts
that foated for years without being
sighted, Of the Ancient Mariner and the
Flying Dutchman and all the thousand
and one legends Of ghost ships and their
crews. Meanwhile I watched her, took
In the dreamy lustre Of her eyes-gray
that shaded to blue-the soft brown color
OF her cheeks and brow, the curling gold
Of her hair beneath her big white hat
and the delicate little hand that pillowsd
her chin. noted the locket, oval and
fat, with her initials B. G. intertwined,
and the heavy gold links Of ths chain