The San Francisco call., 1909-02-14


weight of change into his pocket; an
oversight which not only won him the
awestruck admiration of the cabby,
but entailed consequences Gt may be-
he little apprehended. 1t was with an
absent minded nod that he acquiesced
in the mans announcement that he
might arrange about the boat for him.
Accordingly the cabby disappeared, and
Kirkwood continued to stare about him,
eagerly, hopefully.
He stood on the brink of the Thames
estuary, there a possible five miles
from shore to shore; from his feet, al
most, a broad shingle beach sloped
gently to the water.
On one hand a dilapidated picket
fence inclosed the dooryard of fish
erman's cottage, or, better, hovel-if 1t
need be accurately described-at the
door of which the cabby was knocking.
The morning was now well advanced.
The sun rode high, a sphere of tar
nished flame in a void of silver gray,
its thin. cold radiance striking pallid
sparks from the 1eaping crests of wind
whipped waves. In the east a wall of
vapor, dull and lusterless, had taken
body since the dawn, masking the
skies ana shutting down upon the sea
like some vast cuttain, and out Of the
heart of this a bitter and vicious wind
played like a sword.
To the north Shoeburyness loomed
vaguely, like low drifted bank Of
cloud. Off to the right the north light
ship danced, a tiny heck of warm GRIM
son in wilderness of salty blue wa
ters, plumed with myriad Of vanish
ing whitecaps.
Up the shelving shore small, puny
wavelets dashed in impotent fury, and
the shingle sang increasingly its dreary,
ferI Z,
a few dingy boats lay canted wearily
upon their broad swelling sides-a cou-
pie of dories, apparently in daily use;
a small sloop yacht, dismantled and
plainly beyond repair, and an oyster
smack also out of commission. About
them the beach was strewn with a lit
ter of miscellany-nets, oars. cork
buoys, bits of wreckage and driftwood,
a few fish too long forgotten and Gone
assumed) responsible in part for the
foreign wealth of the atmosphere
Some little distance off shore fish
ing boat, cat rugged and not more than
20 feet over all, swung bobbing at her
mooring, keen nose searching into the
wind at sight of which Kirkwood gave
thanks, for his adventitious guide had
served him well if that boat were to
be hired by any manner of persuasion.
But it was to the farther reaches of
prolonged and most anxious heed,
scanning narrowly what shipping
was there to be seen. Far be-
yOnd the lightship a liner was riding
the waves with serene contempt, max
ing for the rivers mouth and Tilbury
dock. Nearer in, a cargo boat was
standing out upon the long trail, the
white of riven waters showing clearly
against her unclean freeboard. Out to
a nf aoly-
red sails well reefed. were scudding
before the wind like strange affrighted
waterfowl and bearing down past a
heavy laden river barge. The latter,
with tarpaulin battened snugly down
over the cockpit and the seas dashing
over her washboaFd until she seemed
under water half the time, was forging
stodgily Londonward. her bargee at
the tiller smoking a placid pipe.
But a single sailing vessel of any
notable tonnage was in sight; and when
he saw her Kirkwood's heart became
buOyant with hope, and he began 10
tremble with nervous eagerness. For
he believed her to be the Alethea.
There's no mistaking a ship brigan-
tine rugged for any other style of craft
that sails the seas.
From her position when first he saw
her, Kirkwood could have fancied she
was tacking' out of the mouth of the
Midway; but he judged that, leaving
the Thames mouth, she had tackled to
starboard until well nigh within hail
Of Sheerness. Now, having presumably
gone about, she was standing out to-
ward the More boring doggedly into
the wind. He would have given a deal
for glasses whereWith to read the name
upon her bows, but was sensible of no
hampering doubts; nor, had he harbored
any, would they have deferred him. He
had set his heart upon the winning of
his venture, had come too far, risked
far too much, to suffer anything now
to stay his hand and stand between
him and Dorothy Calendar. Whatever
the further risks and hazards, though
he should take his life in his hands to
win to her side, he would struggle on.
He rocked nothing Of personal danger
a less selfish passion ran molten In his
veins, moving him to madness.
Fascinated, he fixed his gaze upon
the reeling brigantine. ana for space
it was as If by longing he had pro-
jected his spirit to her slanting deck
and were there. pleading his case with
the mistress of his heart
Voices approaching brought him back
to shore. He turned, resuming his mask
of sanity, the better TO confer with the
owner Of the cottage and boats-a
heavy, keen, eyed fellow, ungracious
and truculent or habit, and chary OF
his words, as he promptly demon
strated.
I'll hire your boat" Kirkwood told
him, ito put me aboard that brigantine
off to leeward. We ought to start al
once"
The fisherman shifted his quid OF
tobacco from cheek to cheek, grunted
inarticulately, and swung deliberately
on his heel, displaying a bull neck
above a pair Of heavy shoulders.
DIRTY weather" he scroaked, facing
back from his survey of the eastern
skies before the American found out
whether or not he should resent his
insolence.
How much?" Kirkwood demanded
curtly, annoyed.
The man hesitated, scowling blackly
at the heeling vessel, momentarily In
creasing her distance from shore. Then
with a crafty smile, Two pound" he
declared.
The American nodded. Very well,
he agreed simply. Get your boat"
The fisherman turned away to sham
BILE noisily over the shingle, huge
booted heels crunching, toward one OF
the dories. To this he set his shoulder
showing 1t steadily down the beach
until only the stern was dry.
Kirkwood looked back, for the last