Mexico Missouri message., 1910-10-06

sounded with the cries Of men scaling
its heights, crashing through its cop
pices, calling a name, beseeching an
answer. Two days before great ships
had drifted idly under its lee. It had
been the center and focus OF great
events. Now It lay desolate, alone.
On that morning the tide which had
drawn away from it through the long
night had turned and was coming
back. The force Of the water spent
itself upon the barrier. Within the
lagoon it lay placid, rising gently inch
by inch in mighty overflow. A watcher,
had there been one, would have seen
at sunrise the still water Of the Ia
goon broken by q ripple, a keen eye
might have noticed at the base of the
cliff where it ran sheer down into the
blue, dark object moving beneath the
surface. The eye could scarcely have
become aware of its presence before
the waters parted. A little splash and
a head rose dark crowned, white faced.
There was a sidewise wave and shake
Of the head and pair Of eyes opened.
The blue of the water was lightened
by flashes of white arms. AS the
body rose higher under the impetus Of
strokes, vigorous yet graceful, it
could be seen that it was that Of
woman.
With ease and grace the figure
swan along the base of the cliff until
it was Joined by jutting spit of sand
which widened and widened into
great strip of beach that ran around
the island. Upon this sand presently
the Swallowing of the water gave the
swimmer a foothold. Progress ceased.
With eyes haggard, yet keenly alert,
the sea, the shore, the beach, the
cliffs, the trees were eagerly searched.
The long glances revealed nothing.
Then the head was turned and the ear
listened for sounds and heard nothing.
The look of apprehension faded into
one of dull relief.
Walking now, the woman in the
water made her way toward the sand.
Very white she cleaned in the full
warm light streaming from the risen
sun against the background of the
dark black rock. The water dripping
from her exquisitely graceful limbs,
she looked a very nymph of the sea as
she stepped out at last above the high
tide line and stood poised as II for
fight upon the hard and solid shore.
Again she threw about her that quick,
apprehensive look. Again she paused
to listen. Reassured in that she heard
and saw nothing but the birds song,
the winds sigh, the waves splash, she
ran swiftly toward a blacker opening
in the dark rock. She cleaned whittier
still In the entrance for moment
and then disappeared. She came forth
presently still unclothed, look of
disappointment on her face.
She had many things to do, much
to occupy her mind, but the first duty
that lay to her hand and the first in
stinct which she followed was that
her nakedness should be covered.
Still warily watchful, still keenly
alert, still fearful apparently of inter-
ruption or observation, she ran across
the beach, her movement as free, as
graceful, as rapid as she had been
Atalanta herself, and disappeared un-
der the trees. The whirr of birds dis
turbed might have marked her pass
age.
After some time sne appeared on
the top of the high bare hill that
crowned the island. She had impro-
vised for herself covering out of
three or four great fern leaves, soft
and pliable, which she fastened with
palm fibers from shoulder to knee on
either side, her bare shoulders rising
from the rich greenness like white
corolla from its verdant calyx She
went more assuredly, now, party be-
cause Of the fact that she was clothed
and partly because her first rapid sur
vey Of the horizon revealed the fact
that the ships were gone. She was
glad that this was so, and yet when
the realization came upon her, she
flung herself down on the grassy crest
and gave way to voieeless agony.
Sometimes there is nothing 80 ter
rible, she realized, as prayer granted,
as desire accomplished, as undertak-
ing brought to conclusion. The aW-
fulness of success was upon her in
that hour Her ruse had worked. Her
object had been attained, yet the
achievement gave her no pleasure.
Her own acts had parted her irreV-
ocably forever from the world and
the one man in it who was the world
for her. He was gone. She who had
made him had sent him forth among
his fellows. She had sacrificed her
self, buried herself alive for him. She
felt as a mother might who expert
ences birth pangs and knows that
with every throb of tearing anguish
her own life ebbs away, passes into
the new life which she ushers into the
world aud gives to men.
She had long hours for thought in
those two days in that cave whose
mouth the waters hid. She had
schooled herself to face light and life
without him when she emerged from
her cunning hiding place, She had