The herald-advance. (Milbank, S.D.) 1890-1922, 1910-06-03

I turned my eyes away before ven
turing 10 reply, yet l dared not utter
an untruth.
Two: the being picked up by some
passing vessel, or the attaining of in
habitable land"
at this season."
1T is hardly probable there are, un-
less it should be some whaler blown
from her course around the Horn"
Then our only practical hope lies
in reaching land by our own efforts?"
She leaned forward, her hand touching
mine as it grasped the tiller, her earn
Yes"
"How-how far away Is this land?"
l hesitated, actually afraid myself
to speak the answer, but her hand
clasp merely frightened.
please tell me. II wish to know
the very worst. Such knowledge will
be easier to bear than this awful
doubt"
But / hardly know myself" l con
fessed desperately. II have had no
observation for several days, and can
only guess the rate of progress Of the
Sea Queen, or our drift during the
storm. l will be perfectly honest with
you, though, and give you my best
judgment. l believe We must be be-
tween four and five hundred miles to
the east and north of Dougherty is
land, and not yet beyond the limit of
drift ice. There would be no use in
our attempting to turn back for that
point of land, as it is nothing but a
rock, and we could never find it by the
mere guidance of a compass. Our only
chance is to bear away to the north
ships"
How far? What land?"
"The western coast of South Amer
lea; at least 1900 miles"
l felt her shudder, and scarcely re-
alizing that l did so. or the signifi-
canoe of the action, impelled by an
impulse beyond all control, | drew her
hand within both my own as though
in pledge of protection.
1T can be DONE" l insisted. "Such
boat voyages have been accom-
plished."
She made no effort to draw away.
her eyes still upon mine.
mot through such a sea as this.
not at this season of the year"
I could not answer, my lips dry, my
throat parched.
"You know the utter hopelessness
of it," she went on, stimulated by my
silence. You know we can never
survive the cold, the closing in of the
ice, the certainty Of storm. You are
a sailor. and a brave man-trust me
with the whole truth"
ut would be almost a miracle" l fall
tered, the words fairly forced from
my lips by her insistence. This is
the beginning Of winter in the storm
lest ocean on the globe. God could
do it, but not man"
Her head sank, the white cheek
touching my sleeve, but the fearless
gray eyes were still open, gazing
straight into mine.
Then it is the certainty of DEATH
she said soberly. Death together"
My heart leaped as though 1t had
received an electric shock.
Together! you mean"
THAT should rather be here, facing
death with you, than anywhere else
alone" she exclaimed swiftly. "Oh,
| can say it frankly now; say it here
before you and God; say it in all
purity and honor. Perhaps tonight,
perhaps tomorrow, somewhere amid
this awful waste of waters we will go
together into eternity. What are the
| dictates Of men to us now? What
meaning is there any longer to the
hideous requirements of the world?
We are beyond them all. Here, now,
we a be ourselves, ourselves. To-
night we are free; tonight l can hear
you speak what l have already read in
your eyes, and am not afraid to hear
it."
"You-you love me?"
with all my heart and SOUL"
With everything else blotted cut,
with all else forgotten, l sat speech
less. gazing down through the mist CT
tears into her eyes.