The Richmond climax. (Richmond, Ky.) 1897-1914, 1911-12-20

clin where II ran sheer down into the
blue, a 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 AID 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 a
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 a
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 If for
fight upon the hard ard 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 a moment
and then disappeared. She came forth
presently still unclothed. a 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
ATLANTA herself, and disappeared I'M
der the trees. The whifr Of birds dis
turbed might have marked her pass
age.
After some time she appeared on
the top of the high bare hill that
crowned the island. She had impro-
vised for herself a 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
corolia 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 we're gene. 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 voiceless agony.
Sometimes there is nothing so ter
rible. she realized, as prayer granted.
as desire accomplished, as undertak-
ing brought to conclusion. TIE 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 mother might who expert
enees birth pangs and knows that
with every throb of tearing anguish
her own life GIBBS 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
sehooled herself to face light and life
without him when she emerged from
her cunning hiding place. She had
waited the long period in order to
make absolutely certain that they
would be gone. And yet, despite her
self, little CLEAN of hope, bare pos
sibility that he might be there still,
had fingered in her soul and leavened
the awfulness of her grief. Now it
was gone. 1t had sunk beneath the
horizon even as the ships had disap-
peared. She had been bitter against
him. Her soul had revolted because
he had failed. She had told herself
that he was not worthy Of her. She
forgot these things in that profound
and desolate moment She knew only
that she loved him. When she could
think of other things than he, the
mere bodily presence Of the man, the
look of him, the sound Of his voice,
the pressure of his lips. the clasp OF
his arms, she began to realize that as
he grew older, unless she was so alb
solutely mistaken in him as to make
all estimate of him mockery, he would
realize the falsity of his view, the lit
ueness of his action, and II he were in
truth the man whom she could rightly
love, his years would be one long re-
greet that he had failed What would
happen when he realized that. when
he came to the knowledge that she
was indeed all that she had seemed
and that he had been nothing that he
should? She knew, as she had writ
ten, that the man would never, could
never, forget her; that wherever he
went and whatever he did, she would
be present with him; that she had
stamped herself too indelibIy upon his
heart for any attrition with humanity,
however close and persistent, to erase
the image. He would come back per-
haps.
20 Godi" she kneIs down and
stretched out her arms, bring him
bach" she prayed-a few short, brok-
en- words, lacking the eloquence Of
long and studied petition, the appeal
OF the heart every throb OF which is
a prayer-"bring him back to mel"
She thought that she would have
had him back on any terms. She said
that she had been mad, a fool, not to
have taken him. not to have gone to
him, not to have married him in any
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