The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1923-03-11

the MeQlLe1Eane8ms lEuubS 3AAu
cries followed each sword slash.
The wavering darkness was = mem
ace, forcing him to strike and
parry partly By instinct. Knives
clicked against the sword steel A
man with cleft skull went down
right before his feet. The pres
sure Of them was like great
weight bearing upon his dripping
blade.
Blackness sudden and NUT
fling, and above the tapering,
plunging mast the infinite fields Of
stars. The last unsteady torch
had burned itself out. Or had
crashed to the deck as the last
torch bearer sagged at the knees
and fell forward.
FIRE. mans shout this time.
The murderous scuffle in the
dark broke up IS abruptly IS i
had begun. Evan found himself
unopposed, his chest heaying and
the muscles 81 his sword arm
quivering with fatigue. Now that
the barrier Of struggling bodies
had dissolved he saw light ii the
darkness the expiring flicker ct
the ere basket and red, fiuctuant
glow thrown upward from the open
hatch. The sound - well g the
smell Of burning came with the
wind.
ssFirel Fire!'
Dim figures shambled frantically
hither and thither. There was !
rafting and dragging Of linked
metal, for many were still en-
numbered with their ankle-rings
and chains.
Are you hurt
No not much. GOdss I'm
thirsty r
He turned back into the pitchy
cabin. A stoppered gourd hung
near the unlighted lantern. He
CROPPED for Il and drank deeply.
Cassandra stood very near him.
He was more wonderful than
Achilles than al the heroes Of
the Age Of Gold.
Evan there's blood On you'll!
Not my own. !"
II was his own. Several knives
had grazed him. but he had not
been conscious of il and felt no
hurt.
"The ships burning it's too
late to save her. TN cut the helm
free and stand In TO the coast.
There's q bare chance
ssFirel Help! HeIpl Firel,
IT was the crazy scream Of
woman girl.
Evan lifted Cassandra on her
feet and she curved an arm about
his neck. He lowered his head
and passed out Of the cabin, avoid
ing the dead man at the threshold.
They were on the lurching deck.
The glare from the hatch was
stronger. 1t illumlned, strangely,
the bulge of the sail. No one
molested them. Those men who
were not unconscious from excess
Of wine seemed paralyzed. The
screamer Clytie lay on her face
and beat the deck with her fists.
She was historical.
Under the faint starlight Evan
severed the lashings Of the helm
with his bloody sword. The wind
had shifted a trife, blowing in
shore rather than directly down
the coast, so, as the little galley
answered to her freed helm, the
sail caught the full strength Of it
and tautened until the mast
seemed to tremble. The galley
staggered, dipped. Foam like
white fire boiled up beneath the
PROV as though the fish tails of
sea creatures were flashing il into
a smother.
1t was unreal-possessing the
quality of an extraordinary dream,
or of some tragic, ancient event,
the sonorous theme of poets. Cas-
sandra knelt on the steering plat
form, comering down out of the
winds way against the knees of
Evan, who stood erect, his hand
upon the helm. The ship, whose
hold had become a furnace, fled
before the wind like a slipped
hound, driving into the great dark
where waited the wrecking shall
lows of an unknown coast. It was
a race against the gods of destruc-
ton whose chariot horses were
devouring fire.
Forward of the mast the deck
was burning now. The cowed
rowers and slave women had
crowded to the stern, budding be.
low the steering platform. Those
of them that were inert were
dragged or carried by their com
panions. They were human again
they were something more thar
pngnacious or lustful animals. A
bearded, bear-like fellow, low
browed and hairy, bore to safety
the limp, wine-drugged body OF
the Jewish lad and then staggered
across the already cracking planks
with an unconscious girl athwar1