Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-06-12

tn HERE were push-out shutters
49, e"Sund the little house,
ana within the oblong of every
Il one i different picture was
france Enormous spaces of
celadon-blue seN, islands of pyramid
shape paintec in flaming greens,
masses of crotor :olored like the burn
ing bush of Mosas. the tops of palms
flashing heliogr3 n messages to other
palms far off. slopes of tall kurukuru
grass, sea AMI more sea again.
From thiG Ss.Aau bungalow, set high
to catch the wlfh:s. ecu could look out
across incredible spaces; could feel as
on the beaches below you never could
have felt. that sense of the map and
of your own position on it that comes
now and then to stretch a mans mind
and make him pleasantly uncomfort-
able.
Lying on her cane lounge in the
middle Of the room where it was cool
est, Suzanne Pltimmer could not see
out Of the windows. She did not want
to see out. She wanted to stay very
quiet, with a glass jug of water al her
elbow, to feel the little breeze from
the mountain blow down across her
forehead; to see, unseeingly, her
small, beautiful feet in their white
shoes lying motionless in front of her
on the red cushions Of the lounge
from dawn till dusk. and the frost
like laces of her dress stir and fall.
stir and fall, across her helpless knees
while she drifted, painlessly, quietly,
out into the dark.
There was an old native woman to
give her drink from time II time; to
bring her now and then "a glass
little dark drops that smep ST peoples
and of sleep. Suzanne fad all she
wanted, if she were permitted so
much. She. once famous by her nick
name of Blackeyed Susan on stages
of cheap halls" in gold mining camps
of Australia, in Sydney's gayest night
hotels; she who had been hung with
jewels and could have bathed in cham
pagne-she asked nothing now but
the water and the quiet, and the dark
drops of Oblivion that. between them,
were helping her painlessly down the
road from which there is no returning.
And she could not have them much
longer-not long enough, it might be,
for the coming of the slow, certain
end.
Since dawn a dark cloud had how
cred over Compass Island, so named
because of the spurs that projected
almost north, south. east and west
from it's central mountain. The heat |
hour, the breeze dying down or com |
ing in sudden gusts that made the
shutters swing and slam and set |
afioat the laces on SuZanne's gown.
Under the house, at times deep down.
YOU could hear a strange, disquieting
noise like the boiling Of some enor-
nous kettle. From the distant top of
the island there came once and again
a shot that shook the house and sent
the china flying from the shelves.
Then there would be quiet for hours,
and then the sinister boiling and the
shots would recommence.
n X X y
COMPASS was playing up"
She had not played up, now, for
more than a generation; there was no
body left alive who had seen the small
pyramids" spat forth-two islands
living half a mile from the mainland,
out at sea.
She Ia volcano is always feminine, /
among people who live near burning |
nnountainsD had lain quiet, almost cool, /
for all that time; and natives had butt
villages, and traders and recruiters
had called in the palm-circled bay
below. without let or hindrance from
the barren cone that topped the green
cry Of Compass Island.
After, had come the gold discovery,
the rush from Australia and New Tea
land, the working out of the little, rich
field, and it's abandonment. And, all
the time, tall Compass had held her
peace. And people had said. as in like
case they commonly do say, that she
was burned out, done.