Part 54 (2/2)

”What does that matter?” said Helen, looking down.

”Not much, indeed,” replied he, sadly. ”I am a fool to utter such childish regrets; and, more than that, I am a mean selfish cur to _have_ a regret. Come, come, we can't eat; let us go round the Point and see the waves reddened by the beacon that gives you back to the world you were born to embellish.”

Helen said she would go directly. And her languid reply contrasted strangely with his excitement. She played with her supper, and wasted time in a very unusual way, until he told her plump she was not really eating, and he could wait no longer, he must go and see how the beacon was burning.

”Oh, very well,” said she; and they went down to the beach.

She took his crutch and gave it to him. This little thing cut him to the heart. It was the first time she had accompanied him so far as that without offering herself to be his crutch. He sighed deeply, as he put the crutch under his arm; but he was too proud to complain, only he laid it all on the approaching steamboat.

The subtle creature by his side heard the sigh, and smiled sadly at being misunderstood--but what man could understand her? They hardly spoke till they reached the Point. The waves glittered in the moonlight; there was no red light on the water.

”Why, what is this?” said Hazel. ”You can't have lighted the bonfire in eight places, as I told you.”

She folded her arms and stood before him in an att.i.tude of defiance; all but her melting eye.

”I have not lighted it at all,” said she.

Hazel stood aghast. ”What have I done?” he cried. ”Duty, manhood, everything demanded that I should light that beacon, and I trusted it to you.”

Then Helen's att.i.tude of defiance melted away. She began to cower, and hid her blus.h.i.+ng face in her hands. Then she looked up imploringly. Then she uttered a wild and eloquent cry, and fled from him like the wind.

CHAPTER XLVII.

THAT cloud was really the smoke of the _Springbok,_ which had mounted into air so thin that it could rise no higher. The boat herself was many miles to the northward, returning full of heavy hearts from a fruitless search. She came back in a higher parallel of lat.i.tude, intending afterward to steer N.W. to Easter Island. The life was gone out of the s.h.i.+p; the father was deeply dejected, and the crew could no longer feign the hope they did not feel. Having pursued the above course to within four hundred miles of Juan Fernandez, General Rolleston begged the captain to make a bold deviation to the S.W., and then see if they could find nothing there before going to Easter Island.

Captain Moreland was very unwilling to go to the S.W., the more so as coal was getting short. However, he had not the heart to refuse General Rolleston anything. There was a northerly breeze. He had the fires put out, and, covering the s.h.i.+p with canvas, sailed three hundred miles S.W.

But found nothing. Then he took in sail, got up steam again, and away for Easter Island. The s.h.i.+p ran so fast that she had got into lat.i.tude thirty-two by ten A.M. next morning.

At 10h. 15m. the dreary monotony of this cruise was broken by the man at the mast-head.

”On deck there!”

”Hullo!”

”The schooner on our weather-bow!”

”Well, what of her?”

”She has luffed.”

”Well, what o' that?”

”She has altered her course.”

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