Part 36 (2/2)

”Not within miles of it. Whew! Ever see a night like this?” I had thrust my head through the open window and could see her form dimly outlined against the night.

”Used to be the usual thing, down East,” she answered. ”But we get out of the way of them, here. Get up and let's go for a swim.”

A flash of lightning revealed her in her bathing suit. I was soon out of bed and into mine.

”Beat you to the other end of the pond,” she said, as we threaded our way down the well-worn path.

”You always beat me,” I confessed. ”But I'm game; I'll try again.”

We took the water together; its comforting tide wrapped us about as we swung through it with long, easy strokes. Jean suited her pace to mine; her body was a rhythmic machine, lithe, supple, almost serpentine in its movements. Her hair was down. When a glow of distant lightning fell about us her face was ivory white, cameo-like, against the black water.

At the far end was a small beach of sand, and we drew ourselves up upon it. Jean drew her feet up tailor-wise, shook out her hair; traced idly with her fingers in the sand.

”I had a dream, Frank,” she said at length. ”I dreamed you were wrecked on a lonely island, where you seemed doomed to spend all your days. But one night when you were sleeping a nymph of the wilderness stole up and whispered something in your ear. And this is what she said: 'Go down to the beach at midnight and light a fire on the sand, and a beautiful maiden shall come up out of the sea. Take her; she is yours.'

”And you turned in your sleep and said, 'Mine--forever?' And the nymph said, 'Forever, if you will obey the law.'

”And you said, 'What law?' And the nymph said, 'The law of romance, which is the law of imagination, which is the law of beauty, which is the law of love, which is the law of life. If you are true to that law she shall be yours not only now, but forever, and this shall no longer be a lonely island, but a place called Paradise.' And then I woke up.

”That was a very wonderful dream, Jean,” I said. ”A very wonderful dream.”

”And I have been wondering, Frank,” she continued, her liquid voice dropping very low and soft, ”I have been wondering if you were to light a fire on this beach--what would happen.”

”It would be an interesting experiment,” I agreed, ”but I have no matches.”

”I have provided against that. See, on this stone are matches, and beside it wood for a fire.''

”Jean!” I exclaimed, a great light breaking about me. I extended my arms toward her; I would have rushed to her, but she evaded me in the darkness.

”Suppose you try the experiment, Frank,” she said. ”Let us see if there is anything in dreams.”

I found the stone with the matches; I struck one; its light glowed genially in my face. I found the little pile of dry wood which she had gathered together; I knelt and set my match to it. I think in that moment I felt somewhat like a G.o.d before an altar; a whiff of fragrant willow smoke filled my nostrils like incense. Then I stood up and looked around for Jean. She was gone.

My little fire crackled and burned up merrily, sending its shaft of pale blue smoke heavenward in the night. The distant clouds still heliographed each other across the sky; their flashlights blinked on the surface of our pond from time to time.

Then I sat down and tried to recall what Jean had said. ”A beautiful maiden shall come up . . . Take her. . . . She is yours--forever--if you obey the law.”

”I will--I will obey!” I breathed.

Out on the dark water glowed a phosph.o.r.escent point. It drew steadily, straight toward me. It was the ripple of white water as a silent graceful figure cleft the tide in two. Onward she came, steadily, stroke by stroke. A flash of distant lightning lit her face cameo-like against the depths behind. She had touched the sand; she drew up from the water; she stood before me. I took her in my arms.

”Dreams _do_ come true, if they're properly staged,” she said when she could speak.

THE END.

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