The Adventures of a Modest Man. Chambers Robert William
TWO
"11.30 a. m.
"Dear Jim – Everything is spoiled, after all! Father's failing health has suddenly become a serious matter, and we are going to try the 'nature cure,' or whatever they call it, at Avalon Island. I had no idea he was really ill. Evidently he is alarmed, for we have only been here six days, and in a few minutes we are to start for Avalon. Isn't it perfectly horrid? And to think that you are coming this evening and expecting to find us here!
"Father says you can't come to Avalon; that only invalids are received (I didn't know I was one, but it seems I'm to take the treatment, too!), and he says that nobody is received for less than a month's treatment, so I suppose that bars you even if you were self-sacrificing enough to endure a 'nature cure' for the pleasure of spending two weeks with [me, crossed out] us.
"I'm actually on the verge of tears when I think of all we had planned to do together! And there's my maid at the door, knocking. Good-by. You will write, won't you?
"Dear Catharine – Your father was right: they refuse to take me at Avalon. As soon as I found your note I telegraphed to Avalon for accommodations. It seems Avalon is an island, and they have to wait for the steamers to carry telegrams over from the mainland. So the reply has just reached me that they won't take me for less than a month; and my limit from business is two weeks or give up my position with your father.
"Yesterday I came out here to Holy Cross Spring to shoot ducks. I'd scarcely begun shooting, at dawn, when along came a couple of men through the fog, rowing like the mischief plump into my decoys, and I shouted out, 'What the deuce are you about?' and they begged my pardon, and said they had thought the point unoccupied, and that the fog was thicker than several things – which was true.
"So I invited them into the blind to – oh, the usual ceremony – and they came, and they turned out to be Jack Selden – the chap I told you about who was so decent to me in Paris – and his guide.
"So we had – ceremonies – several of them – and Selden stayed to shoot with me over my decoys, and our bag was fifty-three, all big duck except fifteen bluebills.
"Selden is a godsend to me. We're going to stay out here to-night at the lighthouse, and shoot all to-morrow if it doesn't blow too hard. It's blowing great guns now. I'm here in the lighthouse, writing in the glow of a lamp in the keeper's living-room, with his good little wife sewing by the fire and a half-dozen of his kids tumbling about on the floor. It's a pretty sight; I love children and firesides and that sort of thing. They've got hold of Selden now, and are making him tell stories of adventure. He's been all over the world, and is perfectly crazy to get married. Says he would prefer a widow with yellow hair and blue eyes. Do you know any? He's a nice chap."
"Catharine, I wish I were in Avalon. They could put me in a strait-jacket and I wouldn't care as long as [you were, crossed out] I could be with [you, crossed out] your father and you in Avalon.
"It's growing late, and Selden and I should be on the ducking-grounds to-morrow before dawn. The keeper's wife says it will blow too hard, but Selden only smiles. He's a cool one, and if he has the nerve to go out I'll go, too.
"With sincere regards to your father and every wish for his speedy recovery, I remain
"Catharine – I think this is the end. Selden and I have been blown out to sea in a rowboat, and it's leaking. I only want to say good-by. Telegraph Selden's mother, Lenox, Massachusetts. I have nobody to notify. Good-by.
"Don't run any risks. Be careful for our sakes. Terrible storm on the coast reported here. Wire me that you are safe.
"Why don't you telegraph us? Your silence and the reports of the storm alarm us. Reply at once.
"Wire Catharine, Jim. You surely were not ass enough to go out in such a storm.
"For pity's sake telegraph to me that you are safe. I cannot sleep.
"Miss Catharine Delancy:
"Rowboat containing Mr. Harroll and Mr. Selden blown out to sea. Search-boats returned without finding any trace of them.
"Caswell:
"Charter a fast ocean-going tug and as many launches as necessary. Don't give up the search. Spare no expense. Check mailed to you to-day.
"I will give ten thousand dollars to the man who rescues James Harroll. You may draw on me for any amount necessary. Keep me constantly informed of your progress by wire.
In from the open sea drifted the castaways, the sun rising in tropic splendor behind them, before them a far strip of snowy surf edging green shores.
Selden sat in the bow, bailing; Harroll dug vigorously into the Atlantic with both oars; a heavy flood-tide was doing the rest. Presently Selden picked up the ducking-glass and examined the shore.
Harroll rested his oars, took a pull at the mineral water, and sighed deeply. "Except for the scare and the confounded leak it's been rather amusing, hasn't it?" he said.
"It's all right… Hope you didn't set that farewell message afloat."
"What message?"
"Oh – I thought I saw you scribbling in your notebook and – "
"And what?"
"And stick the leaf into the bottle of gun-oil. If I was mistaken, kindly give me my bottle of gun-oil."
"Pooh!" said Harroll. "The storm was magnificent. Can't a man jot down impressions? Open a can of sardines, will you? And pass me the bread, you idiot!"
Selden constructed a sandwich and passed it aft. "When we near those ducks," he said, "we'd better give them a broadside – our larder's getting low. I'll load for us both."
He fished about among the cartridge-sacks for some dry shells, loaded the guns, and laid them ready.
"Bluebills," observed Harroll, as the boat drew near. "How tame they are! Look, Selden! It would be murder to shoot."
The boat, drifting rapidly, passed in among the raft of ducks; here and there a glistening silver-breasted bird paddled lazily out of the way, but the bulk of the flock floated serenely on either side, riding the swell, bright golden eyes fearlessly observing the intruders.
"Oh, a man can't shoot at things that act like that!" exclaimed Selden petulantly. "Shoo! Shoo – o!" he cried, waving his gun in hopes that a scurry and rise might justify assassination. But the birds only watched him in perfect confidence. The boat drove on; the young men sat staring across the waves, guns idly balanced across their knees. Presently Harroll finished his sandwich and resumed the oars.
"Better bail some more," he said. "What are you looking at?"