Adventure Magazine Cover — page 42: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

32 “Till ——” I began; but May-sing had already mounted the wheel-box and taken the spokes into evidently practised hands. “IT manage often,” she said, with a smile that showed her tiny teeth and brought a half-hearted answering grin from all of us. ‘““Go away, men.” “Fire a shot if you need us,” said Fraser, as he turned to go. “But for ——’s sake kill somebody with it! If they rush give ’em the cannon.” At one bell there came the sound of ham- mering from the forecastle; and for the next hour I watched tensely. Sylvia Parsons in spite of persuasion had remained at her post by the ladder, and I shouted the warning to her; but there was no demon- stration by our enemies. Fraser was right—whatever their purpose, they were waiting for darkness. Mean- while we were driving forward at ten knots in an empty sea; and I figured that it wouldn’t much matter if I-kept my watch from inside the wheel-house. Before the cool which was falling on the blazing day should merge into this fatal night, I wanted to talk to May-sing. I was standing at her shoulder, looking down at the curve of her cheek, at the peep of one little golden ear from under her black hair, at her little hands on the black oak of the wheel; and yet I could say nothing. I could tell by the quiver of her shoulders that she was conscious of my nearness, yet she did not look up from ‘the card. We must have stood this for nearly an hour when I gathered myself together enough to say she must be tired. She answered with a little sigh; and I put one hand on the wheel to relieve her. I had been looking at the horizon, and my eyes were unaccustomed to the dusk in the house; so. that my fingers fell on hers, as they had in the dungeon. “‘May-sing!” said I huskily. Her hand #uttered under mine, and her breath fanned my cheek. “Vou take the wheel, Car-ter?” she said softly, as if her heart was pounding like mine. Like a ghost she slipped from between my arms, and, in a trembling voice, gave me the course. she went out into the sunshine of ine bridge and stayed out of sight on the port side for a few seconds. When sne returned, slip- ping from the light into the dusk like some bright butterfly, she was calm again. Then with quick little steps _ Adventure “There is no sign of ‘Chinamen,” she said, taking her place at my side. “I suppose mos’ likely they wait for night to kill us, Car-ter.”’ “Perhaps they’ll have to wait longer than that,” I said, trying to give my words some ring of conviction. She paused as if to think it over and then shook her head. ‘Unless maybe God come down they kill us all,” she said, quite calmly. It was funny to realize, as she spoke, that she was a Christian. “TI shall not like them to kill you, Car-ter.”’ I thought I heard in her voice something of the former tremor. “Why not?” I asked unsteadily. The horizon had changed from a line of _ gold against a blazing blue, to a dark line across a Sky of ultramarine. Soon a smoke- like mist would slip over the edge of the world toward us; then the stars would try to shine in the dying light; and then, with a sweep that would fan those stars into bright points of flame, the night would be upon us. “Why not?” I asked again. “You save my life,” said May-sing softly. ‘“‘And you mine,” I answered, “‘but now we re going to lose them again. Is thatéall?” There was a long silence. ‘““And—TI like you, Car-ter,” came the soft voice. ‘il am very bold.” “T like you, too, May-sing,’”’ I said. Her silken shoulder touched mine. “T am very bold,” she said, almost in- audibly; ‘it is the Christian school. For there the Europe girls would talk, and I could not help but listen. Do you like me much, Car-ter?”’ The mist was over the skyline; the stars were gaining ground on the sinking sun. I left the compass-card to its own de- vices, and looked at May-sing. Something about the poise of her head as she looked back at me, and the curve of her olive throat, cut my voice to a whisper. I said,“‘Very much,” but she did not hear. And then suddenly she was in my arms and I had kissed her. “Oh!” she cried. And then again, “Oh!” She made no effort to break loose; but with one hand to her lips she stared at me with wide eyes. “That is very strange,” she said at last, in a small, frightened voice. “It—is— very—strange Car-ter.”’ 4 COMicaoo® S ©