Adventure Magazine Cover — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

118 would cool themselves by entwining ser- pents about their naked bodies. Madame lay face up, motionless, with mouth slightly open. He stooped, peering closely. Her eyes were barely parted, but motionless. He spoke. He touched her, awakeningly. ‘There was not the shadow of a response. He put a hand on her fore- head—it did not seem cold. The wig was set on her head firmly; the hair coiled down in a way that concealed its falseness. “T don’t think she’s dead,’’ said Heddon, half aloud, a bit doubtful. ‘“Fainted may- be. No, she’s shamming! Not cold—” he stooped again, peering intently at her mo- tionless eyelids. “Well,” he said, speaking clearly, think- ing that if she was conscious—and he was sure that she was—this would bring about signs of life, “she must be dead to lie like this. So we’ll just take this sheet off—” he grasped the sheet by the hem as if to jerk— “carry her out, and wrap her in canvas, too!”’ He stirred the sheet. For a moment the corpse-like form did not seem to be other than a corpse; then he, watchful, detected the faintest heave of the breast. She was neither dead, in a faint, nor asleep. “All right, you win!”’ said Heddon, giving the sheet a fling, covering even her throat. “She’s wide awake, but wants us to think she’s half dead because—”’ “Monsieur, permeet that I—” Vioux a little timidly plucked at Heddon’s arm— “assist. Madame is ver’—ah—subject to ze faint, ze trance—” Heddon gave him a shove; then turned to leave the room, but he paused at the door with a backward look, and though watching Madame’s face, said to the men behind him: ‘“‘That’s her game, and she wins it! The snake got loose—she doesn’t know how. Was in a faint—long faint, since yesterday. Vioux there knew it was going to happen too. Last night he too slept indoors. Queer, but even knowing they lie, such is the power of a lie, that you can’t wring her neck as I’d come near doing if she said outright she’d turned that thing loose!’’ Heddon stepped outside the room and banged the door closed after him; then he faced about with sudden thought at Old Tom: ‘“‘_. me for a fool! Fingering that sheet didn’t make her stir— I should have put my hand to her hair. If dead, she’d have grabbed at it!” GORDON YOUNG IV T TOOK eight men, four to a side, shoulder to shoulder, to lift the hatch cover to the top of the rail, and hold it there as the bark swayed and empty sails popped with much flapping as if in protest at this mummery when a stout wind blew. Men looked at Heddon who stood bare- headed, empty-handed, his gaze broodingly on the great white long lump. There was long silence. All of the crew had their hands at the hatch cover, and the weight of it was heavy on their arms. With the rock of the bark their feet shifted unsteadily. “From the time men have gone down to the sea in ships, I would say none has had such a burial as this and none will again. It’s been my bad luck to have to stow away in deep water more than one good ship- mate, and one among the best that ever gave to the sea all the years of his life lies now over the side. And if bravery means anything to God, He and this one here are both in Heaven now, watching what we do, hearing what we say. “Aye, there’s no knowing what’s inside of a man until he’s put to the test. If he'd died of sickness, we’d have heaved him over without a yard backed or a word spoken. We called him a big square-head, and thought him just that—how could we know? And I wonder does God Himself know until the man is dead? If He does, then what’s the good of the struggles a man has to make? And if He doesn’t, then who shapes the struggles so a man has the chance to show himself worthy of Heaven—like the thief on the cross? And who puts the heart intoa man that makes him stand to a fight he knows he can’t win? And where does it come from, such blood of man as locked his fingers till the thing he fought was dead? “Not many days back, one went over the side because he didn’t have a bit of poppy gun in a pipe; and too weak to win his fight. Did he go to Hell? Godknows. And there must be a God, for the world is full of devils, and without Him they’d have every- thing their own way—more than they do. “‘Here’s one that’s done his work. And he’s taking along the old old symbol of the devil to show, as if such a tale as he’s got to tell might be doubted even there! Aye, let him go!” DOOK C©