The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 234: what you’re looking at

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

230 from her father, but she led me on with questions, and the others, well inclined to forget their own despondency, gath- ered round, and occasionally took part in the conversation. It was after midnight when the girl desisted and bade us good-night. “That girl,” said Foster, as he drew a dcep breath and strode across the deck and back again, “1s the marvel of this party. Don’t you suppose she knows the danger we are in?” “As well as we do,” said Ross. * Mary Donaldson, » 1 told them, “1s the noblest and bravest girl I ever knew. She is simply trying to encourage us. Here we are five men, all filled with anxiety and losing hope, and one girl can show us fortitude and courage.” ‘“'That’s so,” said Foster. “1 do be- lieve she is trying to nerve us up.” “Oh, what’s the use?” asked Ross. “ Let’s sing ‘ Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep.’ » “Shut up,” walked away. Gradually, one by one, they left, and I, who could not sleep, remained alone. We were hungry. During that day we had not eaten enough for a single meal. ] knew Mary Donaldson must feel as we did. In an hour Donaldson came to me. “ Bayne,’ he said, and his voice trembled as though he would break down, “J am in trouble. 1 have made a discov ery.” “What is it?” I asked. “ Mary has: fainted.” “Fainted! Good God! Was it fear?” “No. I heard her moaning, and went to her. The others are asleep. I asked her what the trouble was. Can you guess what she confessed to me?” “Tler terror of what is to come?” I asked. “No, God bless the girl,” he said. “ She has no fear of the hereafter. She has no fear of death, but she has eaten nothing all day.’ “ Baten nothing all day!” I repeated, in a sort of stupor. “Why not?” “ She knew there was little food, and she knew how despondent we were.. She refrained from eating to leave more for 39 us. “ Great God!” said Foster, and he THE ARGOSY. I tramped that deck with feelings that cannot be described. The love I bore Mary could not at that time, I reasoned, be honorably mentioned. I came back to Donaldson. “I wanted to say something to you, Bayne, while we were alone,” he said. * Yes,” I answered. “J wanted to tell you, Bayne—I don't know how to put it—but you know, Bayne, we are not likely to live” long.” * “Oh, I don’t take so gloomy a view of it as that,” I said. “ “The breeze is hable to come any minute.” “This is a region of long calms,” he continucd. “I fear that this one has just begun. But I wanted to tell you, - Bayne, this is in confidence—lI like you —that Mary loves you.” ‘“ Mary—loves—me! ” “ Yes. I have suspected it long ago. I saw that all three of you were hon- orable. Not one of vou has tried to make any advances to her save the fricudship that would naturally result from a life on the island. But I know she loves you, Bayne.” “T love her, Mr. Donaldson; but I was not going to sav a word to her until she had-seen the world and was com- petent to choose for herself among the many men she must meet.” “That’s it. That’s what I want to speak about. I am old, and am not even as strong as I was before I was injured. You know as well as I do that if we do not get a breeze soon, starvation will be our fate. Being old and feeble, I can- not hope to hold out as long as you. { want to ask that in case—in ‘case—I die and vou survive—you will take good eare of Mary.” “Mr. Donaldson,” I said, “if we live, and Mary will be my wife, Pll be the happiest man alive.” “ P'm glad,” he said. “ I was anxious. You know she would never do to tackle the world alone. I think she is con- sclons now. Will vou come and see her?” “T will,” I answered, and I followed him through the cabin where the rest lay in a troubled, hungry sleep. “| gave her some wine,” whispered the. anxious father. “There is not much left. But I took some.” ECOMRRIC OG SS Colin