A ROMANCE OF THE SEAS

Evening Star, Issue 20061, 29 December 1928, Page 11

A ROMANCE OF THE SEAS

[All Rights Reserved.] [By Elizabeth Hargreaves.] This sort of story sounds incredible, yet most arresting, really vital; true things generally do. It would be possible to prove facts, however, if Seanmas Shand could he found. This feat could doubtless he accomph'shed by anyone who roamed all seas, save possibly the Arctic (Scumas loved the heat too well to yearn for Polar regions), and went on roaming for any length of time, till one day Seumas in nis craft was sighted. It is best to call his boat a craft, though it was of extremely meagre tonnage ; it was a peculiar and unusual sea vehicle indeed. Seumas loved it well, and had done so faithfully for some odd fifteen years. Ho was about fifty when ho took the trip with the murderess, which he declared was the most enjoyable adventure he had ever shared. By odd chance ho was alone at the time, and, for him, quite near what ho would have called home. “ Homo ” was any land whore speech was spoken which lie understood, or where he had friends. The sea was to him relatives, love career, pastime, and ahibition. This being so, he displayed common sense and abode thereon. Not one man in a million ever sacrifices all worldly hope and disdains the accruing of mere wealth for happiness’s sake, and very few for that of , love.

Soninas, however did so, and was, in consequence, well pleased with life. He was quite aware that all the people who had known him earlier called him mad. “Poor devils” was what - he considered them. So the affair was fairly balanced. He was off tbo Azores when ho met his murderess; to be exact, he was on an island, frying bacon. Tho Voyager was lying some way out. Soumas know the exact spot, though ho gazed once or twice at her fondly through Hie glasses lie took from the bottom of the stout dinghy,' together with the frying pan, bacon, tea, butter, and broad. Ho bad lowed ashore tho evening before, because his man had developed a light-headedness which Seupias thought to be the forerunner of bad fever. He bad brought Williapi in accordingly, and stowed him away in a friendly cottage, and he intended to cruise about until such time as William should be restored to health and able to rejoin him.

It was a radiant early morning._ The sun had still a touch of silver in its glitter, and the sea mist had not quite rolled away; it blew over the waves with a tantalising veil,, and then danced back again. Seumas was anxious to be aboard again, or on the sea; anyway, off from land.

His eyes detected a shadow on the mist .suddenly; ho turned tho bacon carefully sniffed it with relish, and then caught nn his glass. The mist at that moment curtsied, as if in answer to his inquiring courtesy, and he had a clear and uninterrupted vision of a i sheet of swaying pearltinted loveliness. Ho attended to the bacon, again, which was nearly done, and on glancing up saw the shadow had become reality. He lifted the frying pan tenderly just off the fire, and then focussed the reality. A yacht, as graceful and beautiful a tiling as you please, was drifing like a dream out of the arms of the dawn.

Soninas drank in her glory ol line, and sighed over her movement, which was not inspired by the wind of heaven, but by the exact and not overdone action, judging by the size of the yacht, of somewhat highly-powered engines. He could make her out well through his excellent glass; he noted the frippery and nonsense which he abhorred—blinds, awnings, a mass of truck no lover of the sea could ever tolerate. He supposed women were aboard. Ho was about to lower the bacon for a final frizzle when he aentaily dropped the pan—simply let it lull into tho leaping flames, and clutched his glass with both hands. Things wore happening on the yacht. iSuumas’s lips moved against each other in a quick, muttered oath of wild amazement.

Ho saw the yacht’s deck nntenanted ono moment, and the next he saw two figures, and then lie saw a white bandage or wrap suddenly obscure ono man’s head entirely, and a second later, with hands outspread, palely gloaming in the keen, bright light, a form cleaved a way through the air, and cleaved a helpless, _ resistless way into the dawn-lit, rocking sea. And at that moment the mist fell again. Soninas gave a great cry, am! though at the back of his mind he knew the hopelessness of hs action, its utter futility, he sprang forward and thrust the dinghy down the sloping shore, and out into the sea, and sprang into it and rowed like a maniac out towards the Voyager. She was some way out; the anchorage was not very sure nearer in. He rowed like one possessed, bending oyer the oars with dripping, congested face and cracking chest. His boat leaped across the waves like a living thing. There was no breath in him when ho reached the Voyager, ho heaved himself aboard untterly spent and done, and yet managed, from long mechanical rise, to make fast the dinghy and set sail. The mist was still between him and the white yacht; but he knew his course, his eyes at sea were as good as many v slow man’s compass.

He slid away into the soft suntouched mist, and then, when it folded hijn, held him, he realised with dismay his own utter helplessness. He could do no more than he could have done had he stayed on laud. The Voyager rocked softly, the waves hit the sides with a soft, silky slap, the morning wind blew clean and chill, and out there, beyond the mist veil, a man might still bo struggling for his last breath of life.

Seurnas stood, gripping the glass, impotent anger fib his own powerlessness shaking him fie r cely. And then, in one breath it seemed, the mist rolled back, and the gleaming sea, free and wide, Jay before him. It was empty. No yacht showed near or far; no bandaged human head was displayed and then hidden by the tossing waves. Seumas sailed wildly about the spot, round and round it; he had come too late. “ But, by God, I’ll go after ’em! ” he told himself savagely. It was brilliant morning by this time, hot and clear. The wind blew warm across Seummas’s face as he guided the Voyager along. The second wall of mist which curled back as he sped on told him why he had found the sea so empty when it had allowed him first free vision. The yacht he was pursuing had made off behind its shelter. Of course, it was a mad idea for him to go in pursuit, but he had the hope that the boat bo wanted might run into port somewhere and he might pick up news of her from some passing ship. But all day long he saw no other craft. ,

Night found him creeping along doggedly, with about as much chance of beating anything quicker than a trawler as a seagull has of laying out an eagle. Still on he went, and the moon came up and the stars filled the sea and sky. Seumas apparently went to sleep—and no wonder—and awoke to find himself heading straiglß for a light, and very conscious that in his eager pursuit he had forgotten about such tilings as lights altogether Ho was about to rectify this unfortunate error when something obscured the light he saw; either someone passed before it or something else was held m front of it. It gleamed out an instant later and shone upon a tangled gleam of white and dark colour.

“It’s a hobby with people getting thrown overboard in these seas,” Seuraas told himself gaspingly. At any rate, he was handy this tune; the liglit was drawing away swifter every second. He got into the dinghy and rowed towards the white blur that showed against the dark sea. The moon came out from behind a cloud suddenly, and he saw, very distinctly, an upraised faco._ it seemed to him as if it were a fabled sea for an instant, and* the events a vicious dream of a disordered brain; then, very clearly, he heard the sound of struggling breath _ that was human and real and despairing. “I’m coming!” he yelled, ms he pulled still nearer. Even then ho thought he had come too late, and ho nearly saciificed his own life in his violent effort of help. He was a strong man, but the weight of a sea-soaked human being is no inconsiderable thing. The dinghy nearly capsized as ho heaved and swore and ineffectually strained. . Even when ho had got a grip at last ho nearly lost it when he realised that he had hold of a woman’s hair. It clung over his wrist, wrapped itself round, and quite unconsciously he used that wet shining strand as a lever. Perhaps the agonising wrench brought back the womaids consciousness. She opened her eyes and said rpiito clearly in Spanish; “ X have killed him, thanks ho to God! ”

“The devil you have,” Seninas muttered exhanstedly as at last he got tho limp, helpless body aboard. He himself half lay, half sat in tho stern, his wrenched wrists burning and aching, every bone and muscle in his body protesting at tho vast labour ho had imposed on themMe was done; ho had to lie still, despite his anxiety about the girl be bud rescued ; bo could not move for a little. When at last lie did he hit on Ids lower lip to keep back a noise of pain. He rowed very, very slowly back to tho Voyager, and once again, oven more weary than lie had been in the early morning, crept aboard her. Ho had still to pull the girl after him; he fumbled about clumsily, whilst over his head the lantern bobbed’and danced with maddening lack of sustained, helpful light A voice, very weak and pitiful, came to his oars;

“ Let mo die’ I want to—l must! ”

“ You won’t, then! ” Seumas grunted, with n final heave. He carried the girl to tlio hole ho called a cabin, and gave her the benefit of Ids sea wisdom. It was drastic, but it helped. She could take a very little brandy after a short time.

“That’s better,” Seumas ; aid encouragingly. “ You’ll soon be lit again. What the deuce have yon been no to? ” The girl, white as a carved marble saint, lifted her eyelids, and Seumas bad an opportunity of seeing eyes which literally seemed to light up tho face they dominated.

“ I have wrought justice,” she said very slowly, in a deep, very young voice, which sounded inexpressibly tragic, “ and I wish yon had let mo die,” she ended with the pathos of a hurt child. “ Why didn’t yen P ” “ I shouldn’t have, even if I’d known the—or—circumstarn'cs,” Scumas said, wondering frantically whom the girl had killed, and why she had done it. “Look hero,” ho said bluntly, “ what’ve you done ? ” He wished, a second later, that lie had not been so point blank. His words seemed to raise a tornado for which ho was little prepared. N "Yon say, what have I done?” the girl asked. Her big eyes glowed suddenly, she half rose, her voice became bitter despite its beauty. “I’ll tell yon what I have done. 'Von shall know all. First, to-day when I was grieving and I grieved Dins. I wept my eyes dry, and my heart. It seems to mo I weep all mv vonth away, and my beauty too.' But what docs that matter now. since Juan will never love it more ? So do I weep, ' and whilst I weep Manoel comes to comfort me, and I let him. He is Juan’s brother, is ho not? It is right that ho should come. And all drty, all day tho yacht search' and search and a,sic and ask, ami we find no one, and only the night before Juan knelt before mo and whispered of our love. Me were to have celebrated the wedding feast in throe weeks’ time. And’now—now but for yon wo should have celebrated it in Paradise.

“ God could not have punished me for wlmt I did. It is allowed to defend one’s own purity and love. That was all I did, and it was right. When Manoel had gone, a sailor cajno to mo, a little cabin boy who does the dirty work for the cook, and he has a story to toll me. He comes from my own place, from Estrada. He whispers his talc, for he is very frightened, and because he is frightened I know that it is true, an I that, because of that, he fears tho punishment Manoel would give him. “This is his tale. At dawn he did not sleep, and he crept out, and lay a little while on deck, in a hidden spot, and he sees the man on watch is asleep too and knows that all of them had drink last night by Manoel’s_ orders. And while lie was hidden, this little peasant boy, he sees Manoel come on to the deck, and he is talking with Juan of some danger to the yacht, some leak that has sprung suddenly. And they go to the side, and then the peasant boy sees Manoel take a large handkerchief, like a bag it is, knotted at the two ends, and drag it over Juan s face as he bends, and then Manoel thrusts at Juan as he falls, and always the yacht goes on. That is tho boy’s story, and at first t was angry with him, and I tell him* he lies; and then suddenly I think back, and I remember how each man has sworn after it has been discovered Juan is lost, how each man has sworn ho' knows nothing—nothing, and the man who had the watch has sworn that he never slept an instant. “ And I think and think till I know. Yes, I know, and I watcji Manoel’s face, and I watch his wife’s face; she is like a sheep—she knows nothing; she could not suspect the Evil One himself—she is too stupid. But with the evening time Manoel comes to me, and again he tries to comfort me. And this time he put his arms round me, and I see his eyes shining, and I hate—l hate him. i say to him: ‘ Where were yon at dawn? ’ and I feel him grow rigid, just for a second only; then he laughs, and then again he says: ‘ I am distraught and he must look after me.’ And he says, too, that he wants me, that I am his dear little oijie, and that he loves ine; and I know ihe is bad—bad —bad. I say to him: “Yon do love me, Manoel? ’ And he Ijlows like a quick torch that is lit; ho swears he,

loves and worships, and my love, my Juan, is dead not a dav. Then I let him kiss me—once —so,' on my lips, and then I say to him as he kisses mo: ‘ Slayer of Juan, die too! ’ And I stab him with the dagger which was hidden in my hair, and he sinks down to his knees, and then ho sinks to the carpet, falling sideways. “ I look at him, and I feel glad, and then the horror steals out from the shadows, and I am sick with hatred of him and myself, and ] rise and the sea offers to'hide me, so I loan and I shall die and be at rest, and find Juan again, and walk with him in the eternal sweetness of love’s Paradise, when you come and dare to lift me from my peace—the peace 1 had so nearly won; and you bring me here, and 1 must go on living, and sooner or later the wife of Manool will find me.

“ I do not care, only for the shame of my name, that is all. For the rest, that I shall die, perhaps, that does not matter. J am glad of it, for it means I shall reach Juan again. Now you know what 1 have done, and why I did it. You have heard the story. Yon can tell it when they conic to take me, I shall not speak. I shall not justify myself. I need no such defence of words. Tam glad. Glad, do you hear, that I did what I did? J, have killed him who killed my dearest. I thank God for it.” “ So you said before,” Seumas remarked thoughtfully. He roused himself with an effort. “ Well, well,” he said tolerantly, “perhaps in a like case, seuorita——- ” “ Ah-h! ” the girl said, with a long breath, “you understand —you, too, have loved ; you have sympathy, insight ” Seucas, forgetting to ask permission, lit his pipe; he felt the need of some soothing influence. He was suddenly faced with a problem which seemed to suggest complicity Vaguely as far as the moral, ethical part of the murder was concerned, and actual protection from tho law as far as the girl before him was concerned.

He lifted brooding eyes to the face before him, and then Ins lienrt smote him—it was such a young, despairing face. “ Yon turn in,” he said in a fatherly way; “get comfy and I’ll bring you down some food, tea or something.’’

When the next day came Scnorita Cecilia D’Arimez w.s in high fever, and quite unconscious of her surroundings, safety, past crime, or even her future punishment. Seumas nursed her, and hold her hand when she believed he was .Juan, and bore her shrieks of loathing when she thought him Manocl, He conceived a hearty distaste for the now defunct Manoel. He had little doubt from Senorita Cecilia’s recital that he had actually witnessed Juan’s death,

Two days and nights passed, and lie was faced with the urgent question of where he was to go, how long ho could manage to go for, taking stores, no help, tlmcaro of an invalid, the danger of pursuit, and other details into account.

He stood upon the slanting deck, at that moment at a somewhat acute angle, and surveyed the laughing, dashing sea with grim speculation. Ho reckoned lie was off St. Michel, to the north; ho could not for ever sail the seas with a fair would-be suicide and confessed murderess, however sorry he might fool for her, and even if Senmas was on fhe other side of fifty he had not loved the changing glories of the sea. and sky for fifteen solid years of roving without the study having bred an artistic sense in him. Me was frankly delighted when Senorita Cecilia sat up and was sensible, and as weak as a baby. He treated her as he would have ik-ated a very small, helpless puppy, and would certainly have whistled to her if he had thought it would cheer her up. But nothing seemed to do that; she was docile, even faintly grateful, but no laughter showed in her eyes, and Soninas knew how she cried in her sloop. He was quite sure that when she was strong enough she would try once more to find peace and Juan in the sea; and, on the other hand, if he took her a-diore she might he arrestesd immediately. To add to all these woes lie was getting short of oil, oatmeal, and water. He went below, ; iter asking if lie might do so. Ho had decided to convey his difficulties as delicately as possible to Senorita Cecilia, and see if she could offer any solution.

Ho found her sitting up in the tiny berth, her head against the port-hole, her big eyes wearily scanning the sea; a locket, ho saw, was clasped in her thin fingers; he had noticed it before. “ Well, Senorita! ” he said cheerily. She turned her face to him. “ Nothing is well,” she said pathetically, and the big tears rolled down her cheeks. This scarcely seemed the moment for confession of troubles. Scuraas strove to arouse her. “Is there a portrait in that locket? ” he asked. She nodded. “ The portrait of my Juan —you may see it.”

She uusuappod the locket from its gold chain and handed it to Soninas, who saw a young man with eyes very like Cecilia’s, and features which ho seemed to know.

“Why,” ho said, “he’s like—” .And then he stopped. He was reading the name engraved on the locket, and it was a name which had once had world-wide recognition.

“ Good Lord,” said poor Soninas, “ yon don’t mean lie’s—well, one of them?” And ho niuned the great family.

“ (if a certainty,” Senorita Cecilia said languidly. “ Juan was the second sou of the iiead of the younger branch.”

Seumas went up on deck to pot a breath of fresh air, which would enable him to recover from this last and most powerful blow. He saw already, in his mind, the po-lice-patrolled yachts sweeping the seas for trace or word of this slender h;dy who so unconcernedly stabbed a-gran-dee, and then gave way to despairing grief in his little half-rater, not for her sin, but for the lover the murdered man had thrust overboard. It was a complicated affair this, and Seumas felt life had dealt hardly with him in saddling him with full responsjbiity. Ho cast a thought back to Ids peaceful hieakfast on the shore on that morning when first he had touched the fringe of this - disastrous affair.

A nice little European scandal this would all be when it came out—as it must, sooner or later, as he very well knew.

He wondered what on earth ho should say, and he had no idea. A queer sort of tenderness was at war with an odd sense of strict justice. It was years and years since Seumas had known any woman well, and he had only loved once in nil his life.

For the sake of that woman he was pitiful to this one—strict justice or not, right or wrong. He swung round to alter the sail, and saw, not half a mile away, a yacht, a gorgeous thing flying the Spanish flag. His keen eyes narrowed, his chiu jutted out suddenly, giving him almost a ferocious look. " The yacht came swooping down on him with insolent, flying grace. “ Don’t mind me,” Seumas muttered as his boat danced to the tune of the sweeping yacht. “ Don’t mind me, come on and swamp us, do! ” But the yacht was slowing down, and a man with much gold braid on his blue coat hurled an.order at Seumas through a megaphone. ,

He was to draw inthe owner, of the yacht wished to speak with him. Seumas was *OOll near enough to distinguish something that looked uncommonly like a caballero’s uniform. He had made up his mind at last, however, and he regarded the personage who was clad in this imposing kit with equanimity as the vessels came closer. “ Now, then, we want information,” tho same gold-braided individual bawled at him.

“ What about?” Seumas called clearly. He was feeling conscious of a profound relief that Seuorita Cecilia was too weak to sit on board. “ What about? ” he called again. There was a conference going on apparently on the yacht. “Got anyone aboard with you?” came the call. “ No,” Seumas lied stoutly.

“ Will yon row across then, please? ” Ho answered that ho would, and as he moved about he thought he heard a faint call.

The blood sang in his ears for a moment.

Ho loosed the dinghy and towed it round to the side, then, before he lowered himself into it, he dropped Hie door on to the cabin, or place he dignified by that name. “ She can’t stifle,” he told himself hopefully, “ and, thank God, tho port hole’s on the other side.”

He climbed up tho iron steps to the spotless yacht. And when he reached the deck he nearly fell back again. Before him, .seated in a deck chair, very white, very thin, infinitely tired-looking, sat Juan, the man he had seen thrust overboard, the man for whose sake, to avenge whom, Cecilia had murdered Manocl. Seumas gave a gasp, and then strangled it. “Yon spoke!” the gold-braided man asked him sharply. _ “ The senor deceived himself.” Sonmas assured him, and he stared again at Juan, who at 'ast lifted his eyes and met his look.

There was in his gaze a medley of expressions; he seemed to bo imploring, defiant, shrinking, imperious. Seumas moved a little to the right so that ho could see him still, when an official came up to question him. “ Yon have been where during the past week? ” Senmas told him placidly. “ Yon are alone on your boat? ”

Soninas related the tale of William’s misfortune.

The officer cast a quick glance at the Voyager; she seemed such a paltry little tub to search.

Me began to question What ships had Senmas seen—where —and had ho spoken to them? etc., etc.

“ Why do yon want to know all this? ” Seumas asked negligently. 'The officer puffed out his chest and., rolled off Manuel’s names and titles and Juan’s, and finally Cecilia’s; he mentioned the miraculous rescue of the younger Excellency by _a Portuguese, steamer, and alluded religiously to Cecelia’s share in the other tragedy. “ Both are dead,” he said finally, making the sign of the Cross. “ Indeed? ” Seumas murmured.

“ The eternal triangle,” lie added, and met the reproving stare of the officer blandly.

Ho began to bid farewell, and insisted on shaking hands with all in view. The officer strove to hustle him away when he was aproaehing Juan; hut Seumas refused to ho h .tied; he tripped over the officer’s foot and came to a halt before Juan.

The youngjuan met ‘s gaze wearily. “ T was at Cowes the year you won the Boxawou Cup,” Senmas said to him in English. “.1 was aboard Iloxa wen’s yacht, Falcon the Second. 1 _” ho hesitated x second, then added briskly: “ I’ve a picture you ought to sec aboard my tub.”

Juan was on his foot, the mystified sailors and detectives around him, “Really?” ho said. “I’ll come back with yon, if I may.” Seuinas led the way to his dinghy, and listened with unfeigned pleasure to the half-heard comments of the crowd that watched his departing on the extraordinary ways of the English. Juan was aboard the Voyager before Soninas had prepared his speech. “ Well, what do you know? ” Juan demanded feverishly. “ Per God s sake tel! me quickly.” “ You'll find her below,” Sennias said simply; “ but drop gently, because of the furniture, will yon? ” f Ho had to pretend to ho speaking to Juan all the while, because the entire personnel of the yacht which had been gathered round him his examination was still watching his every action with passionate absorption. He strove to hear no word, and he strove to see no greeting, though lie was forced to believe, when quietly meditating over the affair years afterwards, that the lovers would never have known if a crowd had boon watching them. At last ho was forced to call to Jnan. Ho did it apologetically, but, as he explained, “ someone might get suspicions—and then- ” Ho also told Juan lie must strive to look loss radiant; in fact, as miserable as possible. “ She’s not free yet,” bo added gently and significantly. Personally lie did not see how the tangle was ever to be unravelled. Jnan held Ins hand and looked hard at him. He could say nothing, and for a Spaniard that was a rather remarkable thing. At last he said in a curious broken voice ;

“ Thank yon—for showing me that picture. I’d like to—possess it. Do you think yon could he off Vegos by Thursday evening? ” “ I’ll try,” said Senmas, and they shook hands.

He only saw Juan once again, when he came at dark to fetch Cecilia.

Seumas could bear this secrecy no longer. “ Ell hurst,” lie said, “ if you don’t tell me what you’re going to do. Yon can’t take her back to your own country ; you ” They stood together hand in hand, Juan and Cecilia, and Juan laughed and said:

‘‘ I have no country now. Wo are going to sail to some safe Paradise and Jive there. It won’t matter where it is to ns,” The last Seumas saw of them was Juan Jilting Cecilia into a waiting boat and the mystery of the night covered their departure to the isles i" Paradise.