CHAPTER XXVII.
WHAT MARK DID.
The surprise of the helpless watchers on the shore precludesdescription. They knew that out upon that seething river a tragedy wasbeing enacted; but the driving rain made a wall about them--they couldnot aid, they could not even see. They stood about in groups, andwhispered, and listened, and strained their eyes to pierce the mist.
Mark's friends were wild with alarm; and his enemies--who can describetheir feelings?
A man has said that it is a terrible thing to die with a wrong uponone's soul; but that it is agony to see another die whom you havewronged, to know that your act can never be atoned for now. That thereis one unpardonable sin to your account on the records of eternity. Thatwas how the yearlings felt; and even Bull Harris, ruffian though he was,trembled slightly about the lips.
The storm itself was one of those which come but seldom. Nature's mightyforces flung loose in one giant cataclysm. It came from the north, andit had a full sweep down the valley of the Hudson, pent in and focusedto one point by the mountains on each side. It tore the trees from thetops as it came; it struck the river with a swish, and beat the waterinto foam. It flung the raindrops in gusts against it, and caught themup in spray and whirled them on; and this, to the echoing crashes of thethunder and the dull, lurid gleam of the lightning that played in therear.
One is silent at such times at that; the frightened cadets on the shorewould probably have stood in groups and trembled, and done nothingthrough it all, had it not been for a cry that aroused them. Some one,sharper eyed than the rest, espied a figure struggling in the water nearthe shore. There was a rush for the spot, and strong arms drew theswimmer in. It was Captain Fischer, breathless and exhausted from therace.
He lay on the bank, panting for breath for a minute, and then raisedhimself upon his arms.
"Where's Mallory?" he cried, his voice sounding faint and distant in theroar of the storm.
"Out there," responded somebody, pointing.
"W-why don't somebody go help him?" gasped the other. "He'll drown!"
"Don't know where to go to," answered the first speaker, shaking hishead.
Fischer sank back, too exhausted, himself, to move.
"He'll drown! He'll drown!" he muttered. "He is tired to death from therace."
And after that there was another anxious wait, every one hesitating,wondering if there were any use venturing into the tossing water.
The storm was one that came in gusts; its first minute's fury past,there was a brief let up in its violence, and the darkness that theblack clouds had brought with them yielded to the daylight for a while.During that time those on the shore got one brief glimpse of a startlingpanorama.
The boat was sighted first, still skimming along before the gale, butobviously laboring with the water she had shipped. The frightenedoccupant was still in the stern, clinging to the gunwale with terror.There was a shout raised when the boat was noticed, and all eyes werebent upon it anxiously. Then some one, chancing a glance down the riverbelow, caught a glimpse of a moving head.
"There's Mallory!" he cried. "Hooray!"
There was Mallory, and Mallory was swimming desperately, as the crowdcould dimly see. For the boat he was aiming at was just a little fartherout in the stream than he, and bearing swiftly down upon him. Whateverhappened must happen with startling rapidity, and the crowd knew it, andforebore to shout--almost to breathe.
The boat plunged on; the swimmer fairly leaped through the waves. Nearerit came, nearer--up to him--past him! No! For, as it seemed, the bowmust cleave his body, the body was seen to leap forward with it. He hadcaught the boat! And a wild cheer burst from the spectators.
"He's safe! He's safe!"
But the cheer, as it died out, seemed to catch in their throats, and tochange into a gasp of suspense, and then of horror.
Mallory had clung to the bow for a moment, as if too exhausted to move.His body, half submerged, had cut a white furrow in the water, drawn onby the plunging boat. Then the girl, in an evil moment, released herhold and sprang forward to help him. She caught his arm, and he flunghimself upon the boat.
And then came the crash.
Leaning to one side, with the sudden weight, the boat half turned, andthen gibed with terrific violence. The great boom swung around like agiant club, driven by the pressure of the wind upon the vast surface ofthe sail. The watchers gave a half-suppressed gasp, Mallory was seen toput out his arm, and the next instant the blow was struck.
It hit the girl with a crash that those on shore thought they heard; itflung her far out into the water, and almost at the same instant Mallorywas seen to leap out in a low, quick dive. Then, as if the scene wasover, and the book shut, the rain burst out again in its fury, and thedarkness of the raging storm shut it all out.
This time there could be no mistaking duty; the cadets knew now wherethe struggling pair were, and they had no reason to hesitate. First tomove was one of a group of six anxious plebes, who had been waiting inagony; it was Texas, and the spectators saw him plunge into the waterand vanish in the driving rain. Then more of that crowd followed him;Fischer, too, sprang up, exhausted though he was, and in the end therewere at least a dozen sturdy lads swimming with all their might towardthe spot where Mallory had been seen to leap.
They were destined, however, to do but little good; so we shall stay bythose upon the shore.
The weakening of Bull Harris' followers has been mentioned; it increasedas the plebe's self-sacrificing daring was shown.
"He certainly is spunky," one of the crowd ventured to mutter, as heshivered and watched. "I hope he gets ashore."
And Bull turned upon him with a savage oath.
"You fool!" he cried. "You confounded fool! If he does, I could killhim! Kill him! Do you hear me?"
There are some natures like that. Have you read the tale ofMacauley's?--
"How brave Horatius held the bridge In the good old days of yore."
There was just such a hero then battling with the waves as now--
"Curse him!" cried false Sextus. "Will not the villain drown?"
And on the other hand--
"Heaven help him," quoth Spurius Laritus, "And bring him safe to shore! For such a gallant feat of arms Has ne'er been seen before."
There were few of Bull's crowd as hardened in their hatred as was he;Murray was one, and the sallow Vance another. Baby Edwards followedsuit, of course. But, as for the rest of them, they were thinking.
"I don't care!" vowed one. "I'm sorry we've got him fired."
"Do you mean," demanded Bull, in amazement, "that you're not going tokeep the promise you made a while ago?"
"That's what I do!" declared the other, sturdily. "I think he deservesto stay!"
And Bull turned away in alarm and disgust.
"Fools!" he muttered to himself. "Fools!" and gritted his teeth in rage."I hope he's never seen again."
It seemed as if that might happen; the cadets during all this time hadbeen standing out in the driving rain, striving to pierce the darknessof the storm. From the river came an occasional shout from some one ofthe rescue party; but no word from the plebe or the girl.
Once the watchers caught sight of a figure swimming in; it proved to beFischer once more. The cadets had rushed toward him with sudden hope,but he shook his head, sadly.
"Couldn't--couldn't find him," he panted, shaking the water from hishair and shielding his face from the driving rain. "I was too tired tostay long."
The storm swept by in a very short while. Violence such as that cannotlast long in anything. While the anxious cadets raced up and down theshore, each striving to catch a glimpse of Mallory, the dark cloudssailed past and the rain settled into an ordinary drizzle. The surfaceof the white-capped river became visible then, and gradually the headsof the swimmers came into view.
"There's Billy Williams!" was the cry. "And that's Texas, way overthere. Here's Parson Stanard! And Jones!"
And so on it went, bu
t no Mallory. Those on the shore could not see himand those in the river had no better luck. Most of them had begun togive up in despair, when the long-expected cry did come. For Mark wasnot dead by a long shot.
A shout came from a solitary straggler far down the stream, and thestraggler was seen to plunge into the water. Those on the shore made awild dash for the spot and those in the water struck out for the shoreso as to join them. And louder at last swelled the glad cry.
"Here he is! Hooray!"
The plebe was about a hundred yards from the shore, and swimming weakly;the girl, still unconscious, was floating upon her back--and herrescuer, holding her by the arms--was slowly towing her toward theshore.
A dozen swam out to aid him as soon as he was seen; strong arms liftedthe girl and bore her high upon the bank, others supporting thehalf-fainting plebe to a seat.
"Is she dead?" was Mark's first thought, as soon as he could speak atall.
"I don't know," said Fischer, chafing the girl's hands and watching forthe least sign of life. "Somebody hustle up for the doctor there!Quick!"
Several of the cadets set out for the hospital at a run; and the restgathered about the two and offered what help they could.
"It's Judge Fuller's daughter," said Fischer, who was busily dosing theunconscious figure with a flask of reddish liquid surreptitiouslyproduced by one of the cadets.
"Do you know her?" inquired Mark, in surprise.
"Know her!" echoed half the bystanders at once. "Why, she lives justacross the river!"
"That's an ugly looking wound on the head there," continued Fischer,bending over the prostrate form. "Gosh! but that boom must have struckher. And here, Mallory," he added, "you'd best take a taste of thisbrandy. You look about dead yourself."
"No, I thank you," responded Mark, smiling weakly. "I'm all right. OnlyI'm glad it's all over and----"
Mark got no farther; as if to mock his words came a cry that made thecrowd whirl about and look toward the river in alarm.
"Help! Help!"
"By George!" cried Fischer, "it's one of the fellows!"
"It's Alan!" shouted Mark. "Alan Dewey!"
And before any one could divine his intention he sprang up and made adash for the river. For Mark knew how Dewey had come there; he had swumout, cripple though he was, to hunt for him; and with his one well arm,poor gallant Dewey was finding trouble in getting back.
Mark had been quick, but Fischer was a bit too quick for him and seizedhim by the arm.
"Come back here!" he commanded, sternly. "And don't be a fool. You'renear dead. Some of you fellows swim out and tow that plebe in."
Half a dozen had started without being asked; and Mark's overzealousfriend was grabbed by the hair and arms and feet and rushed in in greatstyle. He came up smiling as usual.
"Got out too far, b'gee!" he began. "Very foolish of me! Reminds me of astory I once heard---- Oh, say!"
This last explanation came as the speaker caught sight of the figure ofthe young girl; and his face lost its smile on the instant.
"She's alive, isn't she?" he cried.
"Don't know," said Fischer. "Here comes the doctor now."
"Well, she certainly is a beautiful girl!" responded Dewey, shaking hishead. "B'gee, we don't want that kind to die!"
The doctor was coming on a run; and a minute later he was kneelingbeside the young girl's body.
"Jove!" he muttered. "Almost a fractured skull! No, she's alive! Seehere, who got her out?"
"Mr. Mallory," responded the captain, turning toward where Mark had sat.And then he gave vent to a startled exclamation.
"Good heavens! He's fainted! What's the matter?"
"Fainted?" echoed the surgeon, as he noticed the young man's white lipsand bloodless cheek. "Fainted! I should say so! Why, he's almost as neardead as she! We must take him to the hospital."
A Cadet's Honor: Mark Mallory's Heroism Page 27
