Rilla of the Lighthouse

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER V. A SWIM IN THE NIGHT.

  Meanwhile Gene Beavers had seated himself upon the ledge of rocks belowthe cave and had waited, now and then glancing up, hoping that the "stormmaiden" might appear with a message for him, but the afternoon hoursdragged away and she did not come. Then, at last, to his joy, he saw thatthe fishing boats were, one by one, leaving the Outer Ledge and sailingtoward home. Scrambling down the steep cliff trail, the lad ran along thebeach and went far out on the rocky point. There he stood eagerlyawaiting the approach of the boats, ready, when he believed that he wasobserved, to signal to them. But, because of the direction of the windand the lowness of the tide, the fishing boats gave Windy Island a wideberth. One boat did turn on a tack and for a moment seemed to be bearingdirectly toward the point. Taking off his white coat, Gene waved itfrantically, but the lone fisherman was busy with the ropes just then anddid not look up. A second later the boat swung about on another tack andGene realized, with a sinking heart, that he could depend no longer uponthe fishermen to take him to the mainland.

  Walking slowly around the island, he stopped suddenly, for he had heardvoices not far ahead of him. Quickly he stepped behind a shelteringboulder, and none too soon, for it was at that moment that Cap'n Ezra hadrisen and had announced that it was nearly sundown and time for theevening meal. From his hiding place Gene observed all that happened. Henoted how troubled was the truly beautiful face of his "storm maiden."Perhaps she was anxious about him. He almost hoped that she was.

  The net was put away in the shanty and the old man followed the girl upthe steep steps. Some time elapsed before Gene stepped out from hishiding place. Walking out upon the small wharf, the lad stood looking atthe dory which was anchored nearby. If only he could borrow that boat, hethought. He could row to town and hire someone to tow it back. But eventhis he could not do without appealing to Captain Ezra, who, a fewmoments before, had shouldered the oars and carried them up to thelighthouse.

  As the lad stood gazing out over the water of the harbor the afterglow ofthe sunset faded, the first stars came out and dusk gathered about him.He shivered, for the night air seemed suddenly chill and damp.

  Until then Gene had not been greatly concerned about his mishap,considering it rather in the light of an interesting and novel adventure.His host, Doctor Winslow, luckily, had planned being away all of thatday. "When he returns his housekeeper, Miss Brazilla Mullet, will informhim that I did not appear for the mid-day meal, as I had assured her thatI would," Gene thought, "and he will probably be greatly alarmed. It willbe easy enough to trace me to the dock where I hired the boat at so earlyan hour this morning, and as I did not return it, he will naturally thinkthat I have met with disaster. If only I could make the mainland withinthe next hour I might be able to save mine host much unnecessaryanxiety."

  Suddenly a daring plan suggested itself.

  The summer before, Gene had won the championship of his athletic club ina two-mile handicap swimming race. It was only one mile to Tunkett, and,moreover, the wind, blowing gently in from sea, would aid him greatly.Surely he could make it, for, if he wearied, he could float on his backuntil he was rested. Then another thought came to remind him of hisrecent illness. Was it not to regain his strength that he had come toTunkett, having left college at the beginning of the fall term? When hehad won that championship he had been in the best of trim. Shrugging hisshoulders, Gene Beavers argued no more with himself. There seemed to beno other alternative, and so, pulling off his shoes and socks andthrowing them to the beach with his white flannel coat, he went to theend of the small wharf and plunged in. As Rilla had said, the water wasicy cold, and the lad struck out vigorously to keep warm. It never woulddo for him to have a chill.

  On and on he swam, now and then lifting his head to assure himself thathe was keeping a straight course toward the town wharf, on the end ofwhich were three lights, two red and one white. How glad he was to seethem. The long, glimmering reflections stretched toward him and yet theyseemed farther away than they had appeared from Windy Island.

  Gene was nearing the silent, shadowy anchored fleet of fishing boats whenhe suddenly realized that his strength was failing rapidly. If only hecould reach an unoccupied buoy which he saw bobbing not far ahead of him.

  For a moment he rested upon his back, but when he tried to turn againthat he might swim, he felt too weak to make the effort. Then he wasterrorized with the sudden realization that the tide had changed and thathe was drifting slowly away from the little fleet and out toward the opensea.

  Gene made another herculean effort to turn over and swim, and so greatwas his determination, he did succeed. Luckily the rising night windaided him and just then a wave, larger than the others lifted him on itsrolling crest and hurled him up on the cask-like buoy, and there heclung. He had little hope of being able to long retain his hold, as hisfingers were numb with cold and his arms ached. Too, he felt drowsy, orwas it faint?

  It was at that moment that his "storm maiden" knelt in her open window,and looking toward the starry heavens, asked God to care for her newfriend, Gene Beavers.

  Meanwhile, as the lad had surmised, Doctor Winslow was searching for hisguest.