"I wonder what good
it would have done him if you hadn't been the prize he wanted? I'm not
sure I shouldn't pay you out, Louise Grayling, by making the two of you
live for a year on his eighteen dollars a week."
"Are you sure that would be such a great punishment?" she asked him
softly.
They moved on with the crowd about the gear and boat. The patrol had
come in good season. It was not probable that the schooner would hold
together long after she struck the reef.
Not until this moment, when she saw the stern faces of the men and the
wan countenances of the women, did Louise understand what the incident
really meant. A few children, clinging to their mother's skirts,
whimpered. The men talked in low voices, the women not at all.
Her heart suddenly shorn of its happiness, Louise Grayling stared out
at the distant, laboring craft. Death rode on the gale, and lurked
where the billows roared and burst over Gull Rocks. The schooner was
doomed.
That might be the _Curlew_ out there--the schooner her father was
aboard--instead of this imperiled vessel.
Pages:
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358