FullReads

“To this Captain Guy answered that he didn’t own the ship, but he commanded her, and as long as he commanded this vessel or any other, he was not going to pass a wreck when there were good reasons to believe that there was a human being on board of it, and in spite of what anybody said, his eyes told him that there was reason to believe that there was somebody waving on that wreck. So he ordered the ship put about, paying no attention to the cursing and swearing of the owner, and beat against a wind that was getting lighter and lighter for over four hours until he reached the French steamer and took off the two ladies.

“There was nobody on board the Glanford that thinks that Captain Guy will ever sail that ship again. And in fact he don’t think so himself. But said he to me: “If I can marry that girl, the ship can go. If I can’t get another ship, I can sail under a skipper. But there’s no other girl in the world like this one.”

“And so you see, sir,” he continued, “there isn’t the least chance in the world for you. Captain Guy’s got her on board his ship; he’s with her by sunlight and starlight. He’s lost his ship for her and he wants to marry her. And on the other hand, it’ll be weeks and weeks and perhaps months before you can see her, or write to her either, as like as not, and long before that Captain Guy will have his affair settled, and there isn’t any reason in my mind to doubt which way it will settle. And so you just take my advice, sir, and stop drawing that long face. There are plenty of good girls in the world; no reason why you shouldn’t get one; but if you are moping for the one that Captain Guy’s got his heart set on, I’m afraid you’ll end by being as much out of your head as you were when I found you.”

To all this I made no answer, but walked gloomily toward the stern and looked down into the foaming wake. I think I heard the captain tell one of the men to keep an eye on me.

When we reached La Guayra–and the voyage seemed to me a never-ending one–I immediately set about finding a vessel bound for England. My captain advised me to go up on the mountains and wait until a steamer should sail for New York, which event might be expected in two or three weeks. America would be much better for me, he thought, than would England. But I paid no attention to him, and as there was nothing in port that would sail for England, I took passage in a Spanish steamer bound for Barcelona. Arriving there, after a passage long enough to give me plenty of time for the consideration of the last two words I heard from Mary Phillips, and of the value of the communications I had received regarding Captain Guy Chesters, I immediately started by rail for London. On this journey I found that what I had heard concerning the rescue of my Bertha had had a greater effect upon me than I had supposed. Trains could not go fast enough for me. I was as restless as a maniac; I may have looked like one.

Over and over I tried to quiet myself by comforting reflections, saying to myself, for instance, that if the message which Bertha had sent floating on the sea to me had not been a good one, she would not have sent it. Feel as she might, she could not have been so hard-hearted as to crush the hopes of a man who, like herself, might soon lie in a watery grave. But then, there was that terrible word “but.” Looked at in certain lights, what could be more crushing or heart-breaking than that?