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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

Back behind the rare depth of those eyes
her heart was hidden, and thus far I had probed for its secret in vain.
The sunlight streaming in through the upper transom told me the sun was
dipping into the west. If we were to get away when night came there
were many things to consider first; especially was I obsessed now with
a desire to overhaul the Captain's papers, and secure those which would
be of benefit. We must possess more proof than the garrulous talk of
the second mate, and surely that proof would be discovered in the after
cabin. The noise of the steward's dish-washing had ceased, and
cautious investigation discovered him sound asleep, curled up like a
dog, on the deck. Assured as to this, I ventured up the companion
stairs, and indulged in a glance forward. Except for a group of
sailors doing some sail patching in the shade of the charthouse, no one
was visible. The vessel rocked gently, and far forward there was a
sound of hammering. The mate would be there, overseeing the job
whatever it might be. There was a dark cloud overshadowing the eastern
horizon, with zigzag flashes of lightning showing along its edge, but
the sea was barely rippled. There was no sign of any boat along the
beach of the cove, and the fishermen had disappeared, not a glimmer of
white sail showing above the waters.


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