Fifty-Two Stories For Girls Part 52

"Oh, doctor!" I expostulated, wonderingly.

"I'm going to drench you too, Miss Sara. It will relieve the thirst," he said.

Sylvia opened her eyes. "Oh! it's bliss!" she said.

Dr. Atherton then poured some salt water over me, and then over Mr.

Wheeler and himself, and told the sailors to drench themselves as well.

It _was_ a little relief--only a very little; and the heat gradually dried us up again.

"Here, give me the baler!" cried Davis in a little while, and he caught it out of Gilliland's hand. "D'ye think I'm going to die o' thirst with all this water about?" And dipping it over the side of the cutter, he lifted it to his mouth.

"Stop him!" shouted the doctor in a frenzy. "The salt water'll make him mad!"

And Gilliland, with a desperate thrust, tipped it over his clothes instead.

Davis howled. He tried to fight; but Gilliland was too strong for him, and soon he was huddled up in the fore part of the boat, cursing and swearing dreadfully.

After a time he quieted down, and then he became so queer.

"Roast beef!" he murmured, smacking his lips. "An' taters! An' cabbage!

An' gravy! An' Yorkshire pudden'! My eye! It's prime! And so's the beer, my hearties!"

He smiled. The anguish died out of his face. He thought he was eating it all. And then he began to finish off his dinner with apple pie.

"Stow your gab!" snarled Evans. "Wot a fool he is!"

And, indeed, it was maddening to hear him.

An hour later he struggled into a sitting posture and turned a rapturous face upon the sea. "Water!" he shouted. "Water! Water!" And before any of the sailors could raise a hand to stop him he had rolled over the side of the boat.

The first mate shouted. The men, feeble though they were, sprang to do his bidding. They were not in time. With a gurgling cry Davis was jerked under the water suddenly. Next moment the water bubbled, and before it grew calm again the surface was stained with blood.

"A shark's got him!" shrieked Hookway. And as he cried the great black fin of some awful thing came gliding after the cutter.

"He's had _his_ dinner," said Gilliland grimly; "and he's waiting for his supper now!"

III.

Oh! that terrible night, with the full moon shining down upon the quiet water! So still! So calm! Not a ripple on the wave! And that awful black something silently following us!

Sylvia lay with her head upon the doctor's knee--one poor thin arm, half bared, across my lap. And so the morning found us.

There was something the matter with Evans--something desperate. He was beginning to look like Davis--only worse. Something horrible in his ghastly face. It was wolfish. And his eyes--they were not like human eyes at all--they were the eyes of some fierce, wild beast. And they were fastened with a wolfish glare on Sylvia's half-bared arm. _He wanted to eat it!_

Stealthily he had got his clasp knife out. And stealthily he was crouching as if to make a spring. And I couldn't speak!

My tongue, as the Bible expresses it, clave to the roof of my mouth. I was powerless to make a sound. And none of the others happened to be looking at him.

I put my hand on Mr. Wheeler's knee and gave him a feeble push. I pointed dumbly at Evans.

"Put down that knife!" cried Mr. Wheeler in a voice of command. "Evans!"

With a cry so hideous--I can hear it now--the man lunged forward. Mr.

Wheeler tried to seize the knife; but Evans suddenly plunged it into his shoulder; and the first mate fell with a groan.

Then there was an awful struggle.

Gilliland and Hookway fighting with Evans. And the doctor trying to protect Sylvia and me; and dragging the first mate away from the scuffling feet. And I praying out loud in my agony that death might come to our relief.

He was down at last. Lying in the bottom of the boat, with Gilliland sitting astride him, and Hookway getting a rope to tie him up! The doctor leaning over Mr. Wheeler and trying to staunch the blood, and the first mate fainting away!

And then--Oh! heavens! with a cry--Gilliland sprang to his feet, shouting! gesticulating! waving his cap! Had he, too, now, suddenly gone mad?

"Ship ahoy! ahoy!" he shrieked, and we followed his pointing hand.

And there, on the bosom of the endless sea, we saw a ship becalmed.

I suppose I swooned.

When I recovered my senses, the cutter was creeping under her lee, and the crew were throwing us a rope.

"The women first," said somebody in a cheerful voice. "And after them send up the wounded man."

And soon kind, pitying faces were bending over us. And very tender hands were feeding Sylvia and me.

"They've had a pooty consid'able squeak, I guess," said the cheerful voice.

And somebody answered, "That's so."

We had been picked up by an American schooner.

A STRANGE VISITOR.

BY MAUD HEIGHINGTON.

The Priory was a fine, rambling old house, which had recently come into Jack Cheriton's possession through the death of a parsimonious relative.

Part of the building only had been kept in repair, while the remainder had fallen into decay, and was, in fact, only a picturesque ruin.

The Cheritons' first visit to their newly acquired property was a sort of reconnoitre visit. They had come from Town for a month's holiday, bringing with them Thatcher--little Mollie's nurse--as general factotum.