CHAPTER XXXV

THE DECK OF THE SEA GULL

The dawn broke gray and desolate, the vista of restless waters growing gradually wider, as the light spread out across the eastern sky.  The clouds yet hung thick and low, yielding a ghastly aspect to the dawn, somberness to the picture of breaking waves tipped by flying vapors of mist.  I sat at the tiller, grasping one of her hands in mine, and staring anxiously about the broadening circle.  The boat in which we rode, while buoyant enough, still bore the outward appearance of a wreck, the broken stump of a mast barely showing sufficiently high to support the flapping jib, and the wet canvas of the mainsail completely concealing everything forward.  The men were lying low, so completely hidden as to be invisible even to us, but the Lieutenant sat upright, with head above the mass of sail, and was scanning the sea with glasses.  He was a resolute-looking fellow, with brown eyes, and a reddish tinge of hair.  As he lowered the glasses a moment, I saw him glance back at us curiously.

“Had n’t seen you before,” he explained cordially enough.  “Dark when we came over the side, you know.  Bad morning.”

“The fog is lifting.  What is that black mass out there?”

“Cosmos Island,” and he turned his lenses the other way.  “The next ten minutes will give us a clear view.”

I looked at her, noting how tired her eyes appeared in the gray light, although they smiled courageously.

“I wish you were not here,” I whispered.

“Please do not say that.  I—­I really I wished to come.  I do not think I could have let you go without me.”

“But you are so tired—­”

“No more than you, I am sure.  Why, I have done nothing except to stay awake.  You have had all the work and worry.  It will not be long now.”

“No; we shall know in a few minutes if the Sea Gull is standing by hunting us.  If she shows up, you must do exactly as I say.  You promise that?”

“Of course,” and the clasp of her hand tightened.  “You have no reason to doubt me.”

The Lieutenant’s eyes were on the widening sea line, and I bent down and pressed my lips to her bare arm.  I glanced up again into flushed cheeks.

“It has been a great night,” I said sincerely.  “The one in all my life best worth living through.”

“I almost believe you mean that.”

“Don’t you?”

“Can you not read my answer in my eyes?”

“Craig,” exclaimed the Lieutenant suddenly, “that must be the fellow off there to port.  Here, try the glasses—­just where the cloud is lifting a bit.”

I was some time gaining the proper focus, but when I once had the distant vessel caught fairly in the lens, I recognized her instantly.

“That’s the Sea Gull, and, by heavens, they are keeping a sharp lookout on board.  See! she is swinging on her heel already; they’ve sighted us.”