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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Drift from Two Shores"

The youngest,
and, I regret to say, the OLDEST, Miss Jones uttered together
sympathetically, "Go on--please; do!"
"The--woman told him in a few rapid words that he had been
betrayed; that the two men sent ashore were now in the hands of the
authorities; that a force was being organized to capture the
vessel; that instant flight was necessary, and that the betrayer
and traitor was--my friend, the Portuguese, Fernandez!
"The mate raised the dripping, little brown hand to his lips, and
whispered some undistinguishable words in her ear. I remember
seeing her turn a look of ineffable love and happiness upon his
grim, set face, and then she was gone. She dove as a duck dives,
and I saw her shapely head, after a moment's suspense, reappear a
cable's length away toward the shore.
"I ventured to raise my eyes to the mate's face; it was cold and
impassive. I turned my face toward the crew; they were conversing
in whispers with each other, with their faces toward us, yet
apparently utterly oblivious of the scene that had just taken place
in the stern.


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