Gordon Keith | Page 5

second, and raising his oar, dealt a vicious blow with it, not at the
boy in the boat, but at the flag in the bow of the boat. The unsteadiness
of his footing, however, caused him to miss his aim, and he only
splintered his oar into fragments.
"Hit him with the oar, Norman," called the boy in the stern. "Knock
him out of the boat."
The other boy made no answer, but with a quick turn of his wrist
twisted his boat out of its direct course and sent it skimming off to one
side. Then dropping one oar, he caught up the other with both hands,
and with a rapid, dexterous swing swept a cataract of water in Gordon's
face, drenching him, blinding him, and filling his eyes, mouth, and ears
with the unexpected deluge. Gordon gasped and sputtered, and before
he could recover from this unlooked-for flank movement, another turn
of the wrist brought the attacking boat sharp across his bow, and, with a
shout of triumph, Norman wrenched the defiant flag out of its socket.
Gordon had no time for thought. He had time only to act. With a cry,
half of rage, half of defiance, he sprang up on the point of the bow of
his boat, and with outstretched arms launched himself at the bow of the
other, where the captor had flung the flag, to use both oars. His boat
slipped from under his feet, and he fell short, but caught the gunwale of
the other, and dragged himself up to it. He held just long enough to
clutch both flags, and the next second, with a faint cheer, he rolled off
and sank with a splash in the water.
Norman Wentworth had risen, and with blazing eyes, his oar uplifted,
was scrambling toward the bow to repel the boarder, when the latter
disappeared. Norman gazed at the spot with staring eyes. The next

second he took in what was happening, and, with an exclamation of
horror, he suddenly dived overboard. When he came to the top, he was
pulling the other boy up with him.
Though Norman was a good swimmer, there was a moment of extreme
danger; for, half unconscious, Gordon pulled him under once. But
fortunately Norman kept his head, and with a supreme effort breaking
the drowning boy's hold, he drew him to the top once more. Fortunately
for both, a man seeing the trouble had brought his boat to the spot, and,
just as Norman rose to the surface with his burden, he reached out and,
seizing him, dragged both him and the now unconscious Gordon
aboard his boat.
It was some days before Gordon was able to sit up, and meanwhile he
learned that his assailant and rescuer had been every day to make
inquiry about him, and his father, Mr. Wentworth, had written to
Gordon's father and expressed his concern at the accident.
"It is a strange fate," he wrote, "that should after all these years have
arrayed us against each other thus, and have brought our boys face to
face in a foreign land. I hear that your boy behaved with the courage
which I knew your son would show."
General Keith, in turn, expressed his gratitude for the promptness and
efficiency with which the other's son had apprehended the danger and
met it.
"My son owes his life to him," he said. "As to the flag, it was the
fortune of war," and he thought the incident did credit to both
combatants. He "only wished," he said, "that in every fight over a flag
there were the same ability to restore to life those who defended it."
Gordon, however, could not participate in this philosophic view of his
father's. He had lost his flag; he had been defeated in the battle. And he
owed his life to his victorious enemy.
He was but a boy, and his defeat was gall and wormwood to him. It
was but very little sweetened by the knowledge that his victor had

come to ask after him.
He was lying in bed one afternoon, lonely and homesick and sad. His
father was away, and no one had been in to him for, perhaps, an hour.
The shrill voices of children and the shouts of boys floated in at the
open window from somewhere afar off. He was not able to join them. It
depressed him, and he began to pine for the old plantation--a habit that
followed him through life in the hours of depression.
Suddenly there was a murmur of voices outside the room, and after a
few moments the door softly opened, and a lady put her head in and
looked at him. She was a stranger and was dressed in a travelling-suit.
Gordon gazed at her without moving