The Firing Line | Page 6

you must," he said; "but I'd rather row you in."
"If I must? Do you expect to paddle me around Cape Horn?" And she
rose and stepped lightly onto the bow, maintaining her balance without
effort while the boat pitched, fearless, confident, swaying there
between sky and sea.

"Good-bye," she said, gravely nodding at him.
"Good-bye, Calypso!"
She joined her finger tips above her head, preliminary to a plunge.
Then she looked down at him over her shoulder.
"I told you that Calypso was a land nymph."
"I can't help it; fabled Calypso you must remain to me."
"Oh; am I to remain--anything--to you--for the next five minutes?"
"Do you think I could forget you?"
"I don't think so--for five minutes. Your satisfied vanity will retain me
for so long--until it becomes hungry again. And--but read the history of
Ulysses--carefully. However, it was nice of you--not to name yourself
and expect a response from me. I'm afraid--I'm afraid it is going to take
me almost five minutes to forget you--I mean your boat of course.
Good-bye!"
Before he could speak again she went overboard, rose swimming with
effortless grace. After a dozen strokes or so she turned on one side,
glancing back at him. Later, almost among the breakers, she raised one
arm in airy signal, but whether to him or to somebody on the raft he did
not know.
For five minutes--the allotted five--he lay on his oars watching the
sands. At moments he fancied he could still distinguish her, but the
distance was great, and there were many scarlet head-dresses among
the bathers ashore and afloat.
And after a while he settled back on his oars, cast a last glance astern,
and pulled for the Ariani, aboard of which Portlaw was already
bellowing at him through an enormous megaphone.
Malcourt, who looked much younger than he really was, appeared on
the after deck, strolling about with a telescope tucked up under one arm,

both hands in his trousers pockets; and, as Hamil pulled under the stern,
he leaned over the rail: "Hello, Hamil! Any trade with the natives in
prospect? How far will a pint of beads go with the lady aborigines?"
"Better ask at the Beach Club," replied Hamil, laughing; "I say,
Malcourt, I've had a corking swim out yonder--"
"Go in deep?" inquired Malcourt guilelessly.
"Deep? It's forty fathoms off the reef."
"I didn't mean the water," murmured Malcourt.

CHAPTER II
A LANDING
The Ariani was to sail that evening, her destination being Miami and
the West Coast where Portlaw desired to do some tarpon fishing and
Wayward had railroad interests. Malcourt, always in a receptive
attitude, was quite ready to go anywhere when invited. Otherwise he
preferred a remunerative attention to business.
Hamil, however, though with the gay company aboard, was not of them;
he had business at Palm Beach; his luggage had already been sent
ashore; and now, prepared to follow, he stood a little apart from the
others on the moonlit deck, making his adieux to the master of the
Ariani.
"It's been perfectly stunning--this cruise," he said. "It was kind of you,
Wayward; I don't know how to tell you how kind--but your boat's a
corker and you are another--"
"Do you like this sort of thing?" asked Wayward grimly.
"Like it? It's only a part of your ordinary lives--yours and Portlaw's; so
you are not quite fitted to understand. But, Wayward, I've been in

heavy harness. You have been doing this sort of heavenly thing--how
many years?"
"Too many. Tell me; you've really made good this last year, haven't
you, Garry?"
Hamil nodded. "I had to."
He laid his hand on the older man's arm. "Why do you know," he said,
"when they gave me that first commission for the little park at Hampton
Hills--thanks to you--I hadn't five dollars in all the world."
Wayward stood looking at him through his spectacles, absently pulling
at his moustache, which was already partly gray.
"Garry," he said in his deep, pleasant voice that was however never
very clear, "Portlaw tells me that you are to do his place. Then there are
the new parks in Richmond Borough, and this enormous commission
down here among the snakes and jungles. Well--God bless you. You're
twenty-five and busy. I'm forty-five and"--he looked drearily into the
younger man's eyes--"burnt out," he said with his mirthless laugh--"and
still drenching the embers with the same stuff that set 'em ablaze....
Good-bye, Garry. Your boat's alongside. My compliments to your
aunt."
At the gangway the younger man bade adieu to Malcourt and Portlaw,
laughing as the latter indignantly requested to know why Hamil wasted
his time attending to business.
Malcourt drew him aside:
"So you're going to rig up a big park and snake preserve for Neville
Cardross?"
"I'm going to try,