PHANTAS.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1008, 24 December 1910, Page 11

PHANTAS.

~ 'Tor, barring all pother, With this,": or the other, . : Still Britons are Lords of tlie Alain." ; • —The Chapter of Admirals. .As Abel Keeling lay .on. the galleon's .i .deck, held .from rolling down it only , by. his own weight, and .tho 'sun-blaek- . .eried liand that, lay outstretched upon the.planks, his gaze: wandered,, but ever, i . returned to tlie bell that hung, jammed with the dangerous heel-over of the vessel, in the small ornamental, belfry im- . mediately abaft tho mainmast. .The bell' was of cast bronze, with half-obliterated tosses upon it that had. been the heads ; of cherubs; but wind and salt spray had -given it. a thick'incrustation of bright, beautiful, lichenous green. It was this . colour that Abel Keeling's, eyes liked. I'or wherever: else on the galleon his . , rested, they found only, whiteness —the whiteness of extreme cold. There ~ were slightly varying degrees in her whiteness; here she was of a white that glistened, like salt granules;-there of a greyish • chalky.' white; and, again, her 1 : whiteness had the yellowish cast of v decay ; buf everywhere 1 it was the mild, • . ' .. disquieting whiteness of materials out of which the life had departed. Her cordage was bleached as old straw is bleacheil; her pallid. timbers were, whito and ' clean as bones.fouiid in sand;, and ever . the, wild frankincense . which (for ■ '.lack of tar at. her last touching of land) : _£he had been pitched had . dried to a pale "V..'hard gum that sparkled, like quartz in her open seams.. The sun was yet so ; . pale, a buckler of. silver through the still white mists that not a cord or timber cast; a shadow; and only Abel. Keeling's . face and .hands were, black, Varked and from' exposure to his pitiless . rays. . ' ' The galleon .was the Mary of the V . Tower, i and she had a frightful list to '. starboard. So canted was she that her - v mainyard dipped one of its-steel .sickles' V ,into the'glassy water, andMiad her'forei niast remained, or more' than the broken: , Bfump of her . bonaventure' mizzen. she ■ niust have turned over completely.' luany ■ days ago they had' stripped, the -mainyard ■■ of its course, and had passed-. tho: sail under' the' llary's, bottom, in -the hope . . that it would stop the leak. -This it . -'. : PMtly done as long as., the galleon had continued to glide one way; then, without coming about,, she had begun to glide, tho, other,, the, ropes had .parted, and..she had dragged, tho sail, after her, leaving a broad tarnish • on . the silver .sea. ■ ... .

'• •?«' it was broadside; that;the galleon ( glided, almost,, imperceptibly,■' ever sucking .down. , L .She .glided, as- if: a loadstone drew. her, and. at first Abel Keeling had 1; thought'it was a loadstone, .pulling at ;" her iron,. drawing her through. the pearly mists: that' lay like, facecloths -to. the water.. and. hid.-at- a short, distance' the . tarnish left by.; the sail. But .later he had known that it was no loadstone drawing at' her iron.The motion 'w,as 'due— must t ;.be due—to: the absolute deadness of. the calm >111 that .silent,'sinister, three-miles-broad waterway. With, the eye. of .his mind .he" saw. that :loadstone now ■ as he lay against a 'gun-truck, all but toppling down .the deck...Soon that would happen again. which had happened for r live . days past. He would : hear - "again . the:. chattering. of .; monkeys', aiid the .'screaming ofparrots';. the; matof. .greph and yellow weeds would creep in towards the. Mary over the quicksilver sea; once more the.sheer wall of reck would rise, and-, the men .would run . -.• '.But. no; tho .men w6ulil not ruri this . time to.-drop the fenders. ■ There were no men [left to . do. so, unless Bligh -was still alive: Perhaps Bligh was still alive. He had. walked; half-way down the quarterdeck, steps.; a, little before the sudden nightfall .of the day before; had ' then fallen and lain for'a! minute (dead, Abel ■ Keeling had .supposed, - watching him from his place by tho' gun-trnck); and had then got up again and tottered forward/ to the - forecastle,' his tall figure paying, and his long arms waving: Abel - Keeling • had not seen him' since., llost •likely he had died.in the forecastle during the night. If, ho had • not been deacl he would have come.' aft - again for " water. . . .

At the remembrance of the water, Abel Keeling lifted his liead. The fi * l ean musclc about his emaciated mouth-worked, and he made a little, pressure of_ his sun-blackened hand on the deck, 1 as if to verify its steepness and his own balance. The mainmast was souie seven or eight yards away. . . . He put :<me stiff les under him,. and began, -.seated;as he was, to make shuffling movements . down 4 the slope. • '£?' the;-mainmast,-' near the -belfry, was aihxed his contrivance for catching water. It consisted of a collar- of rope, set- lower at one site than at the other , (but that had been before the mast had 'steeved so many degrees away from .the zenith), and tallowed beneath. The mists ' lingered • later.in'that gully of a Strait than they did on* the open ocean, and the collar of rope served as a collector for the dews that condensed on the'mast. The drox)s fell into a small earthen pipkin placed on the deck beneath it. . Abel. Keeling reached . the pipkin and into it. it was nearly -a third mi of iresh water;. Good. If . Bligh, , mate, wa.s dead, so much the more water for Abol Keeling,- master of the Mary the Tower. He .dipped two nngers-into the, pipkin and; put them into •his-mouth..- Tins he did .several times. no did 1 not dare to. raise the pipkin to 'His black- and broken lips for dread, of . a remembered agony, he could not have told haw many days agp, when. a devil had whispered to him, and he hail gulped ;down t)ie-contents of the pipkin'in-the morning, and lor the rest.. of the day had gone waterless. . . . Again he moistened his fingers and sucked them; then I , ? sprawling against the. mast, idly matching the drops of water-as they fell. it was odd how tho drops formed. ■Slowly they collected at the edge of the tallowed collar, trembled .in their 'fullness tpr an/mstant, and fell, another begina'kT ;?<< P ro( *ss instantly; It amused .Abel Iveeling to watch them. Why (he .wondered) were all tbo drops the- same tw --WMt Mnse-ind compulsion., did ufef ? n , that . they-never varied, and h, r, nu "*V y , hoW the littlo globules intact. It musv be cuio 'to soirie cause. .-eretl that the aromatic gum.of the wild frankincense with which' .hey had parcelled the . seams had liunon the. buckets in great■ sluinrf«h "out" obedient.to a dillorent' common;, oil .V4S dillerent again, and so were juices K it ' !i' y quicksilver (perk "« the-heavy and-motionless sea nut hb > in mind -of quicksilver) seemed obedient to no law. . v . Why was it Bligh, of course, ' would have had his explanation: it was the Hand- of Ge l ..That sufficed, for .Bligh, who" had gone forward the evening before, and whom Abel Iveeling now seemed vaguely and as.at a distance, to remember as the deen voiced-fanatic .who had sung his hymns as, man by .man; he had committed the bodies of the ship s company 'to- the'deen Bligh was that sort of man;, accented things without question; was content to ta.ke. things as they were, ■ and be ready with tho fenders when the Wall of rock rose out . of. the opalescent mists. Bligh too, like the watc-rdrops, had his law' that was his and nobody' else's. ... ' There-floated down from .-some rotten Tope up- aloft a flake of scurf, that settled in the pipkin. Abel Keeling watched it. dully as it settled towards tho pipkin s . rim. When, presently, he . again dipped his fingers into ; the vessel, the •water ran into a littlo, vortex, drawing the; flake : with it. The. water settled again,, and again the minute ilalce determined towards tho rim and adhered there as if the rim had power to draw it. . . ' It .was- exactly so that the galleon was gliding towards the wall of rock, the yellow and green weeds, and . the monkeys and parrots. Put out into mid-water again (while there had been men to put her out), she had glided to the other wall." One Force, drew the chip in the pipkin and the ship over the tranced sea: It was the Hand of God, said Bligh. . . .

BY OLIVER ONIONS.

Abel Keeling, his mind now noting minute tiling?, and now clouded with torpor, did. not at iirst hear a voieo that was q'uakingly lifted, up over bj; the fore-, castle—a voice that, drew nearer, to an accompauimoni of swirling water. . ■ "0 Thou, that Jonas in the fish Throe days didst keep from pain, Which was a figure ot Thy death And rising up again " iIt was Bligh, singiug one of his hymns: ,"0 Thou, that Noah keptst from flood, And Abram, day by day, As he along- through Egypt passed ' Didst guide him in the way " ~ The voice ceased, leaving- tho pious period uncompleted. Bligh was alive, at any rate.,. . .'Abel Keeling. resumed his fitful musing. Yes, that was the law of Bligh's life, to call things the Hand of God; but Abel Heeling's law was different; no better, no,- worse, only: different. The Hand of God, that drew chips and galleons, must work by some method, and Abel ICeeling's eyes wero dully on the pipkin- again, as if he sought the method'there. . . . Then conscious thought left him for a' space, and, when he resumed, it was without. obvious connection. Oari, of course, were the thing. With oays, men could laugh at calms. Oars, that only pinnaces and galliasses now used, had had their advantages. But oars I ("which was to say a method, for you could, say if vou liked that the Hand of God grasped the oarloom, as the Breath of God filled the sail)—oars were antiquated, belonged to the past,. and meant a tlirowing-over of all that was good and new, and a return to fine lilies, a battleformation abreast to give effect to the shock of the ram, and a day or two ■at sea and then to port again for provisions. Oars' .. . no. Abel Keeling was one of the new men, the men who swore by the line-ahead, the broadside • fire of sakers and demi-cannou, and. weeks and months without a landfall. Perhaps one day the wit of such men as ho would deviso a craft, not oardriven (becauso oars could not penetrate into the remotest seas of the world)— not sail-driven (becauso men who trusted to sails found themselves in an airless, three-mile strait, . suspended ; motionless between cloud , and water, ever gliding to a wall of . rock)—but. a ship . . a . ship . ...

: "To, Noah and his sons with him God spake, and thus said He: A cov'nant set-1 up with you ' , ' And jour posterity— . It was' Bligh again, wandering. somewhere in the waist. Abel Kceling's mind was once, more a blank. ■ Then slowly, slowly, as the''.water drops collected on the collar of : rope, his thought took shape again. ■ , ■ , ' A galliasse?- No, not a galliasse. The galliasse made shift to be two things, and was neither. This ship, that the hand of man should one day make for the Hand of God,to manage, should be a ship that should take and consorve the; force of the-wind, take it arid store it as she stored, her -victuals; at rest when sho wished;. going... ahead when she wished; , turning the for?3s both of calm and storm ngains,t themselves.. For, of course, her i'oree must be • ivinrlr—stored wind—a lyig of the winds, us the children's talo had it—wind probably dircctecl upon the water astern, driving it away and urging forward the ship, acting by reaction. She. .would have a wind-chamber, into which wind would be pumped . with numps. . . .-Bligh would, call that'equally the' Hand of God, this driving-force of the ship of the future that AM .Keeling dimly foreshadowed, as .he lay between the mainmast .and. the belfry, turning his eyes now. and . then from ashy white timbers to the vivid: green bronze-rust of the bell abovc'':him. Bligh's face,' liver-coloured with' the sun. and ravaged IVom.. inwards by the faith that consumed' hini, appeared it the head of i tbo quarterdeck'steps. His voice, beat uncontrolledly out. "And in the earth' here is no place ' Of refuse to be found, . Nor in tlie deep and water-course That passethunderground "

Bligh s eyes were lidded, as if in contemplation of his inner ecstasy. His head was thrown back,, and his brows worked up and down , tqrmentedly. " His wide mouth remained .open as his hymn was suddenly interrupted on the long-drawn note. From somewhere in the shimmer-' lug mists the note ■ was taken up, - andtherc drummed and rang and'reverberated through the- Strait a .windy, hoarse, and dismal bellow, alarming and sustained.! A tremor ran through Bligh. Moving like a sightless man, he stumbled forward from the -head of the quarterdeck steps, and. Abel Keeling was awaro of his gaunt figure bohind him, taller for the steepness of the deck. As 'that vast empty sound died away, Bligh laughed in his mania. ' .■ (

"Lord, .hath the grave's wide mouth a tongue to praise 'JL'liee? 10, again " ' Again, tho,\cavernous sound possessed tho air, louder and nearer. Through it came another >'sound, a slow throb, throb throb, throb——. Again tho sounds ceased.

.' "Even Leviathan lifteth up his voice m praise!" .Bligh. sobbed. _Abcl Keeling did not raise his head. There had. returned to him' the- memory of. that day when, before'the morning mists had lifted from the Strait, he had emptied the pipkin of the water that was the allowance until night should tall again. During that agony, of thirst he Jiad seen shapes and heard sounds with other than his mortal eyes and ears,, atod even ,in the moment that had alternated with his lightness, when he had known . these to .be hallucinations, they had come , again. Ho had heard the bells on a Sunday in Ms own Kentish home, the calling of children at play the unconcerted singing, of men at their daily labour, and tho laughter and. gossip of. the women .'as they had spread the. linen, : on tho hedge or distributed bread .upon the platters. These voiccs had rung in his brain, interrupted now' and then by the groans of Bligh and of two other men who had been alive then. Some of the voices ,he had heard, had been silent on earth' this many a long year,. but Abel - Keeling, thirsttortured, had hoard them,' even as ho was how hearing- that - vacant moaning with.the intermittent throbbing tliat filled the Strait with alarm. V . .

"Praise Him, praise ijim, praise Him!" Bligh was calling deliriously. Then a bell seemed to sound in Abel Keeling's ears, and, as if' something in the mechanism of his'brain had slipped, another picture , rose in, his fancy—the scene when the. Mary of the Tower had put, out, to a bravery of swinging bells and-.shrill' fifes and valiant trumpets. She had not been a leper-white galleon then. The scroll-work on her prow'had twinkled with gilding; Hie ' war-parvesse about her waist had been gay with painted coats and 'scutcheons; and from her main-yard, now dipping in tbo water, .had hung the broftd two-tailed • pennant with the Virgin , and Child embroidered upon it..' .... : Then suddenly a voice about him seemed to. be 'saying:, "Arid a half-seven ——and a "half-seven——" and in a twinlc the picture in Abel Keeling's brain changed'again.- He was at home again, instructing .his son, young Abel, in the, casting of the lead from the skill they had pulled out of the harbour. "And a half-seven," the boy seemed to be calling. Abel Keeling's blackened lips muttered: "Excellently well cast, Abel, excellently well cast!" "And a half-seven—-and a half-seven : —seven l —seven " "Ah," Abel Keeling murmured, "that last was not a clear, cast give me the line—thus it should go. ; . . i'or a minute or. two he continued to mutter; then he dozed. When again he came to semi-consciousness it was once more.to the sound of bells, at first faint, then louder, and finally becoming a noisv clangour immediately above his head. If. was Bligh. Bligh. in a fresh attack of delirium, had seized the belllanyard and was ringing the boll insanely. The cord broke in his fingers, but he thrust at the bell with his hand, and again called aloud. "Upbn an harp and an instrument of ten . strings . . . let HeaTCh. and Earth praise Thy Nome! , ,

He continued to call aloud, and to beat on the bronze-rusted bell. "Ship ahoy! What ship's that?" One would have said that a veritable hail had conic out- of the mists; but Abol Keeling knew those ha'ils that came out.of.the mists. They came from ships which were not there. "Ay, ay keep a good look-out, and have a carp io your lodemanagc," he muttered again to his son. ...

But, as sometimes a sleep sits up- in his dream, or rises from liis couch and I walks, so all of a sudden Abel Keeling found himself on his hands and knees on the deck, looking back over his shoulder. In some deep-seated region of his consciousness he was dimly aware that the cant of the_deck had become more perilous, but his brain received the" intelligence and forgot it again. He was looking out into the bright and baffling mists. The buckler of the sun was of a more ardent silver; the sea below it was lost in brilliant evaporation; and between them, suspended in the haze, no more substantial than the vague darknesses' that float before dazzled eyes, a pvramidal phantom-shape hung.. Abel Keeling passed his hand over his eyes, but when he removed it the shape was still there, gliding slowly towards the Mavv's quarter. Its form changed as he watched it. The. spirit-grev shape that had been a pyramid seemed to dissolve into four upright members, slightly graduated in tallness, that nearest tile llarv's stem the tallest, and that to the left the lowest. It might have, been the shadow of the gigantic set of reed-pipes on which that vacant mournful note had been sounded. . And- as lie ■ looked, with fooled eyes, again his ears "became fooled;— "Ahoy, there! What ship's that? Are you.a ship? - . . . Here, givo me thajt trumpet " Then a metallic barking. "Ahoy there! What, the devil are you? Didn't you ring a bell? Ring it. again, or blow a blast or something, and go dead slow!" All this came, as it' were, indistinctly, and through a sort of high singing in Abel Heeling's own ears. Then ho fancied a short, bewildered laugh, followed by • a colloquy from somewhere between sea and sky., "Here, Ward, just pinch me, will you? Tell me what you .see there. , I wont to know if I'm' awake." ' "See where?" . "There, _on the starboard bow. (Stop that ventilating fan; I can't hear myself ■ think.) See anything ? Don't tell me it's that-damned Dutchman—don't pitch me that old Vauderdccken tala —give me an easy one first, -something about a sea-serpent. . . . You did hear that bell, didn't you?" ."Shut up a minute——list-en " Again Blight's voice was lifted up. "This is the cov'nant that I make; ■ .From henceforth nevermore Will I again the world destroy . With water, •as before." ' . 1

Bligh's voice died away again ; in Abel Reeling's ears. "Oh—my—fat—Aunt—Julia!" the voice that seemed to come from between sea: and sky sounded again. Then it spoke more, loudly. "I say," it began with careful politeness, "if you are,a ship, do you mind telling us whero the masquerade' is to be? Our wireless is out of . order, and wo hadn't heard of. it. ... Oh, you do see it, Word, don't you? . . . Please, please tell us what .'the deuce you arc! Again Abel ICeeling had moved, as a sleep-walker moves. Ho had raised himself up by. the belfry timbers, and Bligh. had sunk iu a heap oil the deck. Abel Kceling's movement overturned tho pip'-, kin, which raced file little tTicklc-of its contents down tho deck and lodged, where, til© still and brimming sea made, as it were, a chain with tho' carved balustrade of the quarterdeck—one link a still gleaming' edge, then a dark baliis-' t'er; and then another gleaming edge. For ono, moment only ,Abel Keeling found himself noticing that .that, which had driven Bligh aft had b'cen the rising ofthe water in tho waist as tho galleon ■settled by the head; the waist was now entirely submerged. Then once- more ho was absorbed in his dream, its voices, and its shape , in the mist, which had again taken the form of a pyramid before his'eyeballs. "Of course," n voice seemed to be. complaining and still through til at contused' diiining in Abel 1 Kceling's' ears, "wo can't turn a four-inch on it.. .'■ . . And, of course. Ward, I don't believe' in 'em. : D'yoii hear, Ward? I don't : believe in 'em, I say.' . . Shall' wo call down to old A-B?' This might interest liim." ' "Oh, lower a boat and pull out to itinfo it—over it—through it " . "Look at our 'chaps crowded on tho I barbette yonder! They've seen fc. Better not give an order you know won't, be obeyed. ..." Abel Keeling, cramped against the. antique belfry, had begun to find his dream interesting. For, though 110 did not know her build, that' mirage was'tho shape of a ship. No doubt she-was projected from his'brooding 011 ships of half an hour be-, fore;'and that was odd. But per-'; haps, after, all, it was not very odd. Ho knew that she did not. renllv exist—only the appearance of her existed—but things had to exist like, that before they really existed. Before the Mary of the Towerhad existed she had been a shape in some man's imagination; before that somo dreamer had dreamed the-form of a ship with oars; and before thjt, far away in the dawn and infancy of the world, somo seer , had seen in a vision the raft before man had ventured to push out' over the water on his two planks. And since this shape that rode, before Abel Keeling's eyes was a shape' in his—Abel Iveeling's —dream, he, Abel Keeling, was the master of it. His own brooding brain had contrived her, and she was-launched upon the illimitable ocean of his own mind.

"And I will not unmindful be ,' -Of; this,''My covenant,-passed - Twist lie and you and every flesh '• Whiles that the .world , shall last." sang Bligh, rapt. ... But as a dreamer, even in his dream, will scratch upon the wall by his couch some key or word to put him in mind of his vision on the morrow when it has left him, so Abel Keeling found himself seeking sonio' sign to bo a proof to those to whom no vision is vouchsafed, liven, Bligh sought that—could not be silent in his bliss, but lay on the deck there, uttering great passionate Aniens and.prais-' ing his-Maker,': as he said, upon an harp and an instrument of ten strings. So with Abel Keeling. It would bo the Amen' of his life to have praised Qod, not upon a harp,' but upon a ship that should store wind or its equivalent'as she stored her' victuals, that should bo something wrested from the chaos of un-invention and ordered and disciplined and subordinated to Abel Keeling's will. . . . And there she was with tho four pipes . that resembled a phantom organ now broadside and of equal length. And the ghast-crew of that ship wero speaking again. The interrupted silver chain by tho quarterdeck balustrade had now become continuous, and the balusters made a' herring-bone over their own motionless -reflections. Abel Keeling stood beside the mast, erect as God- made man to go. With his leathery hand ho smote upon the bell. He waited for tho space of a minute, and then cried: "Ahoy!-. . . Ship ahoy! . . .What, ship's that?" 11l We are not conscious in a dream that we aro playing a gamo the' beginning and end of which are in ourselves. In this dream of Abel Keeling's a voice replied : "Hullo, it's found its tongue! . . . Ahoy there! What aro you?" Loudly and in a clear voice Abel Keeling called: "Are you a ship?" With ' a nervous giggle tho , answer Ca "We are a ship, aren't we, Ward? I hardly-feel sure. . . . Yes, of course we're a ship; no question about us. The question is, what the dickens are you?" Not all the words these voices used were intelligible to Abel Keeling, and he knew not what it was in the tone of these last words that reminded him of the honour duo to the Mary of the Tower. The voice had a youngish ring, and it was not fitting that young .chins should be wagged about his galleon. He spoke curtly. , , . "You that spoi:e—aro you the master of that ship?" "Officer of the waVth," the words floated back. "The captain's below." "Then send for him. It is with masters that masters hold speech," Abel Keeling replied. Ho could see tho two shapes, flat and without relief, standing on a high narrow structure with rails. Ooe of them nave a low whistle; but' the ol,'\cr mumbled somothing into a sort oi funnel.

Prcsently the two shapes became throe. There was a murmuring, as ol a consultation, and then suddenly a new voieo spoke. At its thrill and tons a sudden

tremor rati through Abel Keeling's frame. .lie wondered what response it was that , that voice found in ciie forgotten recesses oi his' memory. ... "Alioy!" seemed to call tnis new yet faintly remembered voice. "What's all this > ahout. y Listen. We're his Majesty's destroyer Seapink, out of Devouport last. October, and nothing particular the matter with us. i\ow who arc you?" *'TJie 3iary of tlie Tower, out of tiie Port of llyc on the day of Saint Anne, and only two men " . A gasp interrupted him. "Out of where i" that voice that so strangely moved Abel Keeling said, unsteadily, while Bligli- broke into groans oi renewed rapture. "Out of the Port of- Bye, in tho County Sussex.... . . is'ay, give ear, else I • cannot mako you hear jug while this mail's spirit and ilssh wrestle so together !•. . . Ahoy! Are you gone?" .for the voices had become a low mur-

mur, and the .ship-shape had faded before Abel Keeling's eyes. Again.and again. ho called. He wished to be informed or the disposition and economy of the windchamber. ... • "The wind-cbaiuber !" ho called, in .an agony lest the . knowledge, should bo lost. '1 would know about it!" like an echo, there came back the words, uncomprehcndingly uttered, "Tlio wind-chamber i" . . /' "That driveth the vessel—perchance 'tis not' wind—the'force you store,' to move at. will through calm and storm. . . "Can yov. make out what i-'s driving at ?" "Oh, we shall all wake, up in a minute. . . ." "Quiet; I have it; the engines; it wants to know about our engines. It'll be'wanting to see our papers presently. Rye Port! . . . AYell, no harm in humouring it; let's see what' it can make of thisj Ahoy there!" came the voice to Abel Keeling, a little more• strongly, as if a. shifting wind carried it, and speak* «!:? -faster* and. faster as' it went on. Not wirid, but steam: d'you hear? Steam. Steam, in-eight Jarrqw watertube boilers. S-t-e-a-m, steam, Got it?— And we've twin-screw triple" Expansion engines, indicated horse-power four thousand, and we can do -430 revolutions per minute; savvy? Is there anything your ■phantomliood"'would l like to know about our armament?" ... ' Abel Keeling was muttering fretfully to himself. pnnoyed hiin that words in his own vision, should 'have no meaning for hir.i. How. did words.come to him in a dream that he had 110 knowledge of when wide-awake? The Senpink—that was; the name.of this, ship; •but, a pink. was long .and narrow, lowcarged, and scjuarcrbjiilt aft. .... .-.■" And as for our.armament," .the voice with, the 'tones'.that, so profoundly troubled Abel Kcelitig's memory ' continued, "yj?'?* w two .revolving, "Whitehead' tor-peao-tubes, three six-pouricleirs v cn the upper- deck, aiid;that's *a twelve-pounder forward there by- th'o coriiiing-tower. I torgot to inonticn that we're nickel-steel, with. a. coal. capacity of sixty-.tons in most damnably placed bunkers, and that thirty-and-a-cjuarter knots is about our top.?-Care t<> come aboard?" But the voico was speaking still more rapidly , and feverishly, as if to fill a silence with no matter what, and the shape that'was-uttering it was straining' forward anxiously over the rail; "Ugh! But I'm glad this happened in the daylight," another voice was muttering;- -. *:■ "I. wish I was sure it . was happening at all. . . . Pcor ■ old spook!" . "I supposo' it would keep its feet ifher.deck .was quite vertical. Think she'll go .down, or just melt?" :"Kind- of go down . . .'without wash. . ; . • ; - ''Listeji—hero's the ' other one ' now," for Bligh - was singing 'again':— : - 'Tor, r Lord,;. .Thou know'st our nature ' . SUCIi ; If we great things obtain, And in the getting of the samo Do feel no grief or pain. AYe little do esteem thereof; ~ But, hardly brought.to pass, ! A thousand times we do esteem More than ths.'other wasi-V : it But oh, Jook—-look—look at the other! ......i'-ph.'i-sar.vwasn't he a grand old boy! -Look!". , -

For, transfiguring Abel Iveeling's form as; a;, prophet's form .is transfigured in the,.-insrant of his rapture, flooding his brain with tho white eurcka-light of perfect knowledge, that .for which ho and his dream had been at a standstill had come. Ho. knew Iter, this ship of tho future, as if God's finger had bitlen her lines into his brain.. Ko know her as those already sinking into the gravo know ■ things, miraculously,, completely, accepting life's -impossibilities -with, "a n°d(l-3tl "Of .course." From tho ardent mqutfjs of. her eight:furnaces to' : the last drip from her, lubricators,..froin, her bedplates to .the breeches, of her fiuick-firers, ho knew her—read her gauges,.'thumbed her bearings, gave' the ranges from her range-finders, .and-lived- tho life he lived who was in command of her. ■ Arid ho would not forget- 011' . tho morrow, as ho 1 'I l or S" tten;oll ' nla ny"inorrdws, for at last he had seen tiie water' about his feet, and knew'that 'there-would be no morrow for him in this world. . . . And evenjn that moment, with but a sand or two to run in.his glass, indomitable, insatiable, dreaming, di-oaui 011 dream, lie could not die until he knew inore. He had two questions to ask, and a master-question, and but a moment remained. Sharply , his voice rang out. ■_ "Ho, there! . .-. This' ancient ship, the Jlary o£ tho' Tower, , cannot steam thirfy-and-a-qnarter■. knots, but yet slio can sail the waters...What more does'your ship? Can she soa.'vabovo tlieln, as tho air. soar?"

"Lord, he thinks we're an" aeroplane! . . . No,, we.' can't.. ..." "And can.you'dive, even as the fishes of the 'deep?""No.'. Those aro submarines. Wo aren't a submarine. . . ." ■

■_Biit Abel Keeling waited for no'more. He' gave .an exulting chuckle. "Oho, oho—thirty knots, and but 'on the face :of the waters—no more than that? Oho! . . . Now my ship, the ship I ess as a mother sees full-grown the child she has but conceived—my ship I say—o)lo!—my ship . shall. ... Below there—trip that gun!" The cry camo suddenly and alertly, as a inufTlcd sound, came , from below," and an ominous tremor shook the galleon. "By Jove, her guns arc breaking loose below—that's her finish—"

Trip tliat gun, and donble-breech the others!" Abel Kccling's voice rang out, as if there had been any to obey him. Ho had braced himself within the belfry frame;, and then in the middlo of the next order his voice suddenly failed him His ship-shape, that for Ih'c moment ho had forgotten, rode once'more before his eyes. This was the end, and his masterquestion, apprehension for the answer io which was now torturing: his face and well-nigh bursting his heart, was still unasked. . i "Ho—ho that spoke with me—the master "he cried in a voice that ran high, "is he there?" "Yes, yes!" came the other voice.across the water, sick with suspense. "Oh, be quick!" . . i ' There was a moment in which hoarse cries from many voices, a heavy thud and rumble <>n wood, and a crash of timbers and a gurglo and a splash were indescribably mingled; the- gun under which Abel Keeling had lain had snapped her rotten-breechings and plunged down the deck, carrying Bligh's unconscious form with it. t The. deck camo up vertical, and for one instant longer Abel Keeling clung to the belfry. "I cannot see your face——" he screamed, "but mcseems your voice is a voico I know—what h your name?" Tu a torn sob tho-answer came acro=s the water. "Keeling—Abel Keeling . . . Oh niv Cod!" . *■ 1 And Abel Kceling's cry of triumph that mounted to a victorious -"Huzza!" was lost, in the downward plunge of tho Mary of the Tower, that left the Strait empty save, for the sun's'fiery blazc'and last smoke-like, evaporation of the mists.