ORIGINAL STORY

Waikato Independent, Volume XXII, Issue 2580, 3 August 1922, Page 6

ORIGINAL STORY

THE TEST The following original short story, contributed by one of the Club’s members, was read at the Cambridge Literary and Debating Club’s meeting on Monday night last: — ‘‘ I certainly do not admire her taste. He is not the kind of man I should care to marry.” As the words floated across the deck towards her, Constance Burke, the captain’s daughter, frowned.. Her eyes, blue as the sea which stretched away before her to the horizon, turned sharply upon the speaker. Molly Blake, unaware of her gaze, continued:

“He looks so awfully lazy, and lias such a drawling voice. I think he would bo a bit of a coward. I wondor—Look! Here he comes now.”

* A slow step sounded along the deck. The tall, well built figure of a youngman was striding along, his blonde head well up, lazy blue eyes lookingstraight ahead. Constance Burke turned away again. Her eyes once more lingered on the sea. which danced and glittered in the sunlight like millions of flashing diamonds. The frown deepened between * her brows.

Quite unconscious of tlie critical Stares of Molly Blake anil her companion, Paul West came on. Apparently he did not see the averted, red gold head of Constance, half hidden as it was by the back of her deck chair, and she did not turn. It was not until he had disappeared down the steps of the companion way that sne rose. Her eyes met Molly’s for the fraction of a second, and a faint blush spread over the latter’s cheeks.

“I didn’t know she was there,” whispered Molly to the girl beside her. *‘Do you think she heard?”

*‘l think he would be a bit of a coward.” That sentence repeated itself again and again in Constance’s troubled mind. Was Paul West, her fiance, really a coward? She formed a mental picture of him as she had last seen him. I-Le was tall and athletic looking, yet he never seemed to use his long limbs like any other man. He ispolte in a slow, lazy drawl- —in fact, he did everything slowly. What would he bo like in an emergency, she asked herself, and then sighed, as though the

answer were an unsatisfactory one

She had imagined herself in love With him. She had admired his attractive smile, and the deep music of his voice. Surely she could not be in love with a coward?

u Tlie groat liner rolled majestically on its way amid the deep blue of calm seas and sky. It churned the water around its stern into sheets of curling foam, which turned into an ever widening avenue in-its trail. Its wide decks were lined with passengers, many of them wealthy, possessors of everything this world can give, with the exception, pierltaps, of happiness. The great heart of the ship throbbed down below the surface of the waves. The measured tread of the officer on watch rung out, firm and determined.

Then the weather changed. A bank of heavy storm clouds - gathered over the horizon. Bit by bit they crept across the sky, blotting out the image of the sun and throwing a threatening shadow over the sea. When at last they were overhead the intense gloom resembled that of night. Constance shuddered as she hoard the first distant rumble of thunder. Large drops of ruin began to fall, pattering like tiny fairy feet along the uncovered part of the

deck. A lurid glare lit up the world of

water with a weird, unearthly light. The sea tossed in troubled waves, as though Father Neptune were in a bad temper. •

The first wild fury of the tempest soon spent itself, but torrents of rain continued to fall, while the wind-tossed waves lashed themselves against the sides of the vessel and thundered upon the lower deck. The great ship rolled unsteadily.

Paul West stepped on to the deserted upper deck. He was a keen lover of nature in her wilder moods. The heavy storm clouds drifted away towards the far off land. One or two passengers emerged from their enforced imprisonment. 1

Some distance away a boy of about seven, unnoticed by his mother, ran out on to the rain washed deck. Just then the ship gave a lurch to one side. The boy gave a half frenzied cry as his little feet slipped from under him. He fell through a space between the rails —a huge wave rolled up to receive him. Immediately there was consternation on deck. The child’s mother, appearing at that moment, gave forth a succession of wild screams, and would have flung herself overboard after the child but for the restraining arms of several women who followed her.

A little distance away a tall figure, without a moment’s 'hesitation, threw oil' his coat and boots and bounded on to the deck rail. From there he dived into the angry waters. Paul was a splendid swimmer, but for a time it scorned as if his utmost exertions would be futile. He was tossed about like a cork. With the strength otV desperation, however, he battled with the waves. Sometimes (lie curly head would be almost within his grasp, and then another wave .would carry it far beyond his reach. Once, twice, the boy sank. He appeared for the third time.

With a superhuman effort. Paul reached him, and caught him ere lie sank again.

On board,, the putting out of a boat rapidly succeeded the reversing of the engines. It pushed off towards the two whose lives were at the mercy of the waves. Gradually it drew nearer. Paul was almost exhausted by the time they dragged him into the boat. The boy’s head hung limply on one side, for consciousness had long since deserted him.

When at last the two dripping figures were landed on deck a large crowd had gathered. The ship’s doctor bustled forward to take charge of the rescued ones, but it was a long time before the boy recovered consciousness. Paul, however, was not much, the worse for his ducking.

Some time later, when Father Heptune had recovered his good temper, and the tumult he'had caused had to a certain degree abated, Constance stood on deck with her fiance. A little way off she could seen the form or Molly Blake and her friend. She glanced up at the tall figure beside her. Admiration and a certain joy of possession were reflected in her eyes. There was something more there, too. Possibly Paul, keen of perception as most lovers are, sensed it, for suddenly ho turned.

“What are you thinking of, sweetheart?” he asked. It was his usual lazy drawl, but ah, how different it sounded to her. With a little thrill in her voice she answered: “I was thinking what a bravo man. my fiance is, and how thankful I am that the sen did not. steal him - from me,” Ho bent his blonde head until it.-w.as

very near her red gold one. A pale moon sailing amid .scudding clouds, winked solemnly to itself as the words he whispered were wafted up to it. And Molly Blake turned to her friend. “/She is a lucky girl,” she murmured, indicating the captain’s daughter. “After all, her fiance is not a coward. He risked his life to save that of another.”