little boat Lady Jane lay side up on the sea. To it clung a young girl,
well above water; near her appeared the head of a young man, a swimmer.
So far, so good. But there was something wrong about this swimmer,
something grossly discordant in his position in the picture. It
developed upon close examination that the interval between him and the
overturned boat was not decreasing. It was widening indeed; widening
quite steadily.... Yes, there it was; unfortunately no longer open to
doubt. The man was pulling for the shore and safety, leaving the girl to
sink or swim as she preferred.
The sight was a strange one, resembling a defiance of established law.
It staggered the eye, like the sight of water running uphill. People had
seen the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and kissed the Pope's toe; but they
had never seen anything like this.
A nasal, hawk-nosed individual in eye-glasses voiced the sentiments of
all: "If that's your Southern chivalry, Warlow, the less I see of it
the better."
Another spoke more sympathetically, yet with unchanged point: "Poor
Dalhousie--born to trouble! Rye whiskey an' marryin' cousins--that's
what's killed him."
A third, an elderly woman, with a rich voice, said: "I wonder what there
was between those two...."
The actual rescue proved a tame affair. Suddenly attention was diverted
from it by the cry of a certain winsome young thing, who, when the alarm
was raised, had been among the first to scream.
"Oh, _look_ at that little man. He _hit_ him!"
"Where?--Who?--Oh!"
"Serves him ri--Ah-h!"
It proved as the screamer said. The smallest rickey-drinker, not content
with sounding the alarm, had gone brilliantly bolting down the beach.
Taking his stand there at a given point, he had flung himself upon the
youth who had so ably saved his own skin, as the latter waded ashore,
and struck him savagely in the face. It was observed that the man from
the sea seemed surprised by this attack. He stared at his small
assailant in a confused sort of way; and then with passionate swiftness
|