NEVER IN HIS LIFE HAD HE BEHELD A WOMAN SO FAIR.
Armitage stood transfixed, his pulse throbbing furiously, his heart in his mouth. For a moment the beast was aroused. His eyes sparkled sensually, incoherent sounds issued from between his clenched teeth. A kiss on that gently curved, sensitive mouth would be as near a taste of heaven as ever he would get. He'd be a fool to hesitate. They were alone—he and this girl—not a human being was within a thousand miles of them. The chances of rescue were infinitesimal. They had escaped the waves only to die of starvation—that was certain. If they must die—to-day—to-morrow—or the next day—why deny oneself any joy that the world still had to offer? Thus he argued, not in these words, but in feverish, unreasoning, reckless thought. Boldly he approached her. His face was flushed, his eyes were ardent as they took in every voluptuous detail of her motionless form. He advanced closer, and, bending over her, stood for a moment fascinated by the sight of her bare, alabaster-like skin and perfectly modeled arms. Never in his life had he beheld a woman so fair.
Suddenly she stirred and uttered a low moan. Armitage sprang back and looked around guiltily. Only the screaming sea-gulls were there to witness his discomfiture, yet his face had the expression of one detected in an unworthy action. Again Grace moaned and stirred as if in pain. He stood irresolute, embarrassed, not knowing what to do to help her, trying to feel that he didn't care, surly and ill-tempered because he felt contempt for himself. What was this woman's suffering to him? She belonged to the class he now hated, the detested plutocracy upon which he had declared war. The money she spent on her finery and pleasures was no doubt gotten by cheating such poor fellows as he out of their rights. Let her have her share of hard knocks. He chuckled to himself as he reflected on life's ironies. Only a few brief hours ago, on the luxuriously appointed liner, she was everything, he was nothing. She was the grand lady, the pampered cabin passenger; he was the despised stoker, hardly to be counted among human beings. Suddenly what an astounding revolution! A cataclysm, and all was changed—distinctions of birth, education, and wealth were instantly abolished. Now they were merely two helpless human beings cast away on a deserted island in the lonely mid-ocean, one dependent upon the other, one no better than the other. They had returned to primeval conditions. In what way was she his superior now?
Thus arguing to himself, he took fresh courage and drew nearer. She was certainly pretty, there was no getting away from that, and he—was a man!
Lying there, pale, soaked, bedraggled, Grace looked the picture of utter misery. Of the artificial aids to good looks which women in their vanity love to employ, not one remained, yet even with every adjunct of self-adornment gone she was still beautiful. The exuberant spirits and pride of bearing were no longer there, only a sad, wistful, pallid loveliness that was even more potent in its appeal than the radiant, gay, fashionably gowned, proud beauty who had attracted his gaze when, from his place of concealment among the ventilators, he had gloomily watched the brilliant scene on the promenade-deck.
She made no attempt to move. Still stunned by the awful calamity which had so swiftly overtaken the steamer, her ears still ringing with the despairing cries of her friends as they were swept to their deaths, her brain was a blank. She could not think or reason. Every sense seemed paralyzed. She felt no sensations of hunger or thirst. She was surprised to find herself still alive. All she remembered was the terrible explosion, the frenzied scramble for the boats, and then all at once she found herself in the water, swimming, trying to keep herself afloat. How she reached the shore she did not know. A man had caught her as she was sinking, and in a vague sort of way she thought he was one of the crew. She wondered where she was and why her body ached so. The air chilled her bare shoulders. She shivered, moaned, and opened her eyes.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, advancing.
This abrupt breaking of the long silence by the sound of a human voice seemed strange to her. She thought she was dreaming, and she smiled faintly at the absurdity of it.