The experiment, to our great delight, was entirely successful and satisfactory; and when we had fixed the down-haul rope securely to a buoy we set sail and returned feeling highly encouraged at the outlook for our labors.
As this business of pulling down and affixing the calabashes was likely to be a long and tedious job, to be successfully prosecuted only in good weather, we determined to begin it as soon as we could get a sufficient number of cages ready for a start; and thus we could work in suitable weather at the wreck attaching the cages, and in unsuitable weather at home in preparing them for attachment. It would be only at the very last that we need watch for the wreck to rise, and prepare for towing her in to shore. Until enough calabashes to float her had been sent down, such as were attached would of course be simply anchored to the wreck.
It was oppressively warm that evening after we had returned home, and we all brought our chairs down to the shed to better enjoy the slight breeze which breathed in from the sea. We sat thus, watching the breakers roll in through the dim light, and crash on the sand with a long, running sound that passed from left to right along the beach, slow but regular as heart-beats in their constant reiteration. Mr. Millward was seated at a little distance from Alice and me enjoying his pipe, the fire in the bowl of which shone at intervals with a red glow, as though in rhythmic sympathy with the sound of the surf. The stars were bright and sprinkled all over the clear, dark sky, which was lit now and then by the long, fiery thread of a meteor ruled rapidly across the azure dome, and lingering as an impression on the retina long enough so that by turning the eye away the line of fire was transported to another quarter,—fading out, however, too fast for us to locate it distinctly.
It was a peaceful, quiet summer night, and we sat silent, enjoying together the restfulness of it. I looked at the dim outlines of Alice as she sat by my side leaning her cheek upon one hand, and my heart was filled with conscious depths of love and tenderness; then past her at the shadowy figure of the old man and the intermittent glow of his pipe. A great peace seemed to possess my soul, a wonderful content of spirit, and I said to myself, “This is the peace of pure content and happiness.” Often since have I recalled that night, and felt that man, born to trouble and sorrow on this earth,—beautiful though it be,—can hope for no greater bliss than such hours afford him. Happy hours come not at call, nor often, nor long remain. Satisfied ambition brings them not, nor gratified pride, nor gathered wealth; but they come only when there is united this trinity of conditions: rest from labor done, the healthy body, the presence of those we love. When these three things are united, the peaceful, happy hour will come. And when this sweet angel of peace shall hover over you, drive it not away, my friend, by taking troubled thought of the morrow, nor by grieving over the past, nor regretting opportunities missed. Enjoy it in contented silence while you may, and with little thought of past or future.
An unusually brilliant meteor shot in a long diagonal line from the zenith nearly to the horizon, and there burst in a ball of fire like a rocket. Alice laid her hand on my arm as though to call my attention, but without a word. The touch was light; the little hand remained but a moment on my arm, and was then as gently withdrawn. But, light and momentary, it thrilled me through and through; the angel of peace took instant flight, and thought came back with a rush. The restless fear that we might be parted; that she could never love me; the instinctive wish to know with certainty her heart; a thousand contending emotions stirred me. With all my will I strove to calm myself and still the wild beating of my heart. What strange power was this which the girl had acquired over me, that a mere touch of her hand sufficed to banish quiet, fill my brain with teeming fancies and my breast with longing and unrest? The quiet stars still shone as before, the surf still fell in measured cadence, the gentle, rustling breeze still fanned my cheek with its soft, cool breath; but peace and quiet and rest had departed. My soul was fevered, and anxiety preyed once more upon my heart.
The night-blooming cereus had unfolded its waxen, white flowers, and the warm air was laden with its strange, sweet perfume mingling with the fragrance of the dew-moistened foliage. Now there stole up out of the verge of the sea the thin, pale crescent of the young moon, a mere rounded line of silver tilted back as though reclining in its new feebleness, and giving but little more light than the brilliant lamp of Venus that hung, a point of corruscating splendor, near it.
Again, as the silver horn emerged from the dim horizon line, I felt the soft touch of her hand upon my arm, and in low tones she said, “Is it not beautiful?”
For answer I took the hand in mine. Cool and soft it felt to my fevered grasp. She withdrew it not, but, passive, let it lie for a few minutes. Some say that souls while still embodied do and can communicate with each other in some occult and mysterious way. If that be true, then surely my soul must then and there have greeted Alice Millward’s.
Mr. Millward, who had once or twice nodded over his pipe, now rose and knocking out the ashes reminded us that it was time to go to bed; and he and Alice retired to the house. As I had no fancy to be shut up in-doors on such a night, I brought my hammock down to the shed and swung it there where the sound of the sea would lull me to sleep, while the breeze fanned by with its cool breath.
The next morning we went diligently to work caging the calabashes in sets of four, rigging each cage with its short attaching rope and hook. The hooks I cut with axe and knife from the bushes of the nearest jungle. The work was congenial and light. Under the shed we arranged some tussocks of dried grass so that we could be seated low down; and thus ranged in a sociable triangle we worked, chatted, laughed, and joked; the old gentleman revived his experiences of former years; and altogether it was a very pleasant time. Whenever the weather was favorable we would load the completed cages of calabashes on board Mr. Millward’s boat, and all three of us would sail to the galleon and sink and attach them one at a time, in the manner already indicated.