Five months had been devoted to “ameliorating the condition of the Sargasson women.” Her cares had been lightened to such an extent that she knew nothing about her own household as a rule, but was thoroughly acquainted with every detail regarding the affairs of her neighbors. She had begun to observe and comment upon the dress and the personal adornment of her best friends. She had taken to staining her cheeks with the juice of the ogalla berry—not to render her more beautiful and attractive to her husband, but to rouse the envy of her own sex.
Covetousness, a vice that had been unknown among these people previously, made its appearance, and some of the women devoted all their time to plotting how they might secure the most highly prized heirlooms that their friends possessed. Already several very scandalous charges have been made to the Chief Kantoon, involving undue influence and insinuating theft.
But the climax was reached one dark night, when the Sacred Light was flashed high into a sky of inky blackness. No intimation whatever as to the cause of its sudden appearance had been received over the sea-root telegraph, and I have no doubt that on every ship, as on the Caribas, the deepest suspense was felt while the awful import of the glowing message in the sky was being slowly deciphered. With a movement, regular as the swinging of a pendulum, the searchlight was thrown east or west, north or south, southeast or northwest, until enough of the message had been imparted to enable every Sargasson to guess the rest.
I was not familiar enough in reading the signals of the Sacred Light to grasp the startling intelligence it conveyed. Fidette and my first officer, who stood near me, threw themselves upon their faces on the deck, exhibiting signs of abject terror. In vain I shook the first mate; then I strove to raise my wife to her feet.
Taking Fidette in my arms, I was about to carry her to her cabin, when I detected members of the crew dropping overboard from various parts of the ship. One sailor rushed past me, and threw himself headlong into the sea. These acts of my men filled me with consternation. Before my eyes members of my crew were drowning themselves because of the information that the Sacred Light had flashed to them!
Carrying Fidette to her cabin, I placed her on the sofa, applied to her nostrils a bottle of strong salts that had been in my locker, and she soon revived. I could hear the men rushing about the deck in the utmost confusion. I was still completely mystified. My only hope was an explanation from Fidette. The light in the cabin was furnished by a large piece of rotten wood, suspended from the ceiling by a cord. It was the fox-fire familiar to all woodsmen. By the aid of this light I saw Fidette’s eyes slowly open, but in them was a look of fear and mental distress, such as I never saw exhibited by a human being. I spoke to her again and again. I entreated for an explanation. Suddenly she roused herself and sat bolt upright. She appeared oblivious of my presence. She allowed me to take her hand, but appeared unconscious of passionate and sympathetic words. Finally her lips moved, and she fairly screamed in a tone of agony and remorse:
“We are lost!”
“Lost!” I exclaimed; “what has happened, my darling? What calamity can overcome us? I am here to protect you. I can defend you against the entire power of the Sargasson people—at least, I can do so as long as there is life in me. Speak, sweet one. Do speak!”
“Oh, we are lost!” and the poor, little creature burst into a hysterical fit of weeping. To no effect did I fold her in my arms and hold her cheek close to mine, and, somewhat rudely, perhaps, brushed the long, floating hair from her cold brow. She would explain no further.