"I owe you every obedience," the Doctor declared instantly, though there was a note of astonishment in his voice. "It shall be as you wish."
At her request, Doctor Garnet provided Ethel with his fountain-pen and some pages torn from his memorandum-book. She wrote her instructions hurriedly, folded them and gave them to the physician, who bestowed them in his coat-pocket. Then, with a short word of farewell, he set forth on his journey, while the girl, standing in the doorway, looked after him with brooding eyes. When he had disappeared from view, she seated herself on the doorstep and mused for a long time on the curious adventures through which she had passed, and of which the end was not yet come. She felt a great content over being thus alone, gladdened by a sheer relief at the absence of the Doctor. She no longer felt any fear, and presently she limped across to the bunk that had been prepared for her, where she quickly fell asleep on Ichabod's blankets. When at last she awoke, it was after a sound slumber of some hours, for the sun was now high in the heavens. She found herself greatly refreshed, and a desire came on her for the added refreshment of a plunge into the sea. There was no sign of a human being anywhere within sight, so she undressed and entered the water.
When her bath was ended, and she was again clothed, Ethel found a stick to serve her as a cane, and with its aid made a halting ascent of one of the sand dunes. She was surprised and pleased at the manifest improvement in her ankle. There remained little pain, even when her weight bore upon it in walking, and the swelling was greatly reduced, so that she was able partly to button her shoe over it. From the crest of the sand dune, she was able to look out over a wide expanse of the waters all round-about.
To the eastward, she could see for miles out over the bosom of the Atlantic. Far away in the distance, she saw a large steamer headed toward the north. At sight of it, she was swept with a sick longing to be on board, bound back to home and lover. Scattered over the surface of the Sound were visible many small sails of the fishing boats, darting to and fro, many skirting the shore. These were, however, located far away to the southwest, miles distant from where she stood. It was evident that, for the time being at least, there would be no opportunity to signal for help. A sudden realization of hunger drove her back to the shack.
Ethel gathered sticks from the shore for the rusty ramshackle stove. She lighted them with matches brought from the tender. Soon she had water boiling for coffee, and presently, with the remnants left from Mrs. Goodwin's supply, the girl was able to make a meal that seemed wonderfully savory to her sharpened appetite.
As the day lengthened, Ethel's mind busied itself with the problem of finding a means to signal her presence. There was always the possibility of the physician's failure to reach his destination. Prudence demanded that she herself should make every effort possible for relief. From her reading, she remembered how shipwrecked castaways in similar plight had used a shirt or any white garment as a flag of distress. She saw a net-pole lying on the strand, which, she believed, she could drag to the top of the sand dune, in spite of her ankle's weakness. Her muslin petticoat would serve as the banner. The idea no sooner presented itself than she proceeded to its execution. The moving and the erection of the heavy pole taxed her strength to the utmost, but it was at last accomplished, and its white flag fluttered bravely in the light breeze. Ethel looked with pride on her achievement, and dared to believe that her father, could he have seen her now, would have praised her courage and resourcefulness. She felt oddly like a soldier who has scaled the wall in the face of the enemy, and planted his flag in triumph on the rampart—though hers was a flag of truce. She surveyed her work complacently, though every muscle was aching from long-continued digging in the shifting sand with her bare hands and the tramping it into firmness about the pole.
When again she glanced out over the Sound, Ethel saw off to the northward a small skiff sailing toward her. Even at this distance, she was sure that it was approaching her refuge. It was evident that her signal had been seen. She sat down, and stared eagerly. She felt suddenly faint in the reaction of joy over the prospect of rescue. Then, a minute later, the castaway was forgotten in the woman. She hastily pulled her signal banner from the pole, wadded it under her arm, and hurried down the dune to the hut. Having accomplished its extraordinary purpose so valiantly, the white flag should now disappear to perform its ordinary useful service.
