img Stella Fregelius: A Tale of Three Destinies  /  Chapter 9 MISS FREGELIUS | 37.50%
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Chapter 9 MISS FREGELIUS

Word Count: 3311    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

aring at the sail, which, after drawing for a time in

sked his companion. "Ha

t your spirit of prophecy still speaks smooth things, for, upon

ore? It is only a

a regular tearer. We get them sometimes o

," she said. "I am use

ten minutes or so they struggled against the ever-

elius," he said, "for now the tide is on the

u going to d

g to foam ominously over the Sunk Rocks, here and there throwing up

Far Lightship five and twenty miles away. Help me to pull up the sail. So, that's enough; she

t speed, parallel with the line of the Sunk Rocks, but being momentarily driven nearer to them. T

if you want to clear

," he answered. "You seem to know

rushed, the ever-fresh

d Stella, as a little water

k; only bidding his companion hold the tiller, he did something

very near th

to be officious, but I suggest that y

so. Then suddenly she lifted it again and stared at

d now and again through the surf, like the fin of a black whale. That was the rock which they must clear if they would live. Morris

s instinctively, but S

gainst it; the boat touched, and Stella felt a long ribbon of seaweed cut her like a whip across the face. Kneeling down, Morris thrust

was behind, the sail drew, and swiftly they fl

while Morris wiped th

r?" she aske

orth Sea is in front of us, and what looks like the w

at we ought to weather it," she said, trying to speak cheerfully,

to eat," she added pres

lunch for myself and the boatman; but the fish wouldn't bite, so we came back without

d a large lump of cheese for the boatman, a flask of whiskey, a bottle of beer, another of water, and two of soda. They ate

for twenty-four hours with the bread and ch

e shall not starve. I never thought that sandwiches we

you may want it later," she s

ing of the strain upon his nerves had made him conversational, "what

smiled, a sweet smile that

he men were fighting, and, if they had the strength, in the hour of their own death. I believe that is true, for she died whispering it herself; yes, it grew fainter and fainter until it ceased with her breath. So, when I thought that my hour

ge young lady," said

at their traditions and spirit still lived on in me, their poor modern child. Think how glad they mu

e up in his mind of her forebears, scores and hundreds of them gathered at some ghostly Walhalla feast, listening to the familiar paean

as though she

s only natural," she said; "and I have a gre

ill exist in some shape or

k, is the real world. The rest is a nightmare; at least, it seems like a

ing like that," said Morris refle

try not to be afraid. I daresay, however, I mean the same as they

ant that for them de

ir thought, and that is my thought; and," she adde

oncentrate it; I have never seen things,

wanted an interpreter. Perhaps I am that interpreter-for the moment." Then she added: "Were you afraid just now? Don

"I suppose that I

when we bumped against th

an newly awakened, "I could think of nothing but that song of yours, which you sang upon the

he asked, as though

am en

and she stop

en in her mind, and of a s

," he answered, with a flash of ange

st when we bumped against the rock. But it is odd that you should believe that you remembered my song, for, according to tradition, that is just what the chant should do, and what it always did. Its ancie

s nonsense!" h

erstand my nonsense so well? Tell me

elieve, in t

of yours may have heard the song of the Over-Lord, perhaps from the lips

l scarcely bear a

ld song, as my ancestors did before me. I mean, that as I thought I had to die, I liked to ke

egelius, to drop jests, it is blowing very hard off land; the sea is getting up, and this is but a small boat. We are d

Stella. "Is there anything to

but even if we succeed, I don't know whether it will be

come out to look f

will be supposed either that I have foundered or made some port along the coast. There

e," she added in explanation, "I don't even know your name or where you come from, only that

ld not help a smile; really th

nventor-or try to be-in the electrical line. My name is Morris Monk, and I am the son

ow foolish of me not to guess. You are my father's principal n

What did he say?

y want to kno

w I shall be grateful for anyth

e not to bear malice

has gone away, and I don't

he chose, who intensely disliked growing old. He said that he thought of himself more than of anybody else in the world, and next of the wel

Morris, "a good picture of my father's weak

ngs which usually attract young men, and that you were in practice almost a misogynist. He added that, although heretofore you had not succeeded, he thought that you

thought that pompous old Tomley had so much observation." Then he added quickly, to change the subject, since the possible discussion

of water. I suppose that after the vessel struck, the sailors, thinking that she was going down, got off at once, taking my father, who had been

d when you found yourse

ngry with them for deserting me, that I forgot to be frightened, and afterwards-well, I was too

d his shoulder

tances, we may as well keep our thoughts on this world-while it lasts. You have not told me, Mr.

November fog, with every chance of a gale coming up, to the Sunk Rocks in this cockle-shell, and alone, m

u come? Were you fishing? Men will risk a great dea

, Miss Fregelius? You must know perfe

as still on the ship, or that the ship was still above water? And even if you knew both, wh

d speak a little bad French said that the Trondhjem was lost upon some rocks. Well, these are the only rocks about here; and as the

share them-the risks that are so near and real;" and, shivering visibly, she looked at the grey combers seething past t

orris. "At any rate, you see

end in your being taken away from the world before y

be done. But although we may be in danger

, and in life or out of it I should never forgive myself-never! n

over what you cannot he

ou," she answered; "but the

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