_^M^M*H
 
 THE ISLAND OF REGENERATION
 
 SHE NESTLED IN HIS ARMS WITH A SENSE 
 OF JOY AND SATISFACTION AND 
 
 HELPLESSNESS" (Page 147)
 
 The Island of 
 Regeneration 
 
 A Story of What ought to be 
 By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY 
 
 Author of Richard the Brazen," etc. 
 
 WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY THE KINNEYS 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 COPTRIGHT, 1909, BY W. G. CHAPMAlJ 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 
 Published, September, IQOQ 
 
 Second Edition, September, 1909 
 Third Edition, November, 1909 
 Fourth Edition, November, 1909 
 Fifth Edition, January, 1910 
 Sixth Edition March, 1910
 
 fita* 
 
 TS 
 
 1=3.0 
 
 11/0 
 
 With constantly increasing affection and admiration, 
 
 I dedicate this book to my friend, 
 
 BEVERLY E. WARNER
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I. THE ISLAND 
 
 CHAPTER *AGK 
 
 I THE PRIMITIVE NORM . . w r.i M 3 
 
 II CONSCIOUS OF His MANHOOD >, ,., M ,., 17 
 
 III THE WORD OF THE BOOK , ; M w M ,.. 33 
 
 IV LESSON AND LABOR . . ., t ., r.i 1.1 w 54 
 V. THE VOICES OF THE PAST > ; [., M 66 
 
 BOOK II. THE SHIP 
 
 VI THE BASELESS FABRIC . :rt ,.- M M ,. : 81 
 
 VII THE JOY OF FREEDOM . r . : w ^ M r.i 91 
 
 VIII CAST UP BY THE SEA ,., ^ w i., t ., 107 
 
 BOOK III. THE REVELATION 
 
 IX LATENT PASSIONS . -. M :.: w M :.: 123 
 
 X HEARTS AWAKENED . . , ,. : . :.. 139 
 
 XI THE CONSCIENCE QUICKENED ^ ,.: . .: 153 
 
 XII THE SHIP ON THE HORIZON , ... : . , 166 
 
 BOOK IV. THE COMING OE THE WORLD 
 
 XIII THE LONG SEARCH . ,., >, ,. ; ; . . . 181 
 
 XIV PAST AND PRESENT . 19? 
 
 XV ACCUSATION AND ADMISSION .... 209 
 
 XVI CONFRONTED ......... 219 
 
 XVII THE WOMAN S PLEA .., *.. M M M , . 236
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTEB PAGE 
 
 XVIII DIVIDED . . . 256 
 
 XIX THE MAN S FAILURE 270 
 
 XX THE REPENTANCE THAT CAME Too LATE 283 
 
 BOOK V. ABANDONED 
 
 XXI THE RESURRECTION . 303 
 
 XXII UNAVAILING APPEAL . . . . . ... 314 
 
 BOOK VI. THE NEW LIFE 
 
 XXIII A GREAT PURPOSE ....... 329 
 
 XXIV A PROMISE BROKEN ......... 34* 
 
 XXV UNITED . . . ... .: . 35 1
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " She nestled in his arms with a sense of joy 
 and satisfaction and helplessness" (page 
 147) Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 " He held in his hand fruit of some kind. It 
 might have been poison. What mattered 
 it?" 10 
 
 " Thou shalt not kill! " 224 
 
 " She had sacrificed herself, buried herself alive 
 for him" 306
 
 BOOK I 
 THE ISLAND
 
 THE PRIMITIVE NORM 
 
 WHETHER she had fainted or fallen asleep, she did 
 not know, but of this one thing she was sure: it 
 had been dark when consciousness left her and it 
 was now broad day, although the light seemed to 
 come to her with a greenish tinge which was quite 
 unfamiliar. The transition between her state of yes 
 terday and that of to-day was as great as if she had 
 been born into morning from the womb of midnight. 
 Like a young animal vaguely stirring she drank in 
 life blindly with closed eyes. She could hear the 
 thunderous roaring of the breakers crashing upon 
 the barrier reef. Alone her boat had been 
 wrecked in the darkness of the night before the 
 noise softened and, mellowed by distance, came to 
 her in a deep, low accompaniment to the sharper and 
 nearer sounds of the birds singing and the breeze 
 rustling gently through the long leaves of the trees 
 overhead. 
 
 The dry sand on which she lay was soft and yield 
 ing and made a comfortable bed for her tired body, 
 racked with weary days in the constraint and nar 
 rowness of a small boat. It was hot, too. She 
 had been drenched and cold when she scrambled on 
 the shore and fell prostrate on the beach, retaining
 
 4 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 just strength enough and purpose enough to crawl 
 painfully inward to where the tall palms grew be 
 fore she lapsed in whatsoever way it might have 
 been into oblivion, and the warmth of the shore was 
 very grateful to her. 
 
 Incoherent thoughts raced through her bewildered 
 brain; each one, however, bringing her a little nearer 
 the awakening point of realization. Then there 
 ran through her young body a primal pang which 
 dispelled the tremulous and vague illusions which 
 her fancy had woven about herself as she lay warm 
 and snug and sunny at the foot of the tall trees. She 
 realized that she was frightfully thirsty, so thirsty 
 that she did not know how hungry she was. 
 
 The demand of the material awakened the ani 
 mal in her. Her thoughts centered instantly; they 
 were at once localized on one supreme desire. Coin- 
 cidently her eyes unclosed, and she sat up, blinking 
 in the strong light. The rising sun, still low on 
 the horizon, smote her full in the eyes and left her 
 for the moment dazed again. She sat leaning upon 
 her hands extended behind her back, staring sea 
 ward, saying nothing, thinking nothing, until a 
 strange sound to the right of her attracted her at 
 tention. It was a sound made by a human voice, 
 and yet it was like nothing human that she had ever 
 heard. It was a wordless, languageless ejaculation, 
 but it aroused her interest at once despite her mate 
 rial cravings.
 
 She weakly turned her head, and there, standing 
 erect with folded arms, looking down upon her, was 
 a man. He was unclothed entirely save for a fan 
 tastic girdle of palm leaves about his waist. She 
 stared at him puzzled, amazed, affrighted. He re 
 turned her look with an intent curiosity in which 
 there was no suggestion of evil purpose, rather a 
 great incomprehension, an amazing wonderment. 
 There was nothing about him, save the fact that he 
 was there, which should have caused any alarm in 
 her heart, for with a woman s swift mastery of the 
 possibilities of the other sex, she noticed in her 
 vague terror and wonderment that he was remark 
 ably good to look at. Indeed, she thought that she 
 had never seen so splendid a specimen of physical 
 manhood as that before her. In color he was white. 
 Save that he was bronzed by the tropic sun, he was 
 perhaps whiter than she was. His hair, which hung 
 about his head in a wild, matted tangle, not unpic- 
 turesque, was golden ; his eyes bright blue. Beneath 
 his beard, unkempt but short and curly, she could 
 see his firm, clean-cut lips. His proportions were 
 superb. He was limbed and chested like the Apollo 
 Belvidere. In him grace and strength strove for 
 predominance. He was totally unlike all that she 
 had read of the aborigines of the South Seas. 
 
 Instantly she saw him he naturally became the ob 
 ject of her undivided attention. There was much 
 in Nature that might have awakened her interest.
 
 6 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She sat in the shadow of great palms; below her 
 hung a long reach of sand dazzlingly white in the 
 sun. Bordering this was a smooth expanse of sea, 
 waveless and still and bluer than any heaven she had 
 ever looked into. Beyond that ran the jagged edge 
 of the barrier reef, white-crested with foam from 
 long assaulting breakers rolling landward over 
 countless leagues of seas. Back of her and on either 
 side the ground, gently undulating, was covered with 
 the luxuriant verdure of the tropics. The island 
 was set in the blue of the Pacific like an emerald 
 bordered with pearls and sunk in a great sapphire 
 of flashing light. She would have time to grow 
 accustomed to this scene. Through weary days of 
 staring seaward and longing for that which never 
 came, it would be imprinted upon her soul, etched 
 upon her consciousness with a graver s burin of un 
 satisfied desire. But for the moment the one object 
 of her faculties was the man. Before Nature, in 
 Nature, throughout Nature, the supreme interest is 
 always in Man. 
 
 In her surprise, astonishment, admiration, and curi 
 osity she even forgot for the moment that she was 
 hungry and that she was thirsty; that she was starv 
 ing for food and dying for water while she looked 
 upon him. She was not the first woman nor will 
 she be the last to forget earth and sea and every 
 material passion while she looked upon a man. So 
 Eve might have looked on Adam, awakening in the
 
 primal dawn. Nay, from his view point, so Adam 
 might have looked on Eve at that selfsame hour. 
 For this woman had looked on many men ; this man 
 had seen no woman but this at least since he clung 
 to his mother s breast! 
 
 It was the man who broke the silence, as it had 
 been the man whose hard stare had broken the 
 spell of her slumber although she knew it not. He 
 made that queer little chuckling noise in his throat 
 which sounded familiar enough, albeit she had heard 
 it from the lips of no man before. It meant nothing 
 to her except that he who stood before her at least 
 was not dumb, although the noise he made was cer 
 tainly no articulate speech as she knew speech or 
 could imagine it. 
 
 At any rate it was a stimulus to her. She opened 
 her own parched lips and strove to make reply, but 
 her thirst, with a rising terror and nervousness, 
 made her dumb and no sound came forth. The man 
 might be preparing to kill her. He could do so, if 
 he willed, she thought, but she must drink or die. 
 If she could not speak, she could make signs. She 
 leaned forward, raised her arm, hollowed her hand 
 and dipped as if from a well and made as if to pour 
 it into her lips. Then she stretched out both her 
 hands to him in the attitude of petition. The man 
 stared hard at her. His brow wrinkled. It was 
 such a simple sign that any savage would have com 
 prehended it, she thought, and yet it appeared to
 
 8 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 her, watching in despair, that it took a long time 
 for the idea to beat into his brain. She could wait 
 no longer. She rose to her knees and stretched out 
 her hands again. 
 
 " Water 1 " she gasped in a hoarse whisper. 
 "Water, or I die!" 
 
 The man had started violently at her speech. 
 Giving him no time to recover, she went through 
 the motion again, this time with greater effect, for 
 the man turned and vanished. She sank down on 
 the sand too exhausted to follow him even with her 
 eyes. If he brought the water, she would drink it 
 and live; if he did not, she would lie where she was 
 and die. She did not care much, she thought, which 
 would happen. She had so sickened of life before 
 she essayed that open boat, that she believed it was 
 simply an animal craving in her which would make 
 her take the water in case it should be brought her. 
 And yet when he did appear with a cocoanut shell 
 brimming with clear, sparking liquid, she felt 
 as though the elixir of life had been proffered 
 her. 
 
 She seized the shell with both hands, which yet 
 so trembled that most of the precious water spilled 
 on her dress as she carried it to her parched lips. 
 This was good ip the end, for if that vessel had been 
 the famed Jotunheim drinking horn, she would have 
 drained it dry ere she set it down. As it was, she 
 got but little; yet that little was enough to set her
 
 The Island 9 
 
 heart beating once more. Emptying the shell of 
 the last drop and with that keenness of percep 
 tion which her long training had intensified and 
 developed, marking the while that it had not been 
 cut clean by any knife or saw or human implement, 
 but was jagged and broken as if from a fall, she 
 dropped it on the sand and looked again toward the 
 man. He held in his hand fruit of some kind, she did 
 not know what it was. It might have been poison. 
 What mattered it? Having drunk she must also 
 eat. She took it. It looked edible, it was inviting 
 to the eye, and as she sunk her teeth into it, she 
 found it agreeable to the taste also. He had brought 
 it to her. If he had meant harm, present harm, 
 surely he would not have given the water. She ate 
 it confidently. 
 
 As the man saw her partake of what he had given 
 her, he clapped his hands and laughed. She was 
 grateful for that laugh. It was more human than 
 the babbling sounds which he had made before. 
 
 There was but little of the fruit, just what a child 
 would have brought, and this again was good for 
 her, for had there been an abundance, in her need 
 she would have eaten until she made herself ill. 
 When she had eaten, she rose to her feet. Before 
 doing this she had extended her hand to him as if 
 seeking assistance, but he had simply stared at her 
 uncomprehending and she had been forced to get 
 to her feet unaided. Once standing, she trembled
 
 IO The Island of Regeneration 
 
 and would have fallen but that she caught his arm 
 and steadied herself by holding tightly to it. The 
 man at her touch started back. Color came and 
 went In his face; little shudders swept over him; his 
 mouth opened; he looked at her with a singular ex 
 pression of awe not unmixed with terror in his eyes, 
 for this was the first time in his recollection, or what 
 would have been his recollection if his retrospective 
 faculties had been developed, that he had ever felt 
 the touch of a woman s hand, of any human hand 
 upon him. 
 
 Noticing his peculiar demeanor in the, to her, 
 perfectly natural situation, the woman, summoning 
 some of the remains of the reserve of force which 
 is in every human body until life is gone, released 
 his arm and stared about her, leaning against the 
 trunk of the nearest palm. This time, and for the 
 first time, she took in that great expanse of sea, 
 lonely yet beautiful, upon which her eyes were to 
 look so often. Out of the deep and the night she 
 had come. Into what deep and into what day had 
 she arrived? 
 
 She turned and surveyed the shore. The beach 
 curved sharply to the right and to the left, the long 
 barrier reef following roughly is contour until 
 the land obscured it on either side. Back of her 
 stretched a grove of palms and back of that rose 
 a hill; its crest, bare and craglike, towered above a 
 sea of verdure. Through a chance vista she saw the
 
 HE HELD IX HIS HAND FRUIT OF SOME 
 
 KIND. ... IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN 
 
 POISON. WHAT MATTERED IT?"
 
 The Island n 
 
 mass of rock as a mountain peak. On one side of 
 her high precipitous cliffs ran down close to the 
 shore and shut out the view. Over them water fell 
 to the beach. 
 
 Save in the person of the man beside her there 
 was not an evidence of humanity anywhere. No 
 curl of smoke rose above the trees. No distant call 
 of human voices smote the fearful hollow of her 
 car. The breeze made music in the tall palms and 
 in the thick verdure farther up the hillside, birds 
 sang softly here and there, but about her a tropic still 
 ness prevailed, to which -.ne great heaving diapason on 
 the distant barriers wr.s a foundation of sound upon 
 which to build a lonciy quiet. Human beings there 
 might be, there must be, on that island, if island it 
 were; but if so, they must be abiding on the farther 
 side. She and the man were alone. 
 
 Standing on her feet, with a slight renewal of her 
 strength from what she had eaten and drunk, the 
 woman now felt less fear of the man. He had 
 treated her kindly. His aspect was gentle, even 
 amiable. He looked at her wistfully, bending his 
 brows from time to time and ever and again shaking 
 his head, as a great dog looks at the master with 
 whom he would fain speak, whose language he would 
 fain understand, to whom he would fain impart 
 his own ideas if he could. 
 
 She stared at him perplexed. She was entirely 
 at loss what to do, until her eyes, roving past him,
 
 12 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 detected a dark object on the water line just where 
 the still blueness touched the white sand. The sun 
 light was reflected from a surface of metal, and 
 thinking that she recognized it, she stepped from 
 the shade of the palms and made her way unsteadily 
 toward it. The man, without a sound, followed 
 closely at her side. 
 
 Her vision had been correct, for she drew out of 
 the sand a leather handbag, such as women carry. 
 It had been elaborately fitted with bottles and mir 
 rors and toilet articles. Alas, it was in a sad state 
 of dilapidation now. The bottles were broken, 
 their contents gone. The bag had been lying in the 
 boat when it had been hurled on the barrier in the 
 night, and the same storm and tide which had borne 
 her ashore had cast it also on the sand. It had come 
 open in the battering and its contents were pitiably 
 ruined. With eager eyes and fingers she examined 
 everything. She found intact a little mirror, a pair 
 of scissors, a little housewife, which was not a part 
 of the fittings, and she wondered how it failed of 
 being washed away, two combs, and a package of 
 hairpins. 
 
 She had fought against starvation and thirst and 
 loneliness and despair as she had fought against 
 men, and she had not given way. She had set her 
 teeth and locked her hands and endured hardship 
 like the stoutest-hearted, most-determined soldier in 
 the history of human struggles. But as the real-
 
 The Island 13 
 
 ization of this small misfortune burst upon her, she 
 sank down on the sands and put her head in her 
 hands and sobbed. Tears did her good. She had 
 her cry out, utterly unhindered, for the man stood 
 by, shaking his head and staring at her and making 
 those strange little sounds, but offering in no way to 
 molest her. 
 
 The water was beautifully clear and she could see 
 on the other side of the barrier the remains of her 
 boat. Perhaps some time, if there were need, she 
 could get at that boat, but for the present all the 
 flotsam and jetsam of her wild and fearful voyage 
 lay in a water-soaked bag full of broken glass and 
 battered silver from which she had rescued a pair of 
 scissors, a mirror, two combs, a housewife full of 
 rusty needles, and some hairpins. O vanitas van- 
 it atum! 
 
 She was wearing a serviceable dress of blue serge 
 with a sailor s blouse and a short skirt. Putting her 
 precious treasure trove within the loose blouse and 
 carrying the battered bag, which she meant to ex 
 amine more carefully later, she turned and made 
 for the shade of the trees again. For one thing, 
 the sun, rising rapidly, was gaining power and beat 
 ing down with great force upon her bare head. She 
 had enjoyed the protection of a wonderfully plaited 
 straw hat on her long voyage, else she could not 
 have borne the heat, but that, too, was gone. 
 
 As she walked inward, she noticed again off to her
 
 14 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 right that stream of water which dropped over the 
 tall cliff in a slender waterfall making a sweet in 
 viting pool at the base before it ran through the 
 sands toward the sea. She made her way thither 
 and at the brink knelt down and took long draughts 
 of it. Eating and drinking evidently went together 
 in the mind of the man, for when she raised her 
 head, she found him standing before her with both 
 hands filled with some of the fruit she had partaken 
 of before and other fruit. She thought she recog 
 nized the breadfruit and a species of banana. At 
 any rate, she ate again and, having by this time re 
 covered to some extent her mental poise, she ate 
 sparingly and with caution. 
 
 Then having satisfied her material needs, she 
 knelt down by the stream again and washed her face 
 and hands. How sweet was the freshness of that 
 water to her face, burned by the sun and the wind 
 and subjected for a long time to the hard spray of 
 the briny seas ! She would have been glad to have 
 taken off her clothing and plunged into the pool, to 
 have washed the salt of days from her tired body, 
 to have had the stimulus and refreshment of Its 
 sparkling coolness over her weary limbs. But in 
 the presence of her doglike attendant this was not 
 yet possible. 
 
 Still she could and must arrange her hair. Of 
 all the articles in her dressing bag, she was more 
 fervently thankful at that moment for the combs 
 than anything else, the combs and the little mirror
 
 The Island i$ 
 
 and the hairpins small things indeed, but human 
 happiness as a rule turns on things so small that 
 the investigator and promoter thereof generally 
 overlook them. And we know not the significance 
 of the little until upon some desert island we are 
 left with only that. 
 
 Washed, fed, and dressed for it is astonishing 
 the difference that the neat coils in which she ar 
 ranged her hair made in her appearance and now 
 in her right mind, she rose to her feet. As she did 
 so, as an experiment, she handed the man the little 
 silver-backed mirror. He stared into it and again 
 uttered that cry of surprise. Then he turned it 
 around as if to look on the other side. Then he 
 looked again and still again. She took it from 
 him unresisting; his eyes full of strange terror. 
 Life was full of surprises for him that day. He had 
 not only been touched by a woman, but he had 
 looked at a man as well. 
 
 She put the mirror into her waist and then looked 
 at her watch. By a miracle it was still running, and 
 in a panic lest it should run down and she be time 
 less, she wound it up again, while he watched her 
 with the same great interest. She would learn pres 
 ently that time on that island was the least notable 
 of all facts and the least valuable of all the things 
 that she had to spend. 
 
 It was still early, about eight o clock. How was 
 she to pass the day? She must do something. She 
 felt she could not sit idly staring from sea to shore.
 
 16 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She must be moving. No business called her; she 
 must invent some. The compelling necessity of a 
 soul not born for idleness was upon her. She would 
 explore the land. That was logically the first thing 
 to be done any way, and this was a highly trained 
 woman who thought to live by rule and law, albeit 
 her rules were poor ones. 
 
 She started inland, the man following after. She 
 had gained confidence in herself with every passing 
 moment. , The man who looked at her as a dog she 
 would treat as one. She must have some privacy. 
 She could not always have him trailing at her heels. 
 She turned by a great boulder, pointed to it, laid 
 her hand on the man s shoulder and gently forced 
 him to a sitting position by it. Then she walked 
 away. He stared wistfully after her departing fig 
 ure, and as she turned around to look at him, he 
 sprang to his feet. 
 
 "No, no! " she cried imperatively, making back 
 ward threatening motions with her hands, whereat 
 he resumed his sitting position, staring at her until 
 he lost her among the trees. 
 
 Presently she turned and came back to him. It 
 was so deathly lonely without him. He leaped to 
 his feet as he sa^ her coming and clapped his hands 
 as a child might have done, his face breaking out 
 into a smile that was both trustful and touching. 
 She felt better since she had him under this control, 
 and together they walked on under the trees.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 CONSCIOUS OP HIS MANHOOD 
 
 HIGH noon, and they were back at the Banding place, 
 and she at least was very tired. Accompanied by 
 the man, who made not the slightest attempt to guide 
 her, after some difficulty she had succeeded in forc 
 ing her way through the trees to the top of the hill. 
 Part of the time she had followed the course of the 
 rivulet from which she had drunk at the foot of the 
 cliff. She was determined to get to the top, for she 
 must see what was upon the other side. Humanity s 
 supreme desire when facing the hills has always been 
 to see what was on the other side. The stimulus of 
 the unknown was upon her, but it was coupled with 
 a very lively wish begot of stern necessity to know 
 what there was to be known of the land upon which 
 she had been cast up by the sea. 
 
 Her view from the hilltop she did not essay the 
 unclothed and jagged peak, she could make her 
 way around its base and see all that there was to see 
 was not reassuring. She could detect on the other 
 side of the island no more evidences of life than 
 were presented by that she had first touched upon. 
 In every direction lay the unvexed sea. The day 
 
 17
 
 1 8 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 was brilliantly clear; there was not a cloud in the 
 sky. No mist dimmed the translucent purity of the 
 warm air. Nothing broke the far horizon. The 
 island, fair and beautiful, was set alone in a mighty 
 ocean. In so far as she could tell, she and the man 
 were alone upon it. The thought oppressed her. 
 She strove to throw it off. The silence of the man 
 oppressed her as well. She turned to him at last 
 and cried out, the words wrung from her by the 
 horror of the situation : 
 
 " Man, man, whence came you? How are you 
 called? What language do you speak? Why arc 
 you here? " 
 
 The sound of her own voice gave her courage. 
 Waiting for no answer, and indeed she realized that 
 none could come, she stepped to the brow of the 
 hill where the trees happened not to be and, raising 
 her voice, called and called and called. There were 
 answering echoes from the jagged crag behind her, 
 but when these died away, there was silence, un 
 broken save by the queer babbling, chuckling noises 
 of the man. 
 
 She looked at him with a sudden sinking of the 
 heart. Had this godlike creature roaming the 
 woods, this Faun of the island, been denied a brain, 
 articulate speech? Was she doomed to spend the 
 rest of her life alone in this Paradise of the Pacific 
 with a harmless madman forever by her side? What 
 a situation was that in which she found herself?
 
 The Island 19 
 
 She was a highly specialized product of the great 
 est of universities. In science and in philosophy 
 she was a master and a doctor. She should have had 
 resources within herself which would enable her to 
 be independent of the outside world, a world in 
 which her experience, self-bought, had been bitter, 
 in which the last few weeks had been one long dis 
 illusionment. And yet she was now overwhelmed 
 with a craving for companionship, for articulate 
 speech, as if she had never looked into a book or 
 given a thought to the deep things of life. If this 
 man beside her would only do something, say some 
 thing, be something rather than a silent satellite for 
 ever staring in wonder. If she could only solve 
 the mystery of his presence, answer the interroga 
 tion that his very existence there alone presented. 
 
 Her future, her present, indeed, should have en 
 grossed her mind. What she was to do, how she 
 was to live, the terrible problems in which his 
 presence on the island involved her, should have 
 been the objects of her attention; they should have 
 afforded food for thought to the keenest of women. 
 She simply forgot them in her puzzled wonder at 
 him. It would have been much simpler from one 
 point of view if she had found the island uninhab 
 ited, and yet since the man was human and alive, in 
 spite of her judgment, her heart was glad that he 
 was there. 
 
 She motioned to him to sit down and then she sat
 
 2O The Island of Regeneration 
 
 in front of him and studied him. He looked as 
 little like a fool as like a knave. She could indeed 
 detect no evidences of any intellectual ability, but 
 she thought, as she studied him keenly, that he pos 
 sessed unlimited intellectual possibilities. There was 
 a mind back of those bright blue eyes, that broad, 
 noble brow, but it seemed to her a mind entirely 
 undeveloped, a mind utterly latent. Here was a 
 soul, she thought, half in fancy, half in earnest, that 
 was virgin to the world. Howsoever wise, howso 
 ever deeply learned she might be, she was face to 
 face with this primeval norm. 
 
 Could she teach this man anything? He seemed 
 tractable, reverential, deferential now. Knowledge 
 was power. Would it be power with him? Could 
 she open those sealed doors of his mind, what floods 
 would outpour therefrom, of power, of passion? 
 Would she be swept away? It mattered not. She 
 must try. The impulse seized her to begin now. 
 Fixing her dark eyes upon him, she pointed directly 
 at him with her finger. 
 
 " Man," she said clearly and emphatically. 
 
 He was always looking at her. He had scarcely 
 taken his eyes from her since she had seen him in 
 the tall grass by the shore, but at her gesture and 
 word his eyes brightened. There was that little 
 wrinkling of the brow again which she had noticed, 
 outward and visible sign of an inward attempt at 
 comprehension.
 
 The Island 21 
 
 " Man!" she said passionately. " Man," she re 
 peated over and over again. 
 
 And then the unexpected happened. After in 
 numerable guttural attempts, her unwitting pupil 
 managed to articulate something that bore a distinct 
 resemblance to the clearly cut monosyllable. 
 
 "Man!" he said at last. 
 
 It was a tremendous step in evolution, almost too 
 great for any untutored human brain, for at once 
 the man before her received a name, and the idea of 
 name as well. In that instant, on that heaven kiss 
 ing hill, he was differentiated from all the rest of 
 creation forever. His consciousness, hitherto vague, 
 floating, incoherent, indefinite, was localized, given 
 a habitation and a name. He knew himself in some 
 way to be. 
 
 "Man ! " he cried, growing more and more con 
 fident with every repetition and more and more ac 
 curate in catching the very intonation with which she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Man ! " he cried, laying his hand upon his breast. 
 " Man." 
 
 He leaped to his feet and stretched out his arms. 
 The doors were open a little space. Ideas were be 
 ginning to edge their way through the crack. 
 
 "Man! Man! Man !" he said again and again, 
 looking eagerly at her. 
 
 She rose in turn and patted him on the shoulder 
 encouragingly as she might a dog. And again the
 
 22 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 touch, the third touch that she had given him, af 
 fected him strangely, so strangely that for a moment 
 she felt the soul within her shrink, but realizing at 
 once that her domination over him was spiritual and 
 immaterial, and that the slightest evidence of timid 
 ity would be translated into universal language which 
 even the lowest creation understands, and that her 
 dominion would go on the instant, she mastered her 
 self and so mastered him. Although she was but a 
 woman whom he might have broken in his hands, 
 she dominated him as the conscious soul ever dom 
 inates the unconscious soul. 
 
 She essayed no more lessons, but turned and re 
 traced her way to the shore where she had landed, 
 which, because she had landed there, she called 
 home. On the way, she attempted an experiment. 
 She plucked from a low bush a bright-colored fruit 
 of whose quality and characteristics she was ignorant 
 and slowly made as if to convey it to her lips. 
 
 "Man!" cried the voice behind her, uttering its 
 only word. 
 
 She turned to find her companion looking fixedly 
 at her and proffering other fruit which he had 
 quickly gathered. She handed him that she had 
 plucked in exchange. He shook his head, not in 
 negation but rather in bewilderment, and threw it 
 from him, and then she understood in some way that 
 the fruit was not good for food. How he had di 
 vined it, she could not tell. Some compensating in-
 
 The Island 23 
 
 stinct, sharpened by use into a protecting quality, 
 had taught him. She had no such instinct. She 
 had learned to depend upon reason and observation, 
 and these failed her in the presence of this unknown. 
 She was humbled a little in this thought. 
 
 She craved meat and salt, having been trained 
 to these things, the artificial diet and stimulant to 
 which she had become accustomed, and her crav 
 ing was the more insistent because she had been with 
 out them all that time in the boat. And yet when, 
 she had eaten the fruit that nature had provided 
 in that tropic island, her craving was abated and she 
 was satisfied. She felt that she could soon grow ac 
 customed to such a diet if it were necessary. So 
 musing she passed on under the trees and sat down, 
 on the sand again. 
 
 The next thing she remembered, she was unclos 
 ing her eyes as she had done early in the morning, 
 and the man was still watching by her side. She 
 had been so utterly tired out by her strange adven 
 ture, by her long wrestling with thirst and starvation 
 in the open boat, that before she knew it, weariness 
 overcame her and she slept. He had watched by 
 her side without molesting her. 
 
 It was late in the evening now. The problems of 
 the night had to be faced. This time the man took 
 the initiative. He walked along the shore a little 
 way and then looked back at her; then came back 
 to her, then left her, and repeated the process once
 
 24 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 or twice as a dog might have done who was desir 
 ous of bringing his master to some appointed place. 
 Understanding, she rose and followed him. He led 
 her along the sands, now shadowed by the tall palms, 
 until they came to the rivulet, where she stopped and 
 drank once more. They passed it, he plunging bod 
 ily through its shallows; she leaping from rock to 
 rock until she reached the other bank. He went 
 swiftly around the face of the cliff. As she passed 
 the point she saw that it curved suddenly inward 
 away from the shores into a sort of amphitheater, 
 and fair in the center of the face she perceived an 
 opening. He halted opposite and entered fear 
 lessly, she following. 
 
 The cave was roomy and spacious, at least it 
 seemed so in the fading light. In the morning when 
 the sun shone through the opening, it would be 
 flooded with daylight, but now, when the sun was 
 sinking behind the hill, it was quite dark. It was 
 dry and clean and apparently empty. The man stood 
 looking at her smiling, at least there was a sugges 
 tion of a smile upon his lips. He was nodding his 
 head. She understood that he lived there. The dog 
 had come back to his kennel and had taken this 
 chance acquaintance there, too. 
 
 It would be a good place to pass the night. The 
 night had to be passed somewhere. How, was the 
 problem. She had little fear of any savage animals 
 on the island. There had been no evidences of them
 
 The Island 2$ 
 
 observed in her progress; the man himself was testi 
 mony to immunity from attack from that source. 
 Had it not been for him, she could have lain down in 
 that cave with quiet confidence and slept without ap 
 prehension of molestation, but he complicated the 
 issue. 
 
 Twice he had watched by her asleep, but that was 
 in the broad daylight. When darkness came, what 
 then? Her heart was filled with terror. She was 
 suddenly afraid of the dark, a childish fear at which 
 her soul would have mocked in other days and under 
 other conditions. But now she was a prey to vivid 
 apprehension, and the night was coming on with the 
 swiftness of the tropics. She was glad that she 
 had slept through the long afternoon. She would 
 endeavor to keep awake during the night. She must 
 turn the dog out of his kennel and occupy that her 
 self. How was she to enforce her will under the 
 circumstances ? She could only try. 
 
 "Man!" she said, pointing to the door, "go!" 
 The words conveyed nothing, but the gesture 
 meant much. Even to that man association with his 
 kind for one day had effected a revolution in him. 
 He hung undecided, however, before her, while she 
 repeated again and again her injunction. Finally 
 she took him by the shoulder, risking the peculiar 
 emotions that contact seemed to bring to him, and 
 thrust him gently through the entrance outside. Then 
 she went back farther into the cave and waited with
 
 26 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 a beating heart. She could see him silhouetted 
 against the twilight standing where she had left 
 him. He came toward the door at last and stood 
 in the entrance. 
 
 " No, no ! " she cried fiercely, praying that the 
 note of terror might be lost in the imperative tones 
 of her voice. "Man, go!" 
 
 She stood waiting, and he likewise. Mustering 
 her courage at last, she went over to him and boldly 
 thrust him out. Again and again the little drama 
 was played until by and by it became impressed upon 
 the mind of the man that he was to stay out and she 
 was to stay in. He came no more to the entrance. He 
 stood outside, aloof, looking in, although in the 
 growing darkness he could not see her. 
 
 It was the second thing he had learned. The first 
 ray of light in his dawning consciousness had illu 
 minated the ego, the personal, the concrete. He 
 was learning now the significance of a verb, and an 
 abstract idea was being bred in him and some con 
 cept of constraint was entering his being. The first 
 of those long checks that circumstances impose upon 
 freedom in order that civilization may begin to be, 
 was meeting him face to face. He had slept in that 
 cave, she imagined, for years, and suddenly he was 
 thrust out. There was no hardship in that, except 
 the hardship in the necessity for obedience, if hard 
 ship that might be. The night was balmy and pleas 
 ant; no shelter was needed. It was the fact that he
 
 The Island 27 
 
 had to go; that he was subject to another v/ill and 
 purpose; that something higher than himself was 
 overruling him which might be hard. It would 
 have been hard for the woman. She thought, how 
 ever, that the limited comprehension of the maii 
 might not enable him to realize it. 
 
 He stood a long time on the sand while she 
 watched him. Had she conquered? Had he learned 
 his lesson? Had she laid foundations upon which 
 consciousness of life and its relations might be 
 builded? Would she be free from the terror of 
 molestation, which in spite of herself sought expres 
 sion in her voice and manner? Would she be per 
 mitted to pass the night undisturbed? Was her 
 power over him sufficiently definite to be established 
 and to be of value? Suppose she had not succeeded 
 in mastering him, in dominating him? She shud 
 dered at the probabilities involved. Of all the beasts 
 of the field, the most terrible when he is a beast is 
 man. 
 
 She was not a weak woman. She was above the 
 middle height, athletic, splendidly developed, ac 
 customed to the exercise of the gymnasium and the 
 field, but her strength was no match for his. One 
 ray of safety appeared in the fact that she believed 
 him ignorant alike of the extent of his power or of 
 the possibilities of the situation. She wondered what 
 strange thoughts were going on in that latent brain 
 over which, by the use of moral force and courage,
 
 28 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 she was striving to establish domination. She re 
 joiced to find that even in the midst of her anxieties 
 she could think so clearly about the situation. 
 
 Did he know his lesson, she wondered. She could 
 only hope. If she only had a weapon, she thought, 
 the weakness of sex might be equalized. There was 
 nothing. Yes, her thought reverted to the womanly 
 pair of scissors. With trembling hand she drew 
 them forth and clenched the little tool of steel 
 tightly. It was a poor dependence, but the best she 
 had. And then she drew quietly back into the re 
 cesses of the cave and sat down, leaning against the 
 wall, her eyes bright with dread, anticipation, 
 and curiosity. She watched and waited, resolved, 
 if necessary, to remain awake the long night 
 through. 
 
 Outside the man had stood motionless a long time 
 after the final repulse. The dusk had not yet melted 
 into dark out there and he was easily visible against 
 the sky framed by the opening as a dim picture. 
 She was hardly aware of the intensity with which 
 she watched him, and she was greatly surprised 
 when she saw him at last kneel down upon the sands. 
 She saw that the palms of his hands were pressed to 
 gether in front of him; that his head was bowed; 
 that his attitude was that of prayer! He was say 
 ing something. She could hear him without diffi 
 culty. She could distinguish no words in the rude 
 succession of sounds that seemed to come from his
 
 The Island 29 
 
 lips, but her acute and quickened perception seemed 
 to recognize a nearer resemblance to articulate speech 
 than anything she had yet heard from him. 
 
 What was he doing? In a flash the woman real 
 ized that the man was praying. The realization 
 smote her like a blow, for this woman had long 
 since put away prayer. In her philosophy of life 
 there was no place for God; in her scheme of af 
 fairs the divine was unimminent. And yet alone 
 on that island, in that darkness, despite her attempt 
 to mock away the consciousness, she was relieved at 
 that sight. 
 
 The little ritual on the sand ended with the one 
 word her pupil knew. 
 
 " Man ! " he said, striking his breast again and 
 staring upward toward the heavens. " Man ! " he 
 cried, as if in his new consciousness he would fain 
 introduce himself to his Maker, the woman thought. 
 His Maker! Her lips writhed into a bitter smile 
 that was half a sneer. 
 
 What would he do next? He rose to his feet 
 and peered toward the door. She grasped the scis 
 sors tighter and held her breath. But he had learned 
 his lesson. With indescribable relief she saw him 
 turn aside and cast himself down upon the sand, 
 where he lay motionless before her. If she had had 
 any faith, she would have breathed "Thank God." 
 As it was, she was very glad. 
 
 She watched him a long time, speculating on the
 
 30 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 questions she had asked him on the hill in the morn 
 ing; who he was; what he was; whence he came; 
 where he had learned that babble of prayer ; why he 
 was devoid of speech; what was the God to whom 
 he prayed? She would study those things. The 
 problems fascinated her. The desolation and loneli 
 ness of the island might have crushed her. Relieved 
 from her immediate apprehensions, the man de 
 lighted her. She would investigate him, analyze 
 him, synthesize him, teach him. She would mother 
 him as a woman a child. No such opportunity as 
 was hers had ever presented itself to a human being. 
 Free, as she imagined herself, from inherited prej 
 udices, devoid of old superstitions, crammed with new 
 learning, illuminated with new light, abhorrent of 
 narrow things, she fancied herself well fitted for 
 that strangely maternal and preceptive role in which 
 chance had placed her. She would play upon that 
 mind, virgin to her touch, if she might use a woman s 
 word, until it ran in harmony with her own. Alone 
 upon that island, the rest of the world away, she 
 would find occupation, interest, inspiration, in that 
 nascent man. 
 
 He lay so still and so quiet that presently she 
 arose and tiptoed softly to the entrance, where un 
 seen she could look down upon him. The moon 
 rose back of the hill. Although he was in the 
 shadow, there was still refraction sufficient to enable 
 her to see his face. He was asleep. The quiet,
 
 The Island 3* 
 
 dreamless, unvexed sleep of a healthy animal, she 
 thought. Their positions were reversed. He had 
 watched her before when she was off guard and 
 asleep, with what dim-dumb, inchoate effort it might 
 be to comprehend, her. Now it was her turn. He 
 took no disfavor in her mind after her inspection. 
 He was a bold, splendid piece of ... what? 
 Clay. She would put a soul in him, her soul. Her 
 soul was the only thing she knew. She forgot, or 
 if she remembered it, disdained the ancient concept 
 that before the dust of the earth became alive, it 
 had to be impermeated with the breath not merely 
 of man or woman, but of God. 
 
 She came back at last and sought her corner, dis 
 posed her limbs to rest and kept through silent 
 hours her lonely vigil. So long as he slept she was 
 safe. When he awakened, what then? So long as 
 his mind slept, his soul slept, his consciousness slept, 
 she was safe, but when they, too, awakened, when 
 whatsoever light there might be that dawns in per 
 sonality dispelled the night of idle dreams in which 
 he lived, what would happen then? 
 
 Instinctively she shrank from the thought of the 
 future. She was as one who had a potent talisman 
 in her hand and feared to put it to the touch. So 
 the fisherman in the Arabian tale, if he had known 
 the contents of the corked bottle thrown up from the 
 sea, might have hesitated ere he drew the stopper 
 and released the prisoned spirit. She must watch,
 
 32 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 she must wait, she must be on her guard. She for 
 got that when she had called him " Man " and laid 
 her hand upon his shoulder that she had begun an 
 evolution which no human power could stop. 
 
 Never had the hours seemed so long and so 
 strange to her. Nothing happened. Even the ca 
 pacity to think gives out in the strongest mind, the 
 acutest brain, temporarily or otherwise. She was 
 very tired; the silence was oppressive; the rusty 
 scissors fell from her hand and at last she slipped 
 down upon the sand and drifted away into that 
 slumber, that suspension of consciousness, in which 
 for the moment she was even as the man. 
 
 The upper edge of the sun was just springing 
 from the sea when its level rays woke her. She 
 unclosed her eyes to find the man standing in the 
 opening of the cave.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE WORD OF THE BOOK 
 
 THIS awakening was not as had been that of yes 
 terday. She prided herself on being in full posses 
 sion of her faculties at once, and she arose instantly 
 and stepped out upon the sand. The man gave way 
 to her respectfully as she passed through the en 
 trance. The mind is brightest in the early morning 
 after sleep. She would give him another concept 
 before the uses of the day impaired his receptivity. 
 She had differentiated him from the rest of creation 
 when she taught him that he was a man. She would 
 show him now that his was a divided empire by de 
 claring herself a sharer in it. She laid her hand 
 upon her own breast and said clearly: 
 
 " Woman ! " giving the first syllable the long " o " 
 and definitely accenting the second. She pointed to 
 him and repeated " Man " ; to herself and repeated 
 "Woman." Patiently over and over again she said 
 the word until by and by he could say it, too. 
 
 The baby begins his language with monosyllabic 
 sounds which mean little, and yet which have been 
 identified with the mother. It was fitting that this 
 man, who was as a child and yet as a man, should 
 
 33
 
 34 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 begin with something deeper than infantile babble. 
 Man and Woman! she drove these two ideas 
 into his consciousness before she ceased her task. 
 If his idea of man was at first infinite, she gave him 
 the concept of limitations immediately following. 
 
 He was avid for instruction. Once he had learned 
 the words, he babbled them " man, woman, man, 
 woman," until the iteration was almost maddening. 
 
 While she washed her face and hands at the 
 stream, he plunged into a brimming pool fed by the 
 brook ere it descended to the sea. She noticed that 
 he could swim like a fish itself, naturally, instinct 
 ively, in an untrained way, of course, without the 
 fancy strokes in which she had been taught, but 
 brilliantly and well nevertheless. She would have 
 given the world for a dip, but it was not to be, not 
 yet, that is. 
 
 Then they breakfasted, and she tried to teach him 
 "No" and "Yes" and the meaning thereof. She 
 intended to make a circuit of the island later, but 
 there was no hurry. She began to realize that time 
 was nothing to her or to him, and so she idled under 
 the trees, setting him tasks, as the picking of fruit, 
 and then stopping him with " No " ; then encourag 
 ing him with " Yes," until he had some idea of those 
 w r ords also. It was a relief to her to get them firmly 
 fixed in his mind, for they provided him with al 
 ternatives to the man and woman words on which 
 he harped.
 
 The Island 35 
 
 After a while they started around the island. It 
 was perhaps six or eight miles in circumference. 
 There was a sand beach everywhere, except in one 
 place where the rocks came sheer down to the shore. 
 From what she could tell by an inspection of the 
 surface there was an under-water entrance to some 
 cave in the rocks which some day might be worth 
 exploring. They could not follow the shore at the 
 foot of these cliffs, but managed to scramble over 
 them, each for himself, although there were places 
 where the man s strong arm and wonderful agility 
 he climbed like a chamois, she noticed would 
 have helped her. It was her policy, however, to be 
 self-reliant, to depend upon him for nothing. To be 
 independent was her mental habit, too. She con 
 fessed to no inferiority when compared with the other 
 sex, save that physical weakness which was heredi 
 tary, for which she was in no way responsible, and 
 which she assiduously strove to minimize by every 
 means or expedient at her command. 
 
 On the other side of the island from the cave, 
 which was already denominated home in her mind, 
 she came across the remains of a ship s boat deep 
 bedded in the sand. The boat had been perhaps 
 wrecked and broken on the barrier reef, or possibly 
 it had sailed through the entrance near at hand 
 the only opening in the encircling guard of splint 
 ered rock which she had seen and had been hurled 
 upon the beach where it had lain through years
 
 36 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 until buried in the shifting sand. Only the gunwales 
 of the boat and the stem and the stern were exposed. 
 She had no idea as to what its condition was, but she 
 promised that so soon as she could she would make 
 shift at something for a shovel and dig it out. She 
 gazed at it for a long time, wondering if it were an 
 explanation of the presence of the solitary of the 
 island, but nothing was to be gained by wonderment 
 and speculation. 
 
 A little stream she noticed trickled from under a 
 thick covert across the sand toward the sea. She 
 turned and idly walked away from the beach, fol 
 lowing the stream. The man, who had stood with 
 her watching the boat, did not for a moment notice 
 her, but so soon as he discovered her direction, he ran 
 after her and, without offering to touch her, barred 
 the way with extended arms. 
 
 " No, no ! " he cried, his first real spontaneous use 
 of the word. 
 
 She stopped, reflected, waved the man aside, and 
 went on. There was something in the coppice that 
 he feared. She had not known that he possessed 
 the faculty. Her curiosity was too strong to be 
 denied. She must see what it was. She quickened 
 her pace as if to shake him off, but he easily kept 
 by her side, plaintively ejaculating his monosyllabic 
 negative. It was evidence that he knew the meaning 
 of the word she was glad to see. 
 
 When she reached the undergrowth of the cop-
 
 The Island 37 
 
 pice, she hesitated in apprehension of she knew not 
 what, but summoning her courage, parted the reeds 
 and peered in them. She shrank back with a sudden 
 cry of horror, for at her feet, the vegetation spring 
 ing through in every direction, lay a skeleton, a hu 
 man skeleton. It lay athwart her path, and at the 
 feet was a smaller skeleton which she judged to 
 be that of a dog. With instinctive repugnance she 
 released the rushes and turned hastily away. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the man by her side, with an ex 
 pression of unusual relief on his face which she 
 could scarcely fail to notice. 
 
 She knew that she could not thus evade her duties 
 or shrink from her problems. She had marked the 
 gleam of metal amid the bones. She knew that she 
 would have to come back and examine those last 
 remainders of human presence, other than their own, 
 upon the island, but she could not do it just then. 
 
 She was of the stuff that when the danger is real 
 ized approaches it deliberately, rather than of the 
 rash and headlong courage which proceeds upon an 
 undertaking without thought of consequence. And 
 yet, in spite of the possibilities of power in the 
 knowledge she bestowed, she was deliberately pro 
 ceeding to enlighten this man in every way. If her 
 death or worse were at the end of it, she could no 
 more have helped it than she could have stayed the 
 rising of the sun, she thought, although of course she 
 counted upon maintaining her control by spirit over
 
 38 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the animal before her. She had not learned the 
 lesson, apparently, that animal apprehension and 
 spiritual development sometimes grow side by side, 
 and that unless the superiority of the one is early 
 and definitely established, the superiority of the 
 other will inevitably come about. 
 
 There was nothing else that she discovered on her 
 tour about her prison until she returned to the cave. 
 It was afternoon by this time, and she determined to 
 employ some of her hours in a more careful in 
 spection of it. Realizing that the lesson of the 
 night before, if reinforced and maintained, would 
 stand her in good stead, she made the man remain 
 outside while she went within. Her hope was to 
 establish in his mind a custom of avoidance of that 
 recess which should develop into a fixed habit, else 
 she could not be free. She could always secure a 
 few moments respite from his presence, at least she 
 had done so heretofore, but she did not dare to try 
 how he would sustain longer absences; hence the 
 necessity for establishing herself in the cave as a 
 harbor of refuge, a sanctuary. 
 
 At first glance there was nothing within the lit 
 tle apartment, washed out ages ago from the hard 
 stone by what action of water she could well imagine, 
 but as she scrutinized it closely, she noticed in a 
 recess a part where the rock wall cropped out in 
 a sort of low shelf. On the shelf wonder of 
 wonders ! lay a book ! Next to humanity, a book,
 
 The Island 39 
 
 she thought, would be the most precious sharer of 
 her solitude. 
 
 It was a small, leather-bound volume. Dust in 
 the form of tiny particles of sand lay thick upon it. 
 The cave was sheltered from the prevailing winds, 
 else it might have been buried, but under the cir 
 cumstances, it might have lain there for ages and in 
 that dry, pure air have suffered no deterioration or 
 decay. 
 
 Crusoe was petrified when he saw the footprint in 
 the sand. The woman was not less startled or less 
 amazed when she saw the book on the rock. With 
 a little cry of delight she stepped toward it, bent 
 down, lifted it up, handling it carefully in spite of 
 nervous exultation, shook the dust from it, and 
 opened it. She instantly let it fall from her hands 
 with a look of disappointment and disgust. One 
 glance was enough. The book was the Bible. She 
 had no interest in the Bible, a collection of ancient 
 genealogies and time-worn fables, myths for the 
 credulous and impossible legends, mixed up with 
 poetry whose inspiration was trivial, and history 
 whose details were false. For this woman, who 
 had forgotten how to pray and who had abolished 
 God, had little use for the Book of Books. Rather 
 any other printed page, she had thought bitterly, 
 than that one. 
 
 She had acted upon impulse, not in her disdain of 
 the Bible and that for which it stood that was
 
 40 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 grounded upon reason and philosophy, she fondly 
 believed but in her action in casting it from her. 
 It had no more than rolled upon the sand at her 
 feet when, with swift reconsideration, she stooped 
 and lifted it again. It had occurred to her that 
 there might be writing therein and that the writing 
 might give her a clew to the mystery of the man. 
 She knew that births and deaths were frequently 
 entered upon the blank leaves interposed between 
 the Old and New Testaments. Unfamiliar though 
 she was with the contents of the book, she easily 
 found the place and eagerly looked at the leaves. 
 Alas, they were blank. She turned to the fly leaves 
 at the beginning of the book. There was a name 
 written there and in a woman s hand. 
 John Revell Charnock," she read. 
 
 Below was a date twenty-five years before the 
 moment of her landing. 
 
 John Revell Charnock! It was a strange name, 
 English in part, with a suggestion of France in the 
 middle name. It meant nothing to her. Was this 
 John Revell Charnock who stood outside looking at 
 her? If so, who was John Revell Charnock? The 
 problem was not greatly elucidated. There was no 
 evidence that the book belonged to the man or the 
 man to the book, or even that the one appertained 
 remotely to the other. There was a certain likeli 
 hood, however, that they had come to the island 
 together.
 
 The Island 41 
 
 She had been sure that the man was a white man. 
 She had thought that he looked like an American, 
 or an Englishman, an Anglo-Saxon, and the longer 
 she looked at him with the Bible in her hand, the 
 more sure she became. 
 
 She had been disappointed that the book had 
 turned out to be the Bible, but at least it would serve 
 one useful purpose. By it, without the laborious 
 effort involved in making letters upon the sand, she 
 might teach the man before her to read. She wished 
 she had had a worthier volume from her point of 
 view through which to introduce him to the world s 
 literature, but she would do the best she could with 
 that. It was pitiful, as she saw it, that with a nas 
 cent soul to work with, she should be compelled to 
 enlighten it through the medium of time-worn su 
 perstition. 
 
 Musing thus, she opened the book again and idly 
 glanced at it. One phrase from the printed page 
 caught her eye, and she read these significant words. 
 " The Fool hath s*id in his heart there is no God." 
 It was a Psalm of David s she recognized from the 
 heading, a poet s dream, therefore. Her idea of 
 a fool was one who made such confession. With a 
 gesture of contempt she closed the volume, not 
 throwing it away whatever it was, it was a printed 
 book and too precious to risk damage which would 
 be irreparable through mistreatment and looked 
 further in the cave.
 
 42 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Below the shelf, not quite buried in the sand, there 
 was a small metal box. She knelt down, scraped the 
 sand away and presently uncovered it. It appeared 
 to be of silver. It was of such a size that she could 
 clasp it easily in her hand. She opened it not with 
 out some difficulty, and found within it nothing! 
 Well, not exactly nothing, but certainly that for 
 which she could see little value. There were several 
 hard pieces of stone of a reddish color, chipped and 
 shaped in curious fashion, and a little bar of metal, 
 nothing else. She turned the box over and examined 
 it on all sides. There were initials upon it, a mono 
 gram. She rubbed it clean with her hands and stud 
 ied it carefully " J. R. C." The book and the box 
 had belonged to the same person, John Revell Char- 
 nock. 
 
 She laid the box aside and searched the cave fur 
 ther. There was absolutely nothing else to be seen. 
 Disappointed vaguely, although she had expected 
 nothing and had found more indeed than she real 
 ized if she had thought about it, she laid the book 
 and box down upon the ledge and went out again. 
 She walked along the sands until she came to the 
 place where she had landed the day before. The 
 tide was low. She could see the wreck of her boat, 
 partly on the barrier reef and partly in the water. 
 It would have been no trick for her to swim to it in 
 the stillness, yet she hesitated to attempt it. Cer 
 tainly weighted down by all her clothing, it was a
 
 The Island 43 
 
 matter of difficulty and inconvenience. If it were 
 not for this man by her side ! She tried to think 
 of some way to restrain him, keep him away, but 
 nothing occurred to her. Invention was paralyzed 
 by the situation in which she found herself. 
 
 Desperately bidding him stay where he was, she 
 went back to the cave. She was face to face with a 
 crisis which had to be met. Indeed, the question of 
 clothes was becoming a very serious one with her, 
 and she knew she should have to decide upon some 
 course of action immediately. 
 
 For the present, she took off her garments, hoping 
 and praying in a shiver of dread and anxiety that he 
 would remain where she had left him, which indeed 
 proved the fact. She laid aside all that she had 
 worn except the blouse and skirt, including her sadly 
 worn shoes and stockings. Thus lightly clad she 
 came out on the sand again. He did not notice any 
 change in her condition. As a matter of fact, she 
 gave him no time, for she flashed across the sand 
 at full speed and plunged boldly into the smiling 
 water of the lagoon. He followed her instantly 
 and swam by her side with scarcely any exertion 
 whatever. 
 
 It was not long before she reached the barrier 
 reef. It stood up a foot or two above the water 
 now, the tide being low, and she clambered upon 
 it. The sharp rocks cut her naked and tender feet, 
 unused to such exertions and unfitted for such de-
 
 44 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 mands, but she persevered. The boat had been 
 beaten to pieces. It had been forced over the reef 
 by the hurl of the sea. The stern had been wedged 
 in between some projecting rocks. The rest of it had 
 been torn away and had fallen into the lagoon. 
 There was no wind, the sea was unruffled. She could 
 see as if through a glass the wrecked remains of 
 the boat. There was nothing in it except the bat 
 tered motor, useless for days before she landed since 
 her supply of gasoline had been exhausted. Every- 
 thing else had been washed out of it and carried into 
 the deeper recesses of the lagoon, where they were 
 inaccessible to the human vision. 
 
 Stop ! Under what remained of a piece of thwart, 
 she caught a little gleam of metal. Calculating the 
 distance nicely, she plunged in and dove. Keeping 
 her eyes open, she easily found the piece of metal, 
 dislodged it from the place where it had fallen and 
 came to the surface with it. It was a sailor s sheath 
 knife with a bit of lanyard fastened to it. She had 
 had a fancy to wear it in her sailor s blouse and she 
 had missed it since she had come ashore. 
 
 But there was nothing else in the boat, not a thing; 
 nothing on the barrier reef. She tried to pull the 
 stern away where it had been wedged, but found 
 that impossible. She tugged at it valiantly, but could 
 not move it. In despair she turned to the man who 
 had watched silently as usual and pointed. He 
 seemed to understand, for he came and with great
 
 The Island 45 
 
 effort lifted the torn part of the boat from the rocks 
 and laid it down at her feet. She threw it into the 
 water, where of course as it was wood, it floated 
 easily. Then with a nod to him, she plunged in and 
 together they guided it to the shore, he taking his 
 cue from her action. 
 
 She had a fancy to test his strength, and she 
 managed to convey to him by signs, mainly by try 
 ing herself in vain to pull it apart, what she wished 
 him to do. The impossible to her was child s play 
 to him, and in a moment the several pieces of the 
 boat which made up the stern were scattered on the 
 beach. There was one straight piece which went 
 across the stern of the boat and made a little box 
 for the coxswain to sit in, which would do for a 
 shovel. It was too wide, but she broke it against 
 a big stone and was possessed of what she wanted. 
 The ends were rough and serrated and unfit for her 
 hands, but these she smoothed by the aid of her 
 knife. She sharpened the other end and soon had a 
 rude semblance of a shovel. She intended to use 
 that on the boat on the sand the next day. 
 
 Finished with this, she looked at the man and 
 sighed in despair. Could she ever get rid of him. 
 Instantly there flashed into her mind that which 
 she had before overlooked as of no moment. A 
 long heavy boat rope, the boat s painter, she had 
 noticed when she dove, lay floating by the side of 
 the boat from which it had not been severed. An
 
 46 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 idea came to her. Dropping the shovel and fol 
 lowed by her satellite, she plunged in once more and 
 again swam to the boat. Wasting no time, she 
 dove as before, found the rope and, having pre 
 viously opened her knife, cut it quickly and came to 
 the surface gasping. 
 
 There were perhaps fifteen or twenty feet of line. 
 It was a stout piece of rope, of unusual quality, as 
 had been everything on board the yacht. The very 
 best of stuff had gone into it and she did not be 
 lieve any man on earth could break it. She had 
 amused herself on the cruise by learning the rudi 
 ments of seamanship, and she could tie knots like 
 any sailor. This little accomplishment was to stand 
 her in good stead. She wrapped the rope around 
 her neck, plunged in the lagoon for the third time 
 and swam once more to the shore. 
 
 She led the way up the sands to the palm grove. 
 Then she tied the rope around the man s neck, not 
 in a slip noose, of course, but in a hard circle, and 
 quickly made a running bowline around the nearest 
 tree. He had not made the slightest resistance. 
 He had no idea evidently of what she was doing 
 or the purport of her motions. Then she turned 
 and went away from him quickly. He started for 
 her at once and was nearly jerked from his feet by 
 the tautening of the rope. It was a new situation 
 for him, yet his hands instinctively went to his 
 throat and he strove to tear away the noose, put-
 
 The Island 47 
 
 ting forth such a prodigious amount of strength that 
 she stood in horror lest he should part the lashing. 
 But it was made of stout stuff and he had no 
 purchase; although he pulled until the sweat stood 
 out on his forehead from the violence of his ef 
 forts, they were of no avail. She had not dared to 
 interfere or to say a word, but when she saw his 
 efforts slacken, she pointed to the sands to indicate 
 to him that he was to sit down, and then she went 
 away conscious that while the rope held she was 
 free. She was conscious of another thing, too, and 
 that was that he was learning a sad and bitter lesson 
 of physical restraint, to which he had evidently never 
 before been subject. 
 
 The look in his eyes and she had learned to 
 estimate with a reasonable degree of accuracy what 
 was going on behind his brows was one of in 
 tense and utter bewilderment. Whether to it would 
 succeed the natural anger consequent upon restraint 
 the cause for which is unrealized, and sometimes 
 when it is realized as well, she could not tell. At 
 any rate, she was free. She did not believe that 
 he could by an possibility release himself. His hands 
 were free, but she knew that he could have no ex 
 perience in the untying of knots and he could bring 
 nothing to aid him except brute strength, which had 
 already proved inefficacious. 
 
 She had rejoiced in his companionship, of course. 
 It had given her something to do, her mind some-
 
 48 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 thing to work upon, and would do more in the fu 
 ture, but she never enjoyed a moment s freedom 
 more. She ran to the little amphitheater formed by 
 the cliffs where the cave was and, throwing aside 
 her blouse and skirt, she luxuriated in a bath in 
 the fresh, cool, delightful waters of the pool at 
 the base of the fall. There was a certain amount 
 of apprehension, for, of course, he might break his 
 tether at any time, but she was sufficiently confident 
 not to let this take away the pleasure she felt in the 
 bath of fresh water after the long experience with 
 the salt seas. If she had had a cake of soap, she 
 would have been completely happy. 
 
 She had much to do and she could not linger. 
 For one thing, she had to face the problem of 
 clothes. She had absolutely nothing when she landed 
 except what she wore. Besides the usual underwears, 
 these consisted of her blue serge blouse and skirt 
 a short skirt at that and a silk petticoat. She 
 left the blouse and skirt outside on the rocks where 
 they would soon dry in the sun. They had been 
 wetted so often that there was no possibility of their 
 shrinking further. Then she took stock of the rest. 
 With needles and thread, of which she possessed 
 some store in the housewife which had been saved 
 from the bag, she thought she could make shift to 
 manufacture three or four garments, open at the 
 neck, without sleeves, and with skirts that came to 
 the knee, garments just sufficient for modesty. There
 
 The Island 49 
 
 was no other need for clothes, so far as that went, 
 in that balmy island. 
 
 Naturally she shrank from this, but unless she 
 resorted to this expedient, her clothes would wear 
 out all at once. Indeed they were in none too good 
 a condition as it was, and when they were worn out 
 she would have nothing. She would not have hesi 
 tated a moment had it not been for the man, but 
 man or not, the decision in her mind was one to 
 which she must come. 
 
 Unlike most overeducated women, she was still 
 expert with her needle, and as her garments were to 
 be of the simplest, she had not much difficulty in 
 making over her silk skirt in the way she fancied. 
 Belted in at the waist, it would do. She would use 
 the rope that bound the man for that purpose, keep 
 ing it always about her. She had, of course, but one 
 pair of stockings and one pair of light canvas boat 
 ing shoes which were almost cut to pieces. She 
 would have to go barefoot. 
 
 Putting her blue serge dress and the rest of her 
 clothing carefully away, including her shoes and 
 stockings, she stepped out on the sands, bare armed, 
 bare footed, a gleaming figure like to an Olympian 
 goddess. She was a woman naturally dark in com 
 plexion, and while the sun would probably burn her 
 cruelly and turn her young flesh, never before ex 
 posed to its intensity, darker, she would not grow 
 red or blister. She was thankful for that with un-
 
 50 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 conscious femininity. At any rate, she must get 
 used to going out in the sun without a hat, too. 
 People, natives who were born and lived in this lati 
 tude, did become accustomed to such things, she 
 knew, so undoubtedly could she. 
 
 With these thoughts, she stepped around the head 
 land and walked across the beach toward the palm 
 tree where she could see in the fading light ot the 
 late afternoon her prisoner was still tied. 
 
 Modesty is a negative term. That which is in 
 decent exposure in a ballroom is the height of con 
 vention on a sea shore, and vice versa. Certainly this 
 man had no concept of such a quality. He had not 
 noticed before when she had come out barefoot to 
 swim to the barrier reef, and yet somehow she fancied 
 as he stared at her approaching that this time he 
 marked the difference. And a slow, fiery blush flamed 
 over her from her bare feet to her bare head, extend 
 ing along her bare arms. She stopped under the per 
 suasion of impulse to turn and go back to the cave 
 and resume her clothing, at least so long as it might 
 last. But she was a woman of strong will. She 
 reasoned that all the emotions to which she was 
 subject were in her own bosom; that the man before 
 her neither knew nor cared as to the things which 
 vexed her. So she went on. 
 
 She had in her hand the sailor s knife, with the 
 blade open. She could not tell exactly in what mood 
 her prisoner might be. Indeed, she approached him
 
 The Island 51 
 
 with a certain terror, accounted for partly by the 
 situation and partly by the fact that in making this 
 change in her garments she had, as It were, cut her 
 self off from civilization and brought herself in 
 some degree at least nearer his physical level. But 
 she could not leave him there all night. Summoning 
 her courage, therefore, and with a bold front be 
 fore him, she advanced to the tree and untied the 
 rope from the trunk and untied it from his neck as 
 well. He stood silent, unresisting, through it all, 
 a rather pitiful figure, she thought at first, until he 
 was freed from the degrading halter. 
 
 Then she waited in intense and eager curiosity as 
 to what he should do next. The iron of his situa 
 tion had eaten into his soul. He had been mastered 
 by force. He could not understand it. He did not 
 love the mastery. Still without the knowledge of 
 his own powers, there occurred to him no way to 
 resent the ignominy to which he had been subjected. 
 He turned and walked away from her. She stood 
 amazed, staring after him. It was the first time he 
 had withdrawn himself from her presence. Where 
 was he going? Was this a declaration of war? 
 Was there to be enmity between them? In vague 
 terror, moved by a sudden impulse again, she called 
 him. 
 
 "Man!" she said. 
 
 He stopped, hesitated, looked back, turned and 
 went on again. He was deeply hurt. She could
 
 52 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 not see him go. It was unthinkable that he should 
 go. He was dangerous away from her. By her side 
 she could control him. 
 
 "Man!" she called again. 
 
 But this time he did not heed. An idea sprang to 
 her brain, working quickly under the pressure. She 
 lifted up her voice, for he was far from her now and 
 plodding steadily, doggedly toward the trees. 
 
 "John!" she cried. "John Revell Charnock!" 
 
 And at that sound the man stopped. He turned 
 and looked at her again. 
 
 " John ! " she repeated. " John ! " 
 
 She approached him. As she did so and when 
 she could get near enough to him, she observed that 
 wrinkling of the brow, that look of amazement 
 which she had noticed before. It was as if some 
 latent memory, some recollection of the past, were 
 struggling against the obscurity of years, as if some 
 thing were endeavoring to thrust itself through a sea 
 of oblivion and forgetfulness that overwhelmed his 
 mind, as if she were a voice which brought back 
 things he could neither understand nor utter, and yet 
 which meant something to him. 
 
 " John ! " she cried again, coming nearer to him. 
 
 She thrust out her hand ; she touched him. Again 
 she noticed that strange emotion consequent upon 
 her touch. She laid her hand upon his shoulder. 
 There was amity, confidence, reassurance. She 
 patted him as she might a dog.
 
 The Island 53 
 
 " John ! " she said, and then she turned away and 
 walked toward the shore. 
 
 Obediently he followed her. She thrust the knife 
 between her waist and the rope which she had rapidly 
 twisted about her middle and walked on in triumph. 
 If he had learned something, so had she. Someone 
 else had called this man John in days gone by. The 
 sound was not unfamiliar to him. He answered to 
 his name. That was he, John Revell Charnock! 
 She felt as if she were entering upon the solution of 
 the mystery of his presence. Perhaps the morrow 
 would tell. She would examine that boat and those 
 decaying evidences of humanity on the farther shore. 
 
 She felt elated that night ere she went to sleep in 
 the cave. The clew to the mystery, she fancied, was 
 in her hand. She had such occupation before her 
 as she had never hoped to come upon in a desert 
 island, at least. The rope added to her security. 
 By piling stones before the entrance to the cave 
 and reinforcing them with the boards from the wreck 
 of the boat and some fallen tree branches on the 
 shore, she made a sort of a barrier to it, not a bar 
 rier that would have kept out of the cave anyone 
 who desired to enter, but one which would have to 
 be removed before one could enter. And she so ar 
 ranged matters, tying the end of the rope to her 
 wrist, that any attempt to remove it would im 
 mediately waken her. That night she slept secure 
 and unmolested.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 LESSON AND LABOR 
 
 THE task to which she set herself in the morning 
 would have been an impossible one to many women, 
 and indeed it was a hard one to her. The buried 
 boat lay in the sand some rods distant from the 
 nearest tree. There was absolutely, no shelter from 
 the fierce heat of the tropic sun. She was not yet 
 fully accustomed to it, and, indeed, perhaps she 
 never would be able to endure it without some sort 
 of a head covering. She improvised a bonnet from 
 the leaf of a low springing palm tree, which with 
 her remaining handkerchief she tied about her head. 
 And then with her watchful friend by her side she 
 descended the beach to the boat and began to dig. 
 
 It was hard and very tedious work. With the 
 flat make-shift shovel in the shape of a rough piece 
 of board it was almost impossible to lift the sand. 
 Yet she attacked the task resolutely, and persevered 
 sturdily for a long time until the sweat beaded her 
 forehead; her back ached; her hands, unused to 
 manual toil of any kind, were almost blistered. She 
 realized at last that she would have to give it over. 
 
 She wondered as she ceased her labors whether 
 the constant observation which the man had sub- 
 
 54
 
 The Island 55 
 
 jected her to would enable him to continue the work. 
 As an experiment she handed him the shovel, stepped 
 out of the excavation she had made, and pointed to 
 ward it. He understood instantly. She was sur 
 prised at the unusual quickness of his apprehension, 
 for he set to work with a right good will and in a 
 minute the sand was flying. She noticed, half in 
 envy, how much more progress he made than she 
 could effect. What was labor for her was play for 
 him, and yet after a little space he stopped, threw 
 down the shovel and looked at her. 
 
 She had got in the habit of speaking to him as 
 if he understood, so she pointed to the shovel again, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 " Pick it up and go on." 
 
 Her meaning was obvious to him if her language 
 was not. It equally was evident to her that he had 
 no desire whatever to proceed with his task, but he 
 was still under the constraint of her superior person 
 ality, and presently he did as she bade him. It 
 amused her to reflect that in addition to all the other 
 lessons, so remarkable as almost to make his brain 
 reel and whirl, he was now learning the lesson of 
 toil. If she could only keep abreast of these great 
 abstract concepts she was putting into his being by 
 giving him some mental realization of them, so that 
 the spiritual development would keep pace with the 
 practical, she would be thoroughly satisfied with 
 her educational processes.
 
 56 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She mused on the problem as he labored silently 
 and vigorously. He stopped once or twice, but she 
 kept him to it, a feat vastly greater than she real 
 ized, until the interior of the boat, which was a small 
 ship s boat, a dinghy, had been entirely cleared out. 
 She had watched carefully every spadeful of sand 
 which had been tossed over the buried gunwales, and 
 now she searched eagerly the boat itself. Her in 
 spection revealed nothing. There were lockers at 
 either end. These she opened, finding nothing 
 therein but mouldering remains of cloth, bags of 
 some sort which she surmised might have contained 
 ship s bread, and a little barrel or keg, which had 
 probably carried water for the voyagers. 
 
 The boat was in an excellent state of preservation. 
 There was even a pair of oars lying on the thwarts. 
 If she could have dug it out of the sand entirely, she 
 fancied she could have launched it and used it. But 
 such a task was utterly beyond her. Besides, there 
 would have been no gain in having the boat afloat. 
 She would not dare to take it out beyond the barrier 
 reef, and there was nothing to row for in the lagoon. 
 
 She easily broke the rotting lines with which the 
 oars were secured and took them out. They would 
 be useful perhaps in some way. And then after a 
 long look at the boat, and with a feeling that her 
 labor had been mainly wasted, she was about to turn 
 away when the thought struck her that sometimes 
 boats carried the names of the ships to which they
 
 The Island 57 
 
 belonged on their bows or across their sterns. She 
 had recourse to the shovel once more, and after 
 some deliberation essayed the stern of the boat. 
 
 It was not so hard to shovel the sand away from 
 it, and here she did make a discovery, for although 
 the letters had been almost obliterated by the action 
 of the sand, she could still make them out. After 
 some study she decided that the name of the boat, 
 or of the ship to which it had belonged, had been 
 Nansemond, of Norfolk, Virginia. That was the 
 net result of the hard labors of a long morning. It 
 told her something, but not much. Assuming that 
 the man with her was John Revell Charnock, and 
 assuming that he had come to the island in the past 
 on that boat, it indicated that he was at least an 
 American and a Virginian. It identified him, if her 
 suppositions were correct, and whether there was 
 warrant for them or not, instinctively and naturally 
 she concluded that she was right. 
 
 Admitting all this, however, it gave her no other 
 clew from which to deduce a history. The testimony 
 of the boat was interesting, that was all. Her first 
 thought was to leave it all where it was, but her sec 
 ond thought was better. With the aid of the stout 
 piece of board which had served her for a shovel, 
 she hammered away at the stern-piece until she 
 broke it off. She saw now that the boat must have 
 lain there in the sancl for many years, for the wood 
 was brittle and the fastenings largely destroyed, fot
 
 58 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the stern-piece came easily away. She laid it aside 
 for a moment, intending to preserve it with the Bible. 
 Heaven knows what dream of future usefulness in 
 the way of evidence establishing identity these might 
 be entered her mind. 
 
 Then she threw herself down under the trees and 
 rested. She had left her watch, her precious watch, 
 back in the cave with the book. She did not dare to 
 carry it around with her. She had no way of carry 
 ing it in the thin single garment which she wore, but 
 she judged from the height of the sun that it must 
 be noontime. They made their meal off the fruits 
 of the island, this time with a rich and juicy cocoanut 
 added, which the man got for her at her suggestion. 
 in the sign language at which she was becoming ex 
 pert, by climbing with wonderful agility, apelike 
 agility almost, one of the tall cocoanut palms with 
 which the island abounded. There were fruits of 
 various sorts in great plenty on the island, and she 
 was becoming accustomed to the diet by degrees. 
 
 She passed the noon hour in trying to add to the 
 mental equipment of her companion. He could say 
 a number of words now and had some idea "of their 
 meaning, although he had not yet attempted to 
 frame sentences, nor had she yet tried to teach him 
 so to do. It was pleasant under the shade of the 
 trees. She found herself marveling at times as to 
 the contentment that possessed her, a product of the 
 civilization of the very end of the age suddenly
 
 The Island 59 
 
 plunged into this Edenlike existence which her fore 
 bears might have enjoyed ten thousand years before. 
 
 The hours ran on until the declining sun and the 
 coolness that came with the late afternoon warned 
 her that if she were to continue her explorations, she 
 must be about it immediately. So she rose and, 
 nerving herself to her task, went toward the coppice 
 where lay the ghastly remains of what had been a 
 human being. Forcing herself to the duty, with her 
 knife she carefully cut away the rushes, being par 
 ticular not to disturb the bones of the skeletons. 
 As before, she did all this in the face of a vigorous 
 remonstrance from the man. In some way, she 
 could not tell how, the place was horrible to him. 
 He would never have come near it evidently of his 
 own will, and although the power of memory in 
 him was but latent, the impression that had been 
 produced upon him by what she found there at some 
 period in his life was strong enough to make him 
 avoid it forever. 
 
 She did not ask him for any assistance; indeed, she 
 would not have trusted him with the knife under 
 any circumstances, and he made no attempt to keep 
 close to her. He stood on the outskirts of the 
 coppice in a great state of excitement, uttering 
 without sequence or reason, such words as she had 
 taught him. To him, in this instance, she gave no 
 heed. 
 
 Presently she had completely uncovered the two
 
 60 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 skeletons. She had studied anatomy, but was not a 
 specialist in that department of human learning. 
 She thought that the skeleton before her was that of 
 a woman. She measured its length with a piece of 
 tall grass and compared it with her own. They 
 were both of a size. The soil on which the bones 
 lay was soft and porous. Every vestige of clothing 
 had long since rotted away and disappeared with 
 the flesh it covered. If the person whose bones lay 
 there had worn any articles of gold or silver which, 
 being rustless, would have survived the long ex 
 posure, they were probably buried in the earth be 
 neath the bones. She would attend to that later. 
 
 Then she looked toward the bones at the feet of 
 the human remains and decided at last that they 
 were the bones of a dog. Across the vertebrae lay a 
 piece of metal. She picked it up, recognizing it in 
 stantly as a plate which had probably belonged to a 
 dog-collar. There was an inscription on it which 
 she did not take the trouble at the moment to read. 
 Slipping it into the bosom of her tunic, and making 
 sure that the confining rope would keep it from fall 
 ing out, she stooped down and gathered the bones 
 of the human being up in her arms, repulsive as the 
 task was, and carried them down to the boat on the 
 beach. She laid them in the bottom of the boat 
 carefully, and then, moved by a sudden impulse, she 
 went back and gathered up those of the dog, which 
 she put in the boat also. It was an easy matter to
 
 The Island 61 
 
 tumble a few spadefuls of sand over the bones. 
 Then she left them in that rude Viking sepulture, 
 knowing that time would soon refill the empty 
 dinghy, and the bones would be safely buried unless 
 some other investigator should uncover them. 
 
 The man had assisted her in no way in this pro 
 cess, but his excitement was very great. While she 
 stood looking down at the little heap of sand which 
 covered all that remained of this forlorn and for 
 gotten visitor to this island, wondering if the fate of 
 that trespasser upon these silent shores would some 
 day be hers, the man suddenly dropped on his knees, 
 as she had seen him do on her first night on the 
 island. He put his hands together and began that 
 mumbled jargon which she had not been able to 
 understand, but which had seemed to her more like 
 language than anything to which he had given vent. 
 She was surprised beyond measure, yet she listened 
 with every faculty on the alert, if possible to com 
 prehend what he might be saying, and presently a 
 familiar sound or two flashed into her mind that he 
 was making use of a prayer which she herself had 
 used in childhood; that, absurd, fantastic, impossible 
 though the conclusion was, he was saying the child 
 ish petition : 
 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep ! " 
 
 The first impulse of the woman was to laugh. 
 The next impulse was to take off the palm leaf hat 
 and stand with bowed head and clasped hands.
 
 62 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 What marvelous miracle was this that throughout 
 the years which she could no longer doubt this man 
 had been alone on the island, there had survived the 
 one childish habit of prayer, and that the one vestige 
 of language which had remained to him was the 
 language of petition. She did not believe in it, of 
 course. It was absurd to her, but it was none the 
 less wonderful. It filled her with a certain awe. It 
 was as if some power had maintained a hold upon 
 the consciousness of this man in this way. What 
 power ? 
 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep ! " How long it 
 had been since she had said that! She believed 
 nothing, she cared for nothing, but the woman hid 
 her face in her hands for a moment. She clenched 
 her teeth and forced out of her mind that which at 
 that moment was striving for birth. She was to 
 teach this man everything. She was to make him 
 know life and history. She was to bring him in 
 touch with all the glories of to-day, and she recog 
 nized in that hour, although she did not and could 
 not admit it, that perhaps he might teach her some 
 thing as well, something that she had not known, or 
 something that she had forgotten, without the 
 knowledge of which all her science was a vain, a 
 foolish, a futile thing. 
 
 As she stood there with these thoughts running 
 through her mind, there came back to her recollec 
 tion those words of Scripture which she had read
 
 The Island 63 
 
 with such disdain last night, " The fool hath said in 
 his heart there is no God" Was the poet right? 
 Had there been vouchsafed to him revelations 
 greater than those revealed to the microscope of the 
 .scientist, the scalpel of the anatomist, the telescope 
 of the astronomer, the pure reason of the philos 
 opher. Was she a fool? Nonsense 
 
 The little prayer was ended. The man rose to his 
 feet. She took her spade and went back to the 
 place where the bodies had lain, and there began 
 carefully to scrape away the earth, examining 
 scrupulously every shovelful ere she threw it aside. 
 In one place, where the hands had rested, she re 
 membered, her labors were rewarded. She came 
 across two rings, a diamond and a plain circlet of 
 gold. These she placed in her tunic with the collar 
 and continued her digging. 
 
 It was growing late and growing dark, but she 
 left no square inch of ground unexplored. She 
 found nothing else. The rings belonged to a woman 
 evidently. Her surmise in that particular was 
 right. There were no other metal parts of her 
 apparel left. The nails in her shoes, the steels of 
 her corset had rusted away and left no sign. There 
 was nothing remaining but the two little baubles 
 pressing against her own warm flesh. 
 
 So intent had she been that the sun had gone down 
 before she ceased, and upon the island there de 
 scended that quick and sudden night of the tropics.
 
 64 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 The wind had risen, the old ocean was thundering 
 on the barrier reef, and a heavy sea breeze was 
 shrieking through the trees. The sky on the horizon 
 was overclouded, and the clouds were rising rapidly. 
 There would be a storm, which was developing with 
 tropic rapidity. Quickly she retraced her steps 
 along the sand toward the cave on the other side, the 
 man following. 
 
 They had progressed not more than half the way 
 when the storm burst upon them. Peals of thunder 
 and flashes of lightning filled the air. It was such a 
 display of the Titanic forces of the world as might 
 have appalled the stoutest heart. It filled the 
 woman with a vague terror. She noticed with satis 
 faction that the man was entirely unmoved by the 
 terrific demonstrations of nature. By the flashes of 
 lightning as they stumbled along in the otherwise 
 total blackness, she could see his face serene. In a 
 moment of apprehension she caught his hand with 
 her own and clung to it tightly. It was the uncon 
 scious appeal of the physical weaker to the physical 
 stronger. Her hand had clasped the hands of her 
 fellow creatures many times. Never before had his 
 palm met the palm of human being, much less a 
 woman s. She could feel that tremor run through 
 him, but by instinct as it were, he met her hand 
 clasp with his own, and together they made their 
 way to the cave. 
 
 They had scarcely reached it when the rain burst
 
 The Island 65 
 
 upon them. The heavens were opened, the floods 
 descended, they beat upon the sands in fury. She 
 could not drive him out there in that flood for the 
 night. She motioned him to come within the en 
 trance of the cave, which was sheltered from the 
 wind and which was dry and still. She made him 
 lie down near the entrance, and then withdrawing 
 herself into a recess at the side, she disposed the 
 oars which he had carried home on his shoulder, in 
 front of her, from wall to wall, and lashing them 
 with the rope to her person, made another feeble 
 barrier, but which would yet give the alarm to her 
 and waken her if it were moved. And presently she 
 went to sleep. She was too tired even to speculate 
 on her discoveries, or to piece them together; that 
 would be occupation for the morning.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE VOICES OF THE PAST 
 
 IT rained hard during most of the night. The 
 woman slept lightly, and whenever she woke she 
 could hear outside of her sanctuary the roar of the 
 storm. The man, as usual, slept the long hours 
 through as undisturbed by the commotion as a child. 
 It was apparent to her that he had absolutely no 
 fear. Whether this was due to ignorance or tem 
 perament she could not say. Was fear, after all, 
 under the conditions in which his life had been lived, 
 a purely articificial quality, or was it natural and in 
 herent? He had avoidances, abhorrences, antipa 
 thies, as the skeletons in the coppice which she 
 had buried. Was that avoidance fear, or was it 
 something else? Was it instinct, or did it arise 
 from recollection? She rather fancied the last. If 
 so, it was evident that the man had been on the 
 island a long time. It would have taken years for 
 the metal that must have been about that woman s 
 person to rust away, for the steel clasps of the dog s 
 collar entirely to disappear. 
 
 Upon that faint memory that he cherished, upon 
 that prayer that he prayed, she could build the foun 
 dation of his education. She had been so successful 
 
 66
 
 The Island 67 
 
 m training him and in restraining him, in influenc 
 ing him and swaying him so far, that she had abun 
 dant confidence in her ability to do so to the end. 
 It was quite evident that life would be easily support 
 able under the conditions in which it must be lived 
 on that island. She need have no physical concern 
 as to her material well-being or comfort, and here 
 was mental occupation and stimulus which made her 
 for the time being forget the rest of the world. 
 
 Indeed, she thought bitterly, as she lay awake dur 
 ing the long watches of the night, that the rest of 
 the world was nothing to her and that she hated it. 
 She therefore not only was becoming resigned to her 
 situation, but was rejoicing in it. She would teach 
 this man all she knew. She would teach him to 
 think, to reflect, to reason. She would teach him 
 to talk. Since she had a book, albeit a sorry one, 
 she would teach him to read. 
 
 It was evident that the island was an unknown one. 
 At least no one could have landed upon it from any 
 passing ship since this man had come there. No one 
 could have sailed near enough to it to have espied 
 him. She remembered that on the yacht she had 
 sought for lonely and unfrequented seas, and had 
 gained her wish. The most unhappy people in the 
 world usually are those to whom wishes are granted. 
 She had just escaped that unhappiness because of the 
 presence of this man on the island. And yet when 
 she landed on that island, she had escaped other
 
 68 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 things, she thought bitterly, infinitely more fraught 
 with horrible and revolting possibilities than any 
 thing else that could occur to her or which she could 
 imagine to be held in waiting for her by malign fate. 
 Better this primitive savage than civilization as she 
 had found it. How had her philosophy broken down 
 before she reached that island. How abhorrent to 
 remember had been her only attempt to put it in 
 practice. 
 
 She would think of none of these things. She 
 would put them out of her mind as they had gone 
 out of her sight. She was lost to her world, to any 
 world with which she had been familiar. She would 
 create a new world of her own, he and she together. 
 Her thoughts took strange leaps forward in the dark 
 ness. He would be hers, the product of her ability. 
 She would teach him. She stopped. Would he 
 teach her? That question came again and again. 
 Like Banquo s ghost, it would not down. She was 
 a woman, and he a man. What were the possibilities 
 of that situation? She belonged to the sex called 
 the weaker, to the sex characterized by dependence. 
 She resented these things as she ever had, and yet 
 she could not blind her eyes to the truth in them. 
 Her resentment against things which ought not to be 
 could in no wise alter conditions. Physically this 
 man was the most perfect of his species. She had an 
 artist s eye for the symmetry and perfection of his 
 proportions. If his brain corresponded, what then?
 
 The Island 69 
 
 What would he teach her? What did Adam teach 
 Eve, and what did Eve teach Adam? 
 
 The names of the ancient myth, the vague per 
 sonalities associated with it, brought back the book 
 that lay upon the ledge by her side. She reached 
 her hand out in the darkness and laid it upon the 
 volume. How strange that it alone of all the litera 
 ture that the world held should have been thrown at 
 her feet. In her enlightenment, with her superior 
 knowledge, the book that she disdained from its 
 spiritual side, although she regarded it with a cer 
 tain amount of interest archeologically, was all she 
 had of the world s writings. Yet she did not take 
 her hand away from that book. Somehow, although 
 she did not reason about it or understand it, possibly 
 even admit it in her heart, certainly she would have 
 denied it had anyone pressed it upon her attention, 
 she took comfort from the mere feel of it under her 
 hand. 
 
 " The fool hath said in his heart there is no 
 God! " What a strange saying ! In spite of herself 
 she began to reason about it, to explore the sentence, 
 to find out its meaning. What did it signify? That 
 he who denied God was a fool? Certainly that, but 
 anything more? Was there something subtler, 
 deeper, in its content? Did it mean that he who 
 would fain play the fool must begin by denying 
 God? That there could be no ultimate folly so 
 long as a belief in God abided? The saving grace
 
 70 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 of that mumbled prayer on the sand, uncompre- 
 hended, but remembered! What did it all mean? 
 Might there be above this fine human intelligence 
 a Power higher? She would look at that book in 
 the morning. 
 
 The rain fell more softly now. Her eyes drooped. 
 She would look at that book again in the morning. 
 The fool had said . . ,. Who was a fool? 
 . . . What had he said? 
 
 She slept again, only to wake and muse once more. 
 She could have slept better had he been outside. 
 How could he lie there in the complete and steeping 
 insensibility of slumber. Her hand fell against her 
 breast. There was the treasure trove of her exist 
 ence the day before. What would they tell her? 
 She could scarcely wait until morning to look. So 
 she woke and slept and woke and slept until the day 
 broke. 
 
 It was bright and sunshiny out, although there 
 were ominous clouds all about the western horizon. 
 It was probable that the rainy season was at hand, 
 if not upon them. She regretted that she had not 
 given more time to the study of nature, to the fauna 
 and flora of the South Seas, to the conditions of wind 
 and weather under which life was lived there. Much 
 philosophy would she gladly have parted with for 
 such practical information. She had to piece her 
 ideas of affairs out from scraps and tags of knowl 
 edge, unclassified, incoherent; from vague recollec-
 
 The Island 71 
 
 tions of childhood stories and romances; from care 
 lessly scanned collections of voyages, books of travel 
 and adventure. The result was unsatisfactory. In 
 some particulars the instinctive man before her was 
 her master. At the things which went to make up 
 physical comfort and well-being in a state of abso 
 lute nature he certainly surpassed her. 
 
 She was thankful when she walked abroad that 
 she had had the shelter of the cave, for everything 
 was drenched from the terrific downpour. If it was 
 the beginning of the wet season, she knew that the 
 rains would soon come again. Still she luxuriated 
 in what freedom she had. Without removing her 
 single garment she plunged into the lagoon for a 
 refreshing bath. The man followed her and swam 
 about her, moving slowly, with less skill than she, 
 but as easily as a porpoise plunges about the bow 
 of a progressing ship. 
 
 Refreshed, she came back to the mouth of the 
 cave and brought thence for a careful inspection all 
 her worldly possessions save the little heap of cloth 
 ing which she had carefully piled upon the jutting 
 shelf in the shadow of the cave for time of need. 
 She ranged them on the sands before her. There 
 was the Bible, and the little silver box which she had 
 found in the cave. She examined more critically its 
 contents, wondering what they might be, and finally 
 there came into her mind recognition that they were 
 flint and steel I When she wished, she could make a
 
 72 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 fire. She was happy for the moment in the knowl 
 edge, and then the uselessness of the power came 
 across her curiously. What did she want of fire? 
 There was nothing to cook. Its warmth was un 
 necessary. Still she was glad to have the ancient 
 flame kindlers, and she laid them aside carefully in 
 the box, not knowing when they might be useful, 
 under what circumstances invaluable. At least she 
 might regard them as apparatus which would be 
 helpful in the curriculum through which she meant 
 her savage pupil should pass. 
 
 Then there was her watch, which she guarded as 
 the apple of her eye. It was an American watch of 
 the very best make, and although it had gone with 
 her through the waters, such was the workmanship 
 of the case that it had taken no harm. It was ticking 
 away bravely, marking time. She thought that for 
 her time had stopped, and yet she was glad indeed 
 for the almost human sound it made when she laid 
 it lovingly against her cheek. 
 
 There were the hairpins, also, for which she was 
 most grateful. They enabled her to keep her hair 
 in order. She had a wealth of glorious hair, black as 
 the midnight sky. With the aid of the mirror and of 
 the comb, which also was a priceless treasure, she ar 
 ranged it carefully according to the mode which best 
 became her, irrespective quite of the fashion that 
 had prevailed. At least she was free from that tyr 
 anny upon the island! Sometimes, when she had fin-
 
 The Island 73 
 
 ished her toilet, she shot a glance at the watchful 
 man, a human, natural, instinctive glance, but she was 
 able to detect no change in his mental attitude, which 
 was that of such complete and entire adoration, 
 mingled with timidity and hesitation, that no tran 
 sient change apparently was able to modify it. He 
 looked upon her as he might have looked upon a 
 god, she thought, had he known what a god was and 
 had there been such a thing to look at. 
 
 There was also the pair of scissors, together with 
 the little housewife with needles and thread. Mir 
 ror, hairpins, scissors, sewing materials, comb 
 woman s gear; and the Bible, a woman s book, she 
 reflected with a certain bitterness, unconscious of the 
 truth of her thought, a book for children, old 
 women, and women-led men ! Well, that philosophy 
 upon which she prided herself must come to her as 
 sistance now, and she could not afford to disdain the 
 volume, which was all that the world of many books 
 offered to her for her purpose, because she did not 
 believe in it. The truth was in her, and she could 
 tell him what it was despite the assertions of the 
 printed pages. 
 
 In the leather bag there was absolutely nothing ex 
 cept broken glass and scratched bottle tops of silver, 
 and the bag itself was ruined. She separated the 
 pieces of metal and the metal fittings of the bag, 
 which were also of silver, and, filling the rotting 
 leather with sand, she presently sank it in the lagoon.
 
 74 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Last of all she examined what she had brought 
 from the other shore of the island the night before. 
 The silver was tarnished, but by rubbing it in the 
 sand she soon brightened it. It was heavily en 
 graved, and she had no difficulty in making out the 
 words "John Revell Charnock His Dog." After 
 that was a date, "July 22, 1875." John Revell 
 Charnock, then, would be twenty-one years old, as 
 suming that this was he and that the dog had been 
 given him when he was born. It was more prob 
 able, however, that he was from three to five years 
 old before he became the owner of a dog, which 
 would make him about twenty-five. 
 
 The man before her looked younger to her scru 
 tiny than that. Care and trouble had passed him by. 
 With nothing to vex him he might have been any 
 age. He would probably look just as he was for 
 twenty years or more. Still fancifully adjusting ex 
 ternal relations to internal relations, which, after 
 all, she realized was the secret of life according to 
 her favorite philosopher, she concluded that the man 
 was twenty-five, three years older than she at that 
 moment, a proper difference in their ages for . . . 
 Her face flamed. . . . She scarcely knew why, 
 and she turned to an inspection of the rings. 
 
 The first was a diamond, a solitaire, of large 
 size and of rare beauty, she judged. Although she 
 was not especially expert in such matters, she deemed 
 it must be of great value. There was no inscription
 
 The Island 75 
 
 of any sort within the narrow hoop of gold, although 
 she searched keenly the inner surface. The diamond 
 was curiously set. There was an exquisite tracery 
 of a little coat of arms on either side of the setting, 
 done in miniature, but with a skill to marvel at, yet 
 too small even for her brilliant vision to decipher 
 in detail. 
 
 The other she recognized with a sneer as one of 
 those fetters of convention, a wedding ring. It was 
 a heavier hoop of gold, much engraved within. She 
 washed it in the stream and rubbed it in the sand 
 until she could make it out. "J. R. C.," she read, 
 "to M. P. T." There was a date after, "Septem 
 ber 10, 1869," and then these cabalistic words, 
 "II Cor. xii-i5," which she presently divined to be 
 a reference to some text in the Bible, fit source from 
 which to select the "posy of a ring," agreeable to 
 those who submit to such ancient follies as the well- 
 named bonds of matrimony. 
 
 She reached for the Bible and with unfamiliar 
 fingers searched through it until she found the place. 
 
 "I will very gladly spend and be spent for you; 
 though the more abundantly I love you, the less I 
 be loved 
 
 The beauty of the phrase caught her fancy. She 
 read with a strange new interest the chapter in 
 which these words were enshrined. The touch of 
 human passion came to her across the long years, 
 and with the ring sparkling in her own white hand
 
 76 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 she embodied its tradition in personality, and the 
 woman who had been so loved stood before her. 
 Her eyes fell again upon the man, and the dream 
 was broken. 
 
 She pieced together now all that she had of him, 
 smiling as she did so at the thought of certain 
 strange stories she had read wherein men of marvel 
 ous deductive powers had brought to solution prob 
 lems which appeared as impossible of detection as 
 this presented to her. 
 
 John Revell Charnock, evidently the father of the 
 man of the island, had married one M. P. T. on the 
 roth of September, 1869. Perhaps within a year 
 afterward this John Revell Charnock, assuming him, 
 as was likely, to have borne his father s name, was 
 born. Charnock was an old English name. The 
 best English stock in the United States was of 
 Massachusetts and Virginia. The stern-piece of the 
 boat bore the name of a Virginia river and of a 
 Virginia town. The man before her was a Virgin 
 ian, therefore. Say he was born in 1871 ; it would 
 make him twenty-five years old, in accordance with 
 her first guess. The father and mother, possibly 
 ruined by the results of the Civil War, had embarked 
 on some vessel to seek fortune in a new land. Some 
 thing had happened to the ship, and the woman, the 
 little boy, and the dog had landed in some way upon 
 these shores alone after some horrible voyage, per 
 haps like that she had passed through. The boy
 
 The Island 77 
 
 must have been five or six years old, else he would 
 have died, being deserted. The woman had indeed 
 died, and the dog with her, and left the lad alone. 
 Alone he had been for a score of years on that 
 island. What watchful Providence! . . . Stop! 
 She believed in no Providence. What strange, mys 
 terious fate had kept him from the end of the other 
 two, had preserved him alive . . . for her? 
 
 So she wove a history out of her treasure trove for 
 this man, a history which at least satisfied her and 
 which, the more she reasoned about it and the more 
 she tested it, seemed absolutely adequate and en 
 tirely correct. Well, she had opportunity now, and 
 she was glad. She faced the future calmly, recog 
 nizing her chance and her work, and set about with 
 systematic method, order, and persistence to teach 
 this man what it was to be a human being, to give 
 him, as rapidly as she might communicate it and as 
 he might receive it, all the learning she possessed; 
 to compensate him, with no further delay, for those 
 twenty years of silence. 
 
 Was it for this she had been trained and educated 
 at great cost of time and money and effort? That 
 she, being a woman, should give it all to this one 
 man without money and without price?
 
 BOOK II 
 THE SHIE
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE BASELESS FABRIC 
 
 TRUE philosophy is ascetic. It may best be prac 
 tised under conditions in which the material is in 
 abeyance. It exalts the spiritual. It is distinguished 
 by indifference to environment. There is nothing so 
 fatal to its profession as extravagance. Frugality 
 is to the philosopher what modesty is to a woman 
 the essential thing without which it and she cease 
 to be of value. 
 
 The atmosphere into which Katharine Brenton 
 was suddenly plunged by her bold step was the very 
 antithesis of all these requirements. It was un- 
 healthful, and, like unhealthful airs, it bred disaster. 
 She had been trained to independence of conditions, 
 to disregard of circumstances, as well as to disdain of 
 restraint ; but there was that within her surroundings 
 which, from her first experience of them, she felt in 
 stinctively to be vitiating, which tended to deprave, 
 which precluded the exercise of clear, uninfluenced 
 mentality. Especially in her case was this true since 
 the luxury with which she had been surrounded ap 
 pealed so subtly to the preponderant and, it must be 
 admitted, immortal feminine in her composition. Sex 
 distinction, sex difference, was the one thing against 
 which she fought. Sex equality was the supreme 
 
 81
 
 82 ?The ^Licand of Regeneration 
 
 good to be desired in her scheme of right relation 
 ships between the individual and the universe. 
 Whiles she rebelled against her sex, whiles she re 
 joiced in it. Glad was she sometimes on that very 
 account that to her was given the opportunity to 
 prove her superiority to the limitations, disabilities, 
 and man-made trammels of womankind. 
 
 Born of two fanatics on the same subject, whose 
 insanity was modified and mollified by brilliancy of 
 intellect in every other field of investigation and ex 
 periment, Katharine Brenton had been trained to the 
 hour for her profession, for the exploitation of her 
 principles. The greatest of universities pointed to 
 her with peculiar pride as one of the children of the 
 free; free from everything in thought, and deter 
 mined to be free from everything in action. Much 
 was expected from her, and the world was not dis 
 appointed at the first result of her mental labor. 
 There were certain old-fashioned people who de 
 plored the perversion of so much talent, and even 
 genius, to the defense of error, but these did not 
 count. The world bought her book in thousands, 
 read it avidly, and regarded it as the last word of 
 the last woman of the end of the age on the sex prob 
 lem. Cleverly disguising her philosophy in the form 
 of fiction, with one bound she had leaped to the fore 
 front of all the writers struggling for recognition. 
 Publishers sought her. Magazines pursued her. An 
 other book took shape in her mind.
 
 The Ship 83 
 
 Singularly enough, her education and the erratic 
 bent of her mind had left her primarily quite un 
 spoiled. She was the product not merely of her age, 
 her environment, her parents, but of a long genera 
 tion of people to whom her thoughts would have 
 been as abhorrent as her person was agreeable. The 
 unconscious Christianity which surrounds the world, 
 and especially the world of woman, kept her pure 
 and sweet and lovable these In spite of, not because 
 of, her perverse and perverted philosophy. Though 
 she defied convention in its spirit, she was naturally 
 subject to it in its exercise. For instance, to her the 
 marriage bond was indeed a bond, the marriage vow 
 a confession of weakness on the part of the woman 
 at least and the marriage relation an acknowledg 
 ment of inferiority again on the part of the woman. 
 She would have none of these things in her life. Yet, 
 as she thought, she had given her heart to a man 
 alas, the submission to the eternal law! and al 
 though their relationship was sanctioned by nothing 
 but their affection, it was to her as pure and as holy 
 a thing as if the contract had been witnessed and 
 blest by a thousand priests. What was it to him? 
 She counted without the other sex. Many other 
 women, unfortunately, have done the same. 
 
 Not content with the writing of books, her intense 
 devotion to her cause, coupled with her unflagging 
 energy, had found vent upon the lecture platform. 
 The curious crowded to hear her, at once so bold, so
 
 84 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 radical, so beautiful, and so innocent. One of her 
 first converts had been the only son of a multi 
 millionaire, bygone bonanza king of the Pacific slope. 
 His conversion was not so much an effort of pure 
 reason as of primal passion, although that fact was 
 in no wise apparent to her. She would find that 
 out later. This modern Hypatia, skilled in the learn 
 ing of the schools, burning with exhaustless zeal, 
 permeated with fiery energy, was yet as innocent in 
 some ways as any of her humbler sisters. As that 
 good Book which she disdained in the newer illum 
 inations which had come to her might have said of 
 her, she was in the world, but not of it. 
 
 Unconsciously she fulfilled many injunctions of 
 Him who, had she but known it, was the greatest of 
 philosophers. Naturally she kept herself unspotted 
 from the world. Yet when the young man who had 
 engaged her affections proposed to her that they 
 should put her theories in practice, after some hesi 
 tation she had acceded to his proposition. It was 
 a species of self-immolation not far from heroism 
 that made her consent. Indeed, she did not realize 
 how heroic it was. With no other ceremony than a 
 clasp of the hand and an unspoken, wordless promise 
 of trust, devotion, single-hearted alliance, publicly 
 and before God and man, without a thought for the 
 one and with no full realization of the thoughts of 
 the other at least on her part they had gone away 
 together, hand in hand, he and she together, in love
 
 The Ship 85 
 
 like any other pair since Eve mated with Adam in 
 the dawn of the world s first morning. 
 
 Yet there has never been an Eden of which man 
 has known without its serpent. In the cabin of that 
 gorgeous yacht, Sathanas reared his head. The first 
 week or so of the adventure had been filled with 
 idyllic happiness, happiness so great that it was 
 strong enough to quiet certain low, still, small voices 
 of conscience which the woman rightly ascribed to 
 a strange atavism of ancient prejudice to which her 
 philosophy was as yet unequal. 
 
 However, such conditions did not long persist. 
 Her disciple was inclined, presently she found to her 
 sorrow, to take a somewhat lower view of the situa 
 tion than suited her own high-souled views. The 
 ardor of her devotee cooled as his passion increased. 
 Shut up in the narrow confines of a ship great and 
 splendid though this yacht was beyond imagination 
 little characteristics, heretofore unsuspected, de 
 veloped in the mere man. The course of true love 
 was not so smooth as the summer seas over which 
 they sailed. The air in which they lived was ruffled 
 by flurries in which experience would have found 
 presage of coming deeper storm. The image that 
 had feet of clay sought for similar earthly alloy in 
 the companion image which was made of pure gold 
 all through, and finding it not, resented it desper 
 ately. The convert, having gained his desire, weak 
 ened in his principles. There was no relaxation in
 
 86 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 his devotion, in his tenderness, in anything outward 
 and visible, but the high philosophy which had made 
 the joint effort almost a self-sacrifice of demonstra 
 tion was slowly vanishing from one heart while the 
 other clung the more tenaciously to it. 
 
 It was the old, old story. In a little time the cats- 
 paw developed into the tempest. When it appeared 
 it came with surprising swiftness. The woman found 
 that in neither abstract thought nor mental specula 
 tion was there any protection for her. There might 
 be no God in heaven, but there was a conscience in 
 her breast. Finally she broke away from the man so 
 far as she could do so when they were both in the 
 same ship of which he was lord and master. She 
 would have nothing more to do with him save that 
 which common decency and the bare civilities of life 
 demanded of her. Denied the privileges upon which 
 he had counted, the man grew savage and showed 
 the cloven foot. The disagreement became a quarrel. 
 The quarrel ran through several phases. Ashamed 
 of himself, he had recanted at first. Then he had 
 sworn again allegiance to the specious philosophy 
 which she now realized he had only professed, con 
 sciously or unconsciously, that he might possess her. 
 But she was not deceived. There was no truth in 
 his words; his asseverations carried no conviction to 
 her soul. Again he stormed and raged; once more 
 he apologized and appealed, but the periods of calm 
 grew shorter and the periods of storm grew longer
 
 The Ship 87 
 
 and more vehement. The woman alone was stead 
 fast. She was overwhelmed with shame, the horror 
 of the situation was rising upon her. 
 
 She began to realize how helpless she was. Under, 
 the inspiration of a belief which was as honest as 
 it was mistaken, she had put herself in the power 
 of this man. Even if she were ashore, there would 
 be no one to whom she could appeal, and here on the 
 ship she was helpless. Lingering remains of better 
 things had kept him from the last resort of the ty 
 rant force ! but how long these would be opera 
 tive in restraint, she could not tell. She fancied not 
 for long. What should she do then? 
 
 She saw the end coming when in his anger he re 
 sorted to drink, to drink which exploded the last 
 vestige of his philosophy, however he had professed 
 it. She was frightened beyond measure when she 
 realized the depths to which he had sunk and to 
 which, in spite of herself, he had dragged her. What 
 further descent was before her? She did not even 
 yet abandon that philosophy which had served her 
 so ill. She clung to that with the more tenacious 
 pride because of its very weakness, but she loathed 
 mankind. On that yacht he summed up for her the 
 whole human race, and she hated him and it. To 
 what sorry pass had a few weeks practical experi 
 ence reduced her? In the last analysis she felt that 
 she could die. Suicide was always possible. Rather 
 than endure further pollution, what she now char-
 
 88 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 acterized as the degradation of his touch, she could 
 slip overboard into the blue depths whose calm was 
 so attractive to her storm-torn soul. 
 
 Yet, in spite of the loathing with which she re 
 garded herself for having been so foolish, so swayed 
 by human feeling to which she had believed herself 
 superior, as to be blinded to the real character of the 
 man with whom she had so defiantly gone away in 
 the full light of day, she still loved life. She pro 
 tested in her soul that a single mistake should not 
 blight her career; the decision of a moment should 
 not be allowed to settle the affairs of a lifetime. She 
 could repair her awful blunder and take up her life 
 again, she thought fatuously, if she could only get 
 away. 
 
 There was another thing that made her cling to 
 existence. Suicide would be a confession of fail 
 ure. She would not admit to herself that she had 
 failed. She would not allow the world, which had 
 stood at her feet with acclaim, to point, as it would 
 do with the same zest, the finger of scorn at her. 
 She must live. She had work to do. If she could 
 only get away! 
 
 Her affection for this man, which had been largely 
 maternal, experimental, inquisitorial, which had been 
 begot of the martyr spirit in which she had resolved 
 to show humanity that she could despise convention 
 when it was wrong and live, was gone. She de 
 spised him and she pitied him. There yet remained
 
 The Ship 89 
 
 one completing feeling which she would presently 
 entertain for him, and when that found lodgment in 
 her bosom, action would become imperative. 
 
 She had said, as they took their departure through 
 the Golden Gate of vain, fond dreams that she 
 wanted to go to unknown seas, when he had asked, 
 on that never-to-be-forgotten night when they had 
 left civilization behind, what was her pleasure. She 
 felt somehow a sympathy for the unknown sea when 
 adventuring upon such a course, and the yacht, pro 
 visioned for a long cruise, had steamed steadily to 
 the southwest through the great Pacific. They had 
 long since passed the line and were in strange and 
 unfrequented waters. The navigating officer had 
 told her that at any time they might expect to run 
 across unknown, unvisited islands, from the ex 
 ploration of which, when she started out with such 
 rosy hopes, she had promised herself much pleasure. 
 Now she desired only civilization, base, ignoble, re 
 strained, thwarted, dwarfed, hideous civilization. 
 As it was, she longed to be free of a presence even, 
 not realizing that at least she could never be free 
 from a recollection. She longed to stand before her 
 kind and tell them how she despised them, perhaps 
 lead some of them to better ways, warn some others 
 from follies and trusts which had betrayed her; to 
 be a philosopher once more, and not merely a stricken 
 woman. 
 
 She had begged and pleaded with him to alter
 
 90 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the yacht s course, but he had sworn he would go 
 farther South into those unknown seas, and keep her 
 there until she crawled to his feet. So the long hours 
 dragged on. The inevitable rupture drew nearer. 
 At last it came. In its details it was horrible, but 
 there was in it a great relief after all.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE JOY OF FREEDOM 
 
 ONE night at dinner she had fled from him. He had 
 been drinking more heavily than usual and was in an 
 ugly mood. His handsome face was flushed, a sav 
 age frown overspread his brow. He had risen dur 
 ing the meal and with a coarse endearment had at 
 tempted to lay hands upon her at last! She had 
 broken away and darted into the nearest cabin, which 
 happened to be his own. She had closed the door 
 and turned the key against him before he realized 
 what she was about. She stood within the little 
 room panting, enraged, fearful, yet ready to defend 
 her all, and almost glad the crisis had arrived. She 
 could hear his drunken laugh outside the door. 
 
 " Why, you little fool ! " he cried, " do you think 
 I can t break that lock down in a moment? The 
 ship s mine, every man on it s mine. I pay em. 
 They do my bidding. I have you where I want you, 
 and I can have you again as before when I please; 
 now or later." 
 
 Was it true ? Could she appeal to the men ? But 
 what could she say? Although the world knew there 
 was no binding tie between them, to the officers and 
 men of the yacht she was his wife. They would not 
 
 91
 
 92 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 interfere. And if she declared the truth, she would 
 put herself beyond the pale of their sympathies. Be 
 ing merely stupid men with conventional ideas about 
 propriety, in that event they would be less apt to in 
 terfere than ever. It was true she could do nothing. 
 She sank down on a transom, clenching her hands. 
 She could hear him outside chuckling to himself and, 
 by the clink of bottle and glass, evidently drinking 
 deeper. She feared him desperately when he was in 
 his cups. Then he was another man, losing all re 
 semblance to the being for whom she had fatuously 
 thought she cared. Therefore she would wait until 
 he drank himself into insensibility, as he had once or 
 twice, or went up on deck, and then she would go out 
 and go to her own cabin, although it would merely 
 mean changing from one prison to another. What 
 could she do by temporizing any way, temporizing 
 and warding off as best she might until she was face 
 to face with the final decision, death or compliance, 
 freedom in the beyond whose existence was so vague 
 and indefinite to her, or a slavery so base that any 
 thing were preferable to it. 
 
 As she sat, her eyes fell on a chest of drawers 
 screwed against the bulkhead. The top contained 
 various toilet articles of silver. Among them was a 
 picture, the picture of a woman. It was not her 
 picture. Moved by what impulse she did not stop 
 to analyze, she rose and picked it up. The face 
 she looked at was ineffably vulgar and common.
 
 The Ship 93 
 
 Across the bottom was written in a scrawly, un 
 formed hand, " Your devoted wife." There was a 
 date several years before that hour. Your devoted 
 wife! She had been in that stateroom before; she 
 had never seen that picture. He had only brought 
 it out since the rupture between them. 
 
 And so while entering into this relationship with 
 her, in compliance with principles and ideas which she 
 at least regarded as sacred and holy, he had not 
 been a free man. There was another woman to 
 whom he had been bound. Oh, not by the marriage 
 tie that she disdained, but by the honor which was 
 supposed to exist among thieves, and which certainly 
 should exist among philosophers. And such a 
 woman! A cold fury filled her mind as she looked 
 at the picture. The last completing touch had been 
 given. To contempt and pity for him was added 
 hatred. The combination transformed her. In 
 stead of avoiding, she would seek him. 
 
 He was still in the cabin. She could hear him 
 muttering thickly to himself. Impulsively she stepped 
 to the door, turned the key in the lock, threw 
 it open and entered the brilliantly lighted, luxurious 
 cabin. He had dismissed the stewards some time 
 since with orders not to reappear unless he summoned 
 them, and they were alone. There was no likeli 
 hood of any interruptions whatsoever. The man, 
 who was leaning back in his chair, bent forward 
 when she opened the door. He laughed viciously.
 
 94 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 If she had reflected, she would have marveled at the 
 change that a few weeks had wrought in one whom 
 she had hitherto deemed worthy of her affection, but 
 she had eyes and thought for nothing except the 
 business in hand. 
 
 " So you ve come out, have you?" he stammered 
 triumphantly. "Come of your own free will? 
 You ve found out, have you, that I am master, and 
 you are coming to heel? " 
 
 He whistled to her derisively, whistled as if to 
 a dog! 
 
 u Who is this? " asked the woman in a voice care 
 fully suppressed, yet which shook with wrath. 
 
 She held the photograph in its heavy silver frame 
 up before him. 
 
 "That s my wife," he said equably, with no sur 
 prise or consternation. " We haven t lived together 
 for some years," he went on with drunken good na 
 ture, " or I d take you back to San Francisco and in 
 troduce you to her." 
 
 " Your wife! " exclaimed the woman in that same 
 low, tense voice. "Then what am I?" 
 
 " My mistress," said the man bluntly, throwing 
 the last shred of concealment and decency to the 
 winds, " and a damned obstreperous one at that," 
 he went on. 
 
 Now, the woman believed in no Providence, but a 
 trick got from her ancestry wrung the words from 
 her lips.
 
 The Ship 95 
 
 " My God ! My God ! " she whispered. 
 
 " You haven t any," sneered the man. " You told 
 me so yourself." He laughed. " And I believed 
 you. I would have believed anything to get you." 
 
 Well, there was no God the woman realized, but 
 she would be her own god. Her body shrank to 
 gether a little, her hands clenched. The feline was 
 uppermost. She could have sprung upon him, but 
 she waited, waited for she knew not what. 
 
 "Whom the gods destroy," ran the ancient 
 phrase, " they first make mad." 
 
 He rushed to his doom with blind folly. 
 
 " You needn t be jealous of her, my dear," he 
 mumbled on. " I used to think I loved her, and we 
 were married. Damned foolishness, as you might 
 say. She can t hold a candle to you, even if you 
 are a little touched," he tapped his forehead im 
 pudently " in the upper story." 
 
 And this man, this degraded thing, regarded her 
 as a mad woman. There might be no God, but 
 there was a devil, and he stood before her. There 
 might be no heaven, but there was a hell, and she 
 was in it. 
 
 " On second thought," he rambled on, " I couldn t 
 introduce you to her. You aren t respectable, and 
 she is." 
 
 He stopped and poured himself another drink. 
 
 "Respectable!" he laughed. "To hell with re- 
 spectability. We know a better thing than that!
 
 96 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 * Soul to soul, heart to heart, the union of equals 
 without the trammels of conventional bonds for 
 weaker beings. Yes, that s what you said." 
 
 And she recognized with horror that he was 
 quoting her own words. 
 
 " But it doesn t go, you see. It s all very well in 
 theory, but it doesn t work out in practice. The 
 world s got some ideas of its own. It s been hold 
 ing em for a good many thousands of years, and you 
 can t change em. You belong to me now. To hell 
 with your equality! You are nothing more nor less 
 than my property and, mark you," he reached out 
 a trembling finger and shook it at her " your sal 
 vation is with me. If I cast you off, you go into the 
 gutter." 
 
 She wondered vaguely how much more of this she 
 could stand and live. 
 
 " But don t be afraid," he went on with a drunken 
 attempt at reassurance, " you are too fine and too 
 handsome, even if you are cracked, for that . 
 yet. I m glad to see you ve come to your senses." 
 
 He rose heavily as he spoke and felt his way 
 around the table hand over hand. He approached 
 her. She let him do it. She shrank a little closer 
 together, every muscle tense for action. She was no 
 longer a woman; she was a human tigress, and her 
 philosophy was gone. He was too drunk to see it, 
 too incapacitated to take warning. 
 
 "That s right," he continued as he lurched nearer
 
 The Ship 97 
 
 to her. " Stay right there. I m coming to you as 
 fast as I can, and when I get close to you, we ll 
 kiss, and . . ." 
 
 He was by her side now. He straightened him 
 self up with a spasmodic effort, released his hold on 
 the table, and stretched out his arms toward her. 
 And then she sprang at him. How she did it she 
 could never tell, but in some way her outstretched 
 arms, grasping for his throat, struck him in the 
 breast. Unsteady on his feet, he went down as if 
 he had been shot. Such was the violence of his fall 
 that the momentum carried her with him. She fell 
 upon him with all her force. His head went back 
 and struck the deck with a frightful crash. She her 
 self was almost stunned by the violence of her own 
 fall, although his body broke it. 
 
 She arose and stood over him for a minute, and 
 then in her frenzy she lifted her foot and brought it 
 down upon him. He had said she was a mad woman, 
 and it was true. She was crazed by what she had 
 heard, by the horror of the situation. She had not 
 changed her dress for dinner that afternoon. She 
 was wearing a pair of light boating shoes. It was 
 lucky for him. If she had worn evening slippers 
 with high, rigid heels, she would have torn his face 
 beyond recognition. As it was, she left horrible 
 marks upon it. He lay absolutely motionless. She 
 could see that he was yet breathing and was not 
 dead. If she had had a weapon, she might have
 
 98 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 killed him in the fury and transport of her rage. 
 This wretched, wretched philosopher ! As no re 
 sistance came from him, she presently stopped, the 
 feminine in her slowly rising to the fore. 
 
 She realized now that the Irrevocable had hap 
 pened; that there was no longer room for two of 
 them on that ship. As the mists of passion cleared 
 away, although the fire of rage still burned in her 
 heart, her mind cleared also. She thought with such 
 rapidity as she had never thought before. 
 
 First she picked up a cloak, threw it about her 
 and went on deck. A cabin steward was standing at 
 the companion-way, as was always the case, waiting 
 a possible summons. She told him that his master 
 was ill and did not desire to be disturbed. He did 
 not even want the dinner things cleared away. He 
 wanted to be left entirely alone until morning. The 
 servant smiled slightly, she thought, in the light 
 from the cabin skylight. She noticed that it was a 
 moonless night, cloudy, overcast, for she could see 
 no stars. She knew what that smile meant; that the 
 man realized what sort of sickness his owner and 
 master was liable to. She bade him tell the officer 
 of the deck her message, and then dismissed him. 
 
 Then she returned to the cabin and carefully locked 
 the door. She glanced at the man as she did so. 
 He lay just as he had lain before. She bent over 
 him. He was still breathing, she noted with was it 
 regret? But she wasted no time over him. Time
 
 The Ship 99 
 
 was the most precious of all things to her at that 
 moment. 
 
 She had a clear and definite plan of action. She 
 knew exactly what she intended to do and how she 
 intended to do it. Fortunately the means of escape 
 were at hand. They had passed one or two tiny 
 islands during the day, mere treeless spots of sand 
 or coral in the vast of the ocean, but prospects that 
 others more inviting might be raised had caused the 
 man to order the power tender to be got overboard. 
 This was a good, substantial boat, fifteen feet in 
 length, broad-beamed and built for heavy seas, yet 
 powerfully engined and capable of good speed. By 
 his direction the tanks had been filled and everything 
 overhauled so that it would be in readiness for use. 
 The sea was very calm and the gentle air scarcely 
 raised a ripple on its surface. To save the trouble 
 of hoisting it aboard again the tender had been left 
 trailing astern at the end of a long line. It would 
 be ready for instant use. She would escape in that. 
 She knew how to run the motor and how to steer 
 the boat. She had done it many a time. 
 
 Carrying her heavy boat cloak, she entered her 
 cabin, hastily packed her bag with what things she 
 fancied she would need, returned to the table, took 
 from it every scrap that was edible and portable, 
 without much regard for the niceties in her hurry. 
 She made it up in a heavy parcel which she tied with 
 napkins. She remembered that the water tank in the
 
 TOO The Island of Regeneration 
 
 launch had been filled, so that for a time at least she 
 would lack nothing. Carrying bag and bundle in 
 her hands and with the boat cloak over her arm and 
 a straw hat tied on her head, after one long look at 
 the man, she turned and went aft and re-entered the 
 starboard after stateroom, her own. 
 
 The boat s painter had been affixed to the star 
 board side of the yacht. She opened the stern win 
 dow and looked out. She leaned far out and by 
 great good fortune in the darkness caught the 
 painter. The boat, of course, was swinging to a 
 long scope. She pulled at this line cautiously, al 
 though the effort taxed her strength to the utmost. 
 Indeed, she seemed possessed of a fictitious strength 
 for the time being, else she never could have ac 
 complished her hard task. But she managed to get 
 the boat practically under the overhang at last. She 
 fastened the painter to her bed, which was of brass 
 and securely screwed to the floor. Then she cut off 
 the line and tied the bundle of provisions and her 
 bag and the cloak to the end of it. These she 
 carefully lowered into the boat. Among the pretty 
 articles that she had picked up on the cruise was a 
 sharp sailor s sheath knife fastened to a lanyard. 
 She slipped this lanyard around her neck and thrust 
 the knife into her blouse. Then she climbed up on 
 the port sill and essayed the dangerous descent her 
 self. She was glad that she was a strong, athletic 
 woman, used to trusting to her own skill and powers,
 
 The Ship 101 
 
 for it was no easy task to slide down that rope and 
 get into a boat trailing along beneath the counter of 
 a yacht going perhaps twelve knots an hour. For 
 tunately the motor was well aft and the bow of the 
 launch was high out of the water, else her weight 
 would have pressed it down and the back wash from 
 the yacht would perhaps have swamped the launch. 
 
 At any rate, she succeeded, although after she got 
 her foot in the bows she slipped and fell. But that 
 she fell straight aft upon the cloak and bundles, she 
 would have hurt herself severely. If she had not 
 fallen that way, if she had pitched to the right or 
 left, she would have gone overboard, and that would 
 have been the end, for she knew that she would 
 have died rather than appeal to that ship for help. 
 She was fearful that the noise of her fall might have 
 attracted the attention of someone on the deck, but 
 the poop of the yacht was usually deserted at night 
 and it was unlikely that anyone would be up there. 
 
 Scrambling to her feet, she drew her knife and 
 severed the taut rope that held the launch to the 
 yacht. It parted instantly. She was whirled back 
 wards and sideways with a suddenness that again al 
 most threw her out of the boat. For one agoniz 
 ing moment the launch lay full in the broad beam of 
 light that proceeded from the bright cabin window 
 she had left. For one agonizing moment of sus 
 pense she hung there, and then the swirl of the wave 
 carried her into the darkness.
 
 IO2 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She lay directly in the wake of the yacht, and the 
 launch was pitched up and down by the waves made 
 by the rapidly moving ship with a violence of motion 
 that was sickening. There were a pair of oars in 
 the boat, but she did not break them out. She just 
 drew herself down in the stern sheets and lay there 
 waiting. She knew that the clatter of the motor could 
 be heard a long distance in so still a night and over 
 so still a sea, and, therefore, although her impulse 
 was to start it at once, she restrained herself and 
 waited, watching the yacht rapidly draw away. She 
 could mark her course easily by the light from that 
 cabin window. Her ear was keen and she listened 
 until she could no longer detect the beat and throb 
 of the steamer s engines. Then she rose and 
 started the motor. 
 
 The boat was provided with a compass, and al 
 though she could see no star, she was able to set a 
 course which was directly at right angles to the course 
 of the yacht. She realized, or at least she thought 
 so, that she would be pursued. She believed that 
 the yacht would retrace its course. She decided that 
 those aboard her would reason that she would en 
 deavor to put as much distance as possible between 
 herself and the yacht, and therefore she would sail 
 straight away from it. Consequently, she went broad 
 off to starboard at right angles to the other course. 
 The gasoline tanks were both full. Inasmuch as
 
 The Ship 103 
 
 the boat had been designed for extended cruising 
 in shallow waters, there was enough fuel to keep the 
 motor going for over thirty hours at full speed. The 
 motor was capable of developing at least ten knots 
 per hour. By the same time to-morrow night she 
 would be two hundred and forty miles away from 
 the present spot. The yacht was going twelve 
 knots an hour. Her escape would probably not 
 be discovered for ten hours. By that time the yacht 
 would be a hundred and twenty miles away. They 
 would be a hundred and fifty miles apart by morn 
 ing, measured on the hypotenuse, and by night 
 who could tell? At any rate, she had now done ali 
 that she could. 
 
 Her condition was desperate; her prospects gloomy 
 beyond expression. She was alone in a small power 
 boat which would be helpless, the sport of wind and 
 waves after perhaps thirty hours. That boat was 
 alone in the great expanse of the Pacific Ocean. 
 Somewhere about there were islands probably. In 
 deed, on the charts those seas were dotted with 
 points of land, but they were small, inconsiderable, 
 uninhabited, unknown. In that little boat she might 
 pass close by many of them without seeing them. 
 She had provisions, such as they were, and water 
 sufficient perhaps for a week or ten days. After 
 that, unless she landed somwhere, she would drift 
 on until she starved and died. If a storm came, the
 
 104 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 launch probably would not survive it. Her chances 
 of escape in any event were worse than problemati 
 cal. The end was almost certain. 
 
 But she was happy. The first real ray of hap 
 piness which had entered her soul since the begin 
 ning of the great awakening, which had culminated 
 in the frightful scefte of the night, illumined her 
 being. As she sat in the stern sheets, her hand on 
 the steering wheel, listening to the steady drumming 
 of the motor, seeing the black water broken into 
 foam by the boat s bows flash by her, keeping the 
 launch steady on her course by the aid of the com 
 pass needle, her eyes turned ever and anon to the 
 fast-diminishing point of light which marked the 
 rapidly disappearing yacht, and she realized that 
 she was free. She had hurled out of her path and 
 how she exulted in her own prowess; it was some 
 thing of a salve to her soul for the wretched humil 
 iations which had been heaped upon it she had 
 hurled out of her path and stricken down, as any 
 other animal might have done, him who had brought 
 her to this awful pass. She was away from him, free 
 from him. She was once more, so far as wind and 
 wave allowed, the master of her fate, the mistress 
 of her destiny. 
 
 She was glad in her heart, too, that there were 
 to be no physical consequences from her brief alli 
 ance. She did not realize that there were to be other 
 consequences which not even all the waters of the
 
 The Ship 105 
 
 seas over which she floated could wash out. There 
 was a strange elation in her soul. She felt as if in 
 some way she had vindicated her right to be. There 
 was something yet in her philosophy, and, did op 
 portunity serve, could she get free from the dangers 
 that encompassed her, she vowed that she would 
 prove it. 
 
 All night long she stayed awake, keeping the 
 launch to her course. When morning broke she was 
 absolutely alone upon the ocean. Standing erect 
 upon a seat, from her low vantage point she could 
 see nothing but smoothly undulating sea. She 
 breakfasted sparingly from her scanty store, and re 
 sumed her post at the wheel. She was tired and 
 sleepy, but while the little engine was alive she could 
 not leave it to its own devices. She must hold on her 
 chosen course so long as the motive power remained. 
 She could not lose a moment while that motor 
 throbbed and beat. She must be alive with it. There 
 would be time to sleep when it was exhausted. She 
 must put many leagues between her and pursuit by 
 holding the direct course as long as was possible. 
 
 And so she sat there grimly, hands clutching the 
 wheel, through the long day and through the longer 
 night and well into the following morning. It must 
 have been half-past ten on the morning of the second 
 day before the motor stopped. The silence, after 
 the ceaseless drumming of a night, a long day, a 
 longer night, and a still longer morning, struck her
 
 106 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 with the same strange sense of shock. She calculated 
 that the motor had been running for thirty-eight 
 hours, and that she had gone three hundred and 
 eighty miles at least on her course. She had seen 
 nothing whatever of the yacht. The chances that 
 it would pick her up, even if it came about and 
 cruised for her, a lonely speck in the ocean, were 
 millions to nothing. At any rate, she had done all 
 she could. Her philosophy for once stood her in 
 good stead. There was nothing more to be done. 
 She was dead for want of sleep. The sky had been 
 slightly overcast since she had left the yacht, but 
 there had been no storm, and weather conditions 
 looked just as they had and seemed to be permanent. 
 Taking the precaution to examine the gasoline 
 tanks and finding that indeed they had been drained 
 of the last drop, she carefully closed and locked 
 them, thereby assuring her salvation, and spreading 
 the boat cloak in the stern sheets with her bag for 
 a pillow and her straw hat tied over her face to 
 shield it from the sun, she instantly dropped to 
 sleep.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 CAST UP BY THE SEA 
 
 DAY was just breaking again when the woman 
 awoke. Reference to her watch, which she had 
 taken the precaution to wind just before she re 
 tired, disclosed the fact that it was four o clock in 
 the morning. She had slept unbrokenly since eleven 
 o clock the morning before. Pier sleep had been a 
 stupor of utter and complete exhaustion. Added to 
 the tremendous physical strain of keeping awake and 
 attending to the duty to which she had enforced her 
 self, had been the further strain of the terrible 
 events on the night in which she left the yacht, and 
 the apprehension of pursuit, which had been con 
 tinually with her. Her first motion indeed was to 
 rise to her feet and scan the horizon. With relief 
 indescribable her scrutiny discovered nothing. She 
 was still alone. Neither the yacht nor any other 
 vessel nor any smallest speck of land was silhouetted 
 against the circling skyline. 
 
 In her satisfaction she did not stop to think what 
 her loneliness, her failure to sight land or ship, might 
 mean. These possibilities were all obscured by the 
 thrill of rapture which came again to her as she 
 thought once more that she was away and still free. 
 
 107
 
 108 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 If her life were drawing to a close, if its hours were 
 numbered, at least she could spend those that re 
 mained to her in the undisturbed enjoyment of her 
 own philosophy. She had not put curiosity out of 
 her constitution, and, being a woman, she wondered 
 where the yacht was, what was happening, whether 
 the man were alive or dead. The altruistic side of 
 her nature was in abeyance. At the thought of him 
 she locked her teeth and wished the worst. Her de 
 sire was that he might suffer as he had made her 
 suffer. She shrank from the thought of his touch. 
 He had robbed her of her ideal, of her trust, of her 
 faith, of a large part of her self-confidence, of her 
 belief in her own teaching. She would have to 
 struggle to get these back. Alas, he had robbed her 
 of more than that, and the extent of her loss, being 
 what she was, thinking as she thought, she could 
 not yet realize, although there was a sub-conscious 
 ness of it beneath her other cogitations. She fought 
 it down and drove it away, but it came back again 
 and again. 
 
 What had she taken from him in exchange for 
 what he had taken from her? she asked, and the 
 answer was, nothing. Under the spell of her beauty 
 and her charm, he had assumed, whether deliberately 
 or otherwise, virtues that he did not possess, opinions 
 which he did not believe. He had no illusions about 
 the matter, and had not been bereft of a single hope 
 or aspiration. And yet she was woman enough,
 
 The Ship 109 
 
 while she raged at the thought of his possession of 
 her, to realize that his failure to hold her might 
 mean a great deal to that lower nature which had so 
 completely in a few weeks got the ascendency of 
 the man whom she had fancied that she loved. 
 
 Her whole thought of him now was concentrated 
 into intense and bitter loathing in which, in part at 
 least, she included herself. It showed the strength 
 and constancy of her feelings, the intensity of her 
 conviction, that what she had been taught and what 
 she had taught others was the truth, that all of her 
 philosophy was not blown out into the Pacific by 
 the wind of those terribly adverse circumstances. 
 
 She sat in the boat musing a long time and then 
 woke to the fact that she was hungry. Again she 
 satisfied her appetite sparingly from her scanty and 
 rapidly diminishing store of food and drink, and 
 then, putting the past resolutely behind her, hoping 
 and perhaps fancying by some exercise of her will 
 power finally she could put it behind her forever, she 
 gave serious thought to her condition. 
 
 Life was still sweet to her, the future still pre 
 sented possibilities to her inexperienced mind, and 
 she had no intention of giving up the one and aban 
 doning hope of the other without a struggle. In 
 the first place, she had only the vaguest idea of 
 where she was somewhere in the South Pacific 
 Ocean. Latitude and longitude were alike unknown 
 to her. In the first two or three weeks of the cruise,
 
 no The Island of Regeneration 
 
 when the relation between the two had been alto 
 gether lovely, she had taken deep interest in the daily 
 run. She had followed the course of the yacht day 
 by day, and had seen her position plotted on the 
 various charts of the South Seas, but in the last two 
 or three weeks in her despair she had paid no at 
 tention to anything but her misfortune, and she had 
 not now the slightest idea of her whereabouts, save 
 that she was far south of the equator in as unknown 
 waters as there were on the globe. She did remem 
 ber having heard that there were Islands in plenty 
 in these waters, and she recalled having passed sev 
 eral in the yacht, but where they were and what they 
 were she did not know. There was absolutely noth 
 ing in the boat which would give her any clew. She 
 wished now that she had not been so precipitate in 
 her flight; that the shuddering abhorrence which 
 filled her soul at the sight of the man had not so 
 moved her that her only thought had been to get 
 away, and she barely had presence of mind to bring 
 what she had in the boat with her. For she remem 
 bered that there were books on the South Seas in the 
 yacht library, and some of them contained maps and 
 much other information. 
 
 There was no use repining over the fact that she 
 did not have them, however; nor was there any use 
 in repining over her total ignorance of her where 
 abouts. She realized at last that she was in the 
 hands another would have said of God; she said
 
 The Ship in 
 
 of chance. The fact that she was so helpless; that all 
 her learning and all her training, and all her skill 
 and all her power were of no avail, made the situa 
 tion the more galling. Was there nothing that she 
 could do? She reflected deeply, and as she did so 
 the breeze sprang up. She judged that the period 
 during which she had slept had been calm and still. 
 Any violent rocking of the boat would have awak 
 ened her. Indeed, she felt bitterly cramped and stiff 
 from having lain so long on the hard floor, which 
 only the boat cloak, thick and heavy, made a toler 
 able bed. 
 
 The coming of the breeze stimulated her imagina 
 tion. It was a gentle breeze. She noticed that it 
 blew from the direction whence she had come by 
 her compass course. If she only had a sail of some 
 kind, the boat would be driven along. She must 
 move somewhere. She had heard of ocean currents 
 and drift, but she doubted whether the boat was mov 
 ing, at least sufficiently fast or in any definite direc 
 tion to make any difference. Unless she got some 
 where, she would slowly starve and die just where 
 she was. She stepped forward in the boat and ex 
 amined the oars. There was a sort of a deck 
 forward over the gasoline tanks. She thought that 
 she might make shift with the remains of the painter, 
 of which she had a good length, to fasten one of 
 the oars in an upright position against this deck. 
 There were bolts and rings of various sorts on this
 
 U2 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 forecastle. She could step the handle of the oar 
 between cleats or ribs at the bottom. At least she 
 would try. 
 
 Her training had not been manual, but she was 
 bright enough to supplement her lack of skill, and 
 after some hours of hard work she actually got one 
 oar in an upright position and securely lashed. Out 
 of the heavy cloak more a huge circular than any 
 thing else she improvised a sail with the other oar 
 as a boom thrust across the boat between the mast 
 and the little forward deck. The coat had been 
 heavily braided. She ripped the silk braid from the 
 edge, cut off the hood of the cloak, and managed a 
 triangular sail laced by the silk braid to mast and 
 boom. 
 
 The boom was immobile, and the only way she 
 could sail was straight before the wind. If the wind 
 shifted, she would shift with it. She had some 
 slight control over the vessel with the helm, but that 
 was all. It was noon when she finished her labors, 
 but she was more than satisfied with what she had 
 accomplished, for the cloak was big enough to give 
 an appreciable way to the boat. She guessed it 
 might be three or four knots an hour. That would 
 be nearly a hundred miles a day. She could eke 
 out her provisions and water for five or six days 
 longer, and she could go without for two or three 
 days after the last drop and morsel had vanished. 
 Perhaps she might run down a habitable island in
 
 The Ship 113 
 
 that time. Possibly, although this possibility was 
 more faint than the other, she might be seen by 
 some vessel and picked up. At any rate, all she 
 could do was now done. She felt better, too, because 
 she had made a human contribution to the determina 
 tion of her fate. She was no longer absolutely at 
 the play of chance or God ! 
 
 For five days she sailed steadily on, the breeze 
 remaining even and holding unvaryingly true for that 
 period. She learned the trick of lashing the wheel 
 at night, and so was able to take as much rest as her 
 tired, worn, and racked body permitted in the con 
 finement of the little boat. 
 
 She had abundance of time for thought. Time 
 was when she had reveled in such opportunities, 
 but there was less enjoyment in the chances afforded 
 her now. That she who had lived in the high realms 
 of speculation should suddenly become a woman of 
 action, fighting for life, struck her as a strange 
 thing. Insensibly the conditions of her present ex 
 istence modified her philosophy. It seemed dif 
 ferent, a smaller thing. She was less sure and less 
 confident of herself alone in the great immensity 
 than in the crowded city. There were no applaud 
 ing thousands. She breathed no air of adulation. 
 She was alone with her soul. 
 
 The man who is thus alone is always face to face 
 with God, though his eyes may be holden so that 
 he cannot see the divine. It was so with this woman.
 
 H4 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Never had she so craved other companionship. 
 She would have been happy if she could have be 
 lieved that there was a God, for had there been a 
 God she would not have felt so deserted. So she 
 fought on against her soul and her circumstances 
 a losing battle. 
 
 The sixth day opened dark and gloomy. The 
 wind had risen during the night. The day broke 
 heavily overcast. Even to her inexperience she could 
 realize that a storm was at hand. She had seen noth 
 ing during the period; that is, nothing of which she 
 could avail herself. Twice, once to the starboard 
 and another time to port, she had passed low-lying 
 islands, dim on the horizon. She had no way of 
 checking the boat or of changing its course to run 
 down either of them. She had to go on just as she 
 was. She realized that she could never land unless 
 she were driven directly upon some island that might 
 lie in her course. She knew, too, that the chances 
 that might happen were very remote. She had 
 daily diminished the portion of food and drink she al 
 lotted to herself. She had husbanded everything 
 with the utmost care. On the sixth day they were 
 gone. She awoke with a frightful craving, which 
 was greatly intensified as the day drew on. 
 
 She was thankful for one thing that the sun was 
 veiled, although the heat in the humid, heavy, over 
 cast air was something almost unbearable. Under 
 the freshening breeze the boat went much more
 
 The Ship 115 
 
 swiftly than heretofore. She had that satisfaction, 
 but she had the apprehension that if the wind grew 
 any stronger her sail, serviceable as it had proved and 
 stout as it was, would be torn to pieces. The silk 
 braid had done splendid service, but she marked 
 that it was now strained to the breaking point. Again 
 the helplessness of her position came upon her. She 
 could not take down the sail. In the first place she 
 was afraid to leave the helm, and in the second place 
 she realized that if she started to furl it, she could 
 only do it by cutting the lashing, and at the first cut 
 the whole thing would blow away. So she held on. 
 There was nothing else to do. 
 
 The night fell in a burst of rain which was most 
 grateful to her, but which was a forecast of a fiercer 
 blow, and at midnight the hurricane broke in full 
 force upon the little boat. The first blast tore the 
 sail from the lashings. By a lightning flash she 
 caught a glimpse of it for a second, whirled away 
 like a great bird. For some reason, perhaps because 
 one or two shreds of cloth still clung to the mast 
 and perhaps because the broad blade of the oar of 
 fered some surface for the thrust of the wind, she 
 was able, by the exercise of constant vigilance and 
 all the strength of which she was capable, to keep 
 the boat before the wind. Hitherto she had had no 
 idea of the violence of the wave motion. It w r as with 
 difficulty that she kept herself from being dashed to 
 pieces against the sides or hurled overboard in the
 
 n6 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 mad whirling and plunging to which the launch was 
 suddenly subjected. It was caught up by one wave 
 after another and driven on for hours. She could 
 not tell how long. She lost all consciousness of time 
 and of everything else, except that she must cling 
 to the helm. The boat was still hurled forward. 
 One great wave after another would seize her, up 
 lift her and bear her on. The strain upon the 
 woman s arms was terrific. She locked her teeth 
 and hung on, breathless, exhausted, yet determined. 
 
 But there was a limit to her powers, and she felt 
 that it had been reached. Yet she did not deliberately 
 let go. One final and terrific heave jerked her away 
 from the wheel. She fell sprawling in the bottom 
 of the boat, but had sense enough to lock her hands 
 around a thwart and lie there. The launch broached- 
 to in an instant. She was turned broadside to the 
 waves. Fortunately she did not capsize instantly, 
 and the next breaker filled her. She lay, her gun 
 wales flush with the water. Her motion was still 
 violent, but less jerky. She was swept ever onward 
 by the vast undulations. 
 
 The indomitable woman clinging to the thwart 
 managed to keep her head out of the water. She 
 realized that this was the end, and yet while she had 
 a remainder of strength, while she could draw a 
 flickering breath, she would not give up. The boat, 
 being water-logged, did not pitch so much as before,
 
 The Ship 117 
 
 and she was able to maintain her hold, although 
 every wave that broke over her drenched her again 
 and again. 
 
 She wondered why the boat did not sink, and then 
 she realized that the empty gasoline tanks which she 
 had closed and locked prevented the final catas 
 trophe;, that the boat was in a certain sense a life 
 boat; that it would float so long as the water 
 pressure did not succeed in opening the tanks. There 
 fore, she was for the moment safe. The only im 
 mediate danger would be the capsizing of the boat, 
 which would throw her out. Since the launch was al 
 ready full of water, the woman did not think this 
 was likely to happen. 
 
 She held on, her vitality gradually growing weaker, 
 hoping for the morning and an abatement of the 
 storm. She had no idea of time, of course. She 
 could not tell what the hour was. It was still dark, 
 however, when a strange sound smote her ear. She 
 heard it above the wild scream of the wind and the 
 awful beat of the waves. It was a crashing sound, 
 a battering sound, a fearful, porentous sound. The 
 boat ran forward more swiftly now. She wondered 
 the reason. Taking advantage of a brief lull, she 
 abandoned her grip on the thwart and rose to her 
 knees. Immediately in front of her she saw a white 
 wall disclosed to her by the lightning flashes. She 
 did not know what it was. The roaring sound came
 
 n8 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 from thence. She was being borne rapidly toward 
 it. She was nearing it with astonishing swiftness. 
 The boat was moving more quickly now than at any 
 time since she had been in it. At last it broke upon 
 her consciousness that the white wall was a mass 
 of foam; that the sea was crashing against some hid 
 den shore and that great breakers were there. 
 
 The land that she had longed for indeed lay 
 athwart her course. In another moment she would 
 be in that mass of boiling foam. Well, she had 
 fought a good fight. The end was at hand. With 
 some instinct of the heroic she resolved that death 
 would not find her lying down. Desperately she 
 struggled to her feet and stood balancing herself 
 to the wild onward rush of the boat. The wall of 
 foam was close at hand. For one second she threw 
 out her arms, and the next moment, with a crash 
 which she could feel if not hear, the boat beneath 
 her feet was lifted up and hurled on something fear 
 fully solid. She was thrown through the air like 
 a bolt from a catapult. A wave struck her in the 
 back and beat her almost into insensibility. She was 
 tossed and driven, half-unconscious, over a space of 
 shallow water and rolling sea upon a sandy shore. 
 Some instinct of life gave her motion. Blindly she 
 crawled on. The waves seemed suddenly to have 
 lost their power. She did not know that she had 
 been thrown past a barrier reef and carried over a
 
 The Ship 119 
 
 lagoon and dropped on a sea beach; that only the 
 most unusual and gigantic waves could reach her; 
 but she knew that they had little power to harm her. 
 And so she crept desperately and doggedly on until 
 she fell forward in the warm sand and lapsed into 
 absolute and total unconsciousness.
 
 BOOK III 
 THE REVELATION
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 LATENT PASSIONS 
 
 THE three years which had elapsed had made a 
 vast change in the relations between the man and the 
 woman. In the beginning and for a long time hers 
 had been the dominant position. So absolutely had 
 she ruled that to him she had been as a god. So 
 entirely had he obeyed that to her he had been as a 
 devotee. Once she discovered his ductility and had 
 begun to teach him, the relationships had commenced 
 to change. Gradually each had recognized the 
 humanity of the other. Together students, they had 
 naturally approached a common level. Every new 
 knowledge she imparted to him was an abdication 
 of some of her supremacy. Every new knowledge 
 he acquired was an aspiration to her high level. 
 
 Three years is a short time in the educational life 
 of a human being, but she brought to her side of 
 what was slowly developing into an equation the 
 highest training, a natural ability to impart what 
 she knew, an absolute devotion to the endeavor, and 
 an entire freedom from other interests. So fascinat 
 ing had the experiment been that she had scarcely 
 missed the rest of the world. Had he been a woman 
 
 123
 
 124 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 instead of a man, would that absorption have re 
 sulted from their intercourse? 
 
 On his part he brought to bear upon the problem 
 of learning, it was soon developed, an intellect which, 
 although entirely untrained, was unusually acute, a 
 faculty of acquiring knowledge as great as was her 
 ability to impart it, and a reasoning capacity which 
 kept pace with his other qualities. Indeed, the main 
 thing with which she had to contend at first was his 
 lack of application. But so soon as he had learned 
 enough to enable him to realize the importance of 
 learning more, she had no trouble on that score. It 
 was as if a mature mind had been confronted with 
 the hard problems of adolescence. He grappled 
 with things in that way. Whatever she taught him, 
 he learned, he mastered; all that he mastered in 
 spired him to learn more. His mnemonic ability 
 was prodigious; for all the years of his life he had 
 not been storing up the insignificant, the immaterial, 
 the unnecessary in his brain cells. He remembered 
 all that she taught him with unvarying accuracy. 
 His was a powerful, vigorous mentality which had 
 known nothing and upon which she wrote what she 
 pleased. To the judgment of a man he added the 
 receptivity and ductility of a child. 
 
 She had taught him first of all to speak and then 
 to read, then rudimentary mathematics such as he 
 could do in his head. There was nothing that she 
 could devise that was practicable for writing. There
 
 The Revelation 125 
 
 was no slate on the island, the rock was not suitable. 
 Therefore he had never learned to write, although 
 he knew what writing was, for she had explained it 
 to him, and had made shift to teach him the Arabic 
 letters. She also taught him geography, astronomy, 
 natural sciences, and, above all, history. She unfolded 
 the kingdoms of this world and the glory of them 
 before his vision, touching lightly, as has been the 
 fashion of such unfolders, upon the misery and the 
 shame. His was a singular knowledge indeed. There 
 were some things about which she was reticent, and 
 some things she could not tell him at all, being a 
 woman; but being a man, with imagination quick 
 ened, he thought of these things the more for these 
 were some of the deeper things of life, and nature! 
 
 But the change in the relations between the two 
 was not greater than the change in the woman her 
 self. She was no longer a philosopher. That which 
 she had disdained, she admired; that which she had 
 abhorred, she loved; that which she had refused, 
 she accepted. She was a Christian in belief at least. 
 Alone, or practically so, face to face with God in 
 His world, God in His Book, God in humanity, her 
 specious ideas of life and her relationship to it had 
 broken down. She had learned to kneel beside that 
 man and pray. She had learned to seek elsewhere 
 than in herself for power to enable her to live her 
 life and fulfill her tasks. 
 
 She had not wished to be a Christian- She had
 
 126 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 fought against it, struggled with it, agonized over 
 it, but a compelling necessity was upon her. The 
 convictions of her conversion tore the veil from be 
 fore her face, dispelled the mist that hung about her. 
 She saw herself as she was, a woman who, under the 
 influence of wrong ideas, false conceptions, had 
 branded herself forever. No, not in the eyes of that 
 God whom she had learned to fear, not in the eyes 
 of that Christ whom she had learned to love, but 
 in the eyes of men; yet she was a woman who was 
 pure in heart. Perhaps these thoughts and this 
 consciousness had more to do with keeping her con 
 tent even than her intense preoccupation in her man 
 and her work, for she realized what she would have 
 to face if she went back to the world which had 
 mocked her while it applauded her. That world, 
 therefore, she now began to fear. 
 
 The one being upon earth with whom she could 
 associate, who knew nothing about it, who could cast 
 no stone at her, was, she realized, the man whom she 
 had made; and this man looked to her almost as men 
 look to the divine. Yet she felt that some day he 
 would have to know. Some day she would have 
 to tell him. What then? That feeling was ever 
 with her. She constantly asked herself that question, 
 and found no answer. 
 
 Indeed, it was he who had taught her the truth 
 of Christ. At first she had not been able, she had 
 felt a strange unwillingness, if indeed it were pos-
 
 The Revelation 127 
 
 sible, to break down the lingering remains of faith 
 in that man. That babble of childish prayer had 
 in some strange way caught her heart strings. It 
 was the one memory of intelligence that had re 
 mained to him. Now that he was capable of ex 
 pression, that his mind had been born again, over 
 and over he had told her of the dim returning re 
 collection of a long voyage in an open boat with a 
 woman and some animal, which she knew must be 
 the dog. He could remember nothing of the in 
 tercourse between him and that woman except that 
 she had been good to him sometimes that is as 
 much as the wisest recall of a mother and that she 
 had taught him and made him say always that prayer 
 whose coherency and meaning, to her intense sur 
 prise, she found herself imparting to him. And she 
 could not make up her mind to take from him the 
 reality of the only recollection that remained to 
 him. 
 
 Her new belief, as has been said, was both joy 
 and sorrow to her. Save for her experience in the 
 ship, she had been happier in her philosophy. She 
 had suffered grievously through her trust in it and 
 in man, but her consciousness that she was funda 
 mentally right in her beliefs had consoled her. Now 
 to feel that she had been wrong, that she had thrown 
 away under the leading of a false light what she 
 could never regain ah, no Magdalene ever wept 
 bitterer tears at the feet of Jesus than this woman in
 
 128 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 her hours of solitude over her mistaken past, her 
 loss and shame. 
 
 She had hours of solitude, too. Early in the life 
 they lived she had laid down certain regulations. 
 He was in the formative period then and had un 
 hesitatingly acquiesced in them. So far those regula 
 tions neither had been abrogated by her nor broken 
 by him. A cave upon the farther side of the island 
 had been found, and that was his home. They break 
 fasted together at a certain hour, which he told 
 by means of the sun and she by her faithful watch. 
 The morning was spent in study. In the afternoon 
 they separated, each passing it in accordance with 
 individual preference, but he rigorously kept to his 
 side and she to her side of the island during the 
 period. Certain dividing lines, clearly established 
 and understood, marked which was his and which 
 was hers. At suppertime they met again and passed 
 the hours together in conversation until the rest 
 period arrived. Things had to be this way else life 
 would have been unendurable. They lived on the 
 natural products of the island, which were varied 
 and sufficiently abundant to fulfill all dietetic re 
 quirements. 
 
 She had also taught him things not learned from 
 books. Among them, truth, honor, duty, and 
 dignity all the virtues. Her instruction had been 
 originally ethical merely first that which was 
 natural! but afterward it had grown spiritual.
 
 The Revelation 129 
 
 Unspotted from the world he, and she washed white 
 she hoped and prayed in spite of the spots, they 
 lived a life of pristine innocence. Yet because he 
 was a man and she was a woman, strange fires 
 glowed beneath the outward calm, strange ideas and 
 desires and thoughts rose from both hearts. This 
 was inevitable. Her original relation to the man 
 had been one of so great superiority as to be fatal 
 to the early development of any feeling but the 
 maternal. Even now she possessed the superiority 
 which association with her kind, her longer training 
 and her greater opportunities, had given her. And 
 yet she could only recognize that to the impartial 
 view, considering his abilities and opportunities, he 
 stood quite on a level with her. Perhaps, had he 
 enjoyed her chances, he might have stood higher. 
 
 She began to idealize him, to dream about him, to 
 wonder. She trembled on the verge of passion. 
 She knew his to be a brilliant mind. She divined 
 his to be a knightly soul. Physically, in face and 
 figure no more splendid man, untrammeled by base 
 convention, ever stood upon the earth s surface. 
 Grace and strength mingled in a harmony that was 
 as striking as it was full of charm. She had 
 no opportunity to test his courage, for no physical 
 danger ever menaced them. But she believed 
 in his manhood thoroughly. The life they led 
 was absolutely idyllic. It was a life that might 
 have been lived in some serpentless Eden. No
 
 130 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 manifestation of the powers of nature had ever per 
 turbed him in the slightest degree, she had observed. 
 The island was sometimes visited by the most ter 
 rific storms, which were quite appalling to her, but 
 which he endured calmly. Once she had had the 
 curiosity to take his pulse during one tremendous 
 cataclysm, and its ordinary rate was not accelerated 
 by a single beat. His mind, too, was as sweet and 
 fresh as a girl s. Indeed, it could hardly be other 
 wise. Whatever was in it she had put there. No, 
 not quite that, but she had put the seed of whatever 
 was in it, and what had been developed from it had 
 been due to himself. 
 
 The woman had had bitter experience with love. 
 Following what she believed to be the highest in 
 spiration, she had wrecked her life and brought her 
 self to this pass. The revolt in her soul at the 
 thought of the man who had so degraded her, or 
 who had so taken advantage of her ignorance and 
 innocence the more complete since they were cov 
 ered by a confidence of knowledge and sophistication 
 as to allow her to degrade herself, convinced her 
 that what she had mistaken for divine light was only 
 a false fire, an ignis fatuus which had led her into the 
 marsh and slough of slime and shame. She loathed 
 the thought of that man. She had loathed, when 
 she had been thrown upon that island, the thought 
 of all men. This one had given back her confidence 
 in her kind. Yet sometimes she wondered whether
 
 The Revelation 131 
 
 that confidence were warranted or not because of 
 him. Suppose he should come in touch with the 
 world, what would happen? Was he, too, capable 
 of breaking a woman s heart? Would he do it? 
 Was hers the heart? What would the soiling touch 
 of the sordid conditions under which life was lived 
 as she had known it do for him? Would he still re 
 main unspotted? Would he think her the same? 
 She had taught him many things. But how should 
 he learn to fight temptations temptations with 
 which he had no experience, which ever came to 
 him, she fondly dreamed. 
 
 Yet she had confidence in him. She had con 
 fidence in God; and we cannot have confidence in 
 God without some confidence in man. The converse, 
 too, is true. Therefore she believed. She was con 
 fident that he would rise supreme in the face of every 
 test. She wondered if the test would ever be applied 
 to him, if she would be there to see. She found 
 herself praying for affirmation in both matters. 
 Her belief in him would only be belief founded upon 
 hope until he had been tried. There was a doubt 
 about him that must be resolved ; she must resolve it. 
 She could never be satisfied, in spite of her belief, 
 until she had done so. The very fact that she 
 thought so keenly upon the subject, that she was so 
 interested and engrossed in the situation, was evi 
 dence to her that she cared more for the man than 
 she had dreamed it possible.
 
 132 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Indeed, how could it be otherwise? The primal 
 instinct of humanity, by and through which the race 
 persists, is to mate, and love is the motive of the 
 mating if it is to be real and actual and holy. Any 
 woman under such circumstances might be expected 
 to draw toward any man ; the much more she to such 
 a man as he. 
 
 And so in her hours to herself she dreamed of him 
 and of some future, and of that great test some day 
 to be made. Alas, it was rushing toward them with 
 a swiftness beyond imagination, of which she had 
 not the faintest idea. She had often thought that 
 they might stay upon that island forever; that there 
 they might live and die. And she had had, too, 
 deeper, stranger thoughts as to what might be in 
 that contingency. Should they live forever apart? 
 Could there be no marriage between them in the 
 sight of heaven? Was life and all that it held for 
 men and women to be forever denied? What would 
 keep them apart? And yet she had trampled upon 
 convention once, with frightful consequences. Be 
 cause of that she could not do it again. She was 
 not free, but fettered by her past. She would sit, 
 not calmly, but of necessity, and arrange the future 
 and her destiny, forgetful of the fact that she was 
 no longer the sole factor of determination. She no 
 longer thought much about the yacht and the other 
 man, and yet she had wondered at first why no search 
 had been made for her. But as the days and weeks
 
 The Revelation 133 
 
 and months sped away and she remained undisturbed 
 in her new-found Elysium, she had come to regard 
 it as an accepted thing that she had dropped out of 
 existence and had been forgot. And so she loved 
 and hoped and dreamed. 
 
 And what of him? For once her intuition failed 
 her. She wanted to see him tested and tried; she 
 wanted to see him tempted and triumphant; but he 
 was all of that in those very hours in which she 
 fancied him so unthinking. It never occurred to her 
 that he might entertain an earthly passion for her. 
 She still, from ancient habit, believed herself so far 
 above him that such an ambition would have been 
 little less than sacrilege to him. She lulled herself 
 to sleep with that idea. She believed, she knew, of 
 course, that all that was needed was a suggestion 
 from her. To love is the lot of man. This man 
 had seen no other being than her. If she said the 
 word, it would be accomplished. She held the only 
 key to his heart; her hand could unlock it on the in 
 stant. She forgot the master key and the Master 
 Hand. 
 
 He had controlled that strange trembling that 
 used to take him whenever he touched her, but she 
 could feel his pulses beat and throb when by chance 
 there was any contact, even of the casual, between 
 them. Sometimes he had asked her strange ques 
 tions which she had put by, and sometimes she 
 caught him looking at her in strange ways that sent
 
 134 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the blood to her skin and sometimes turned her pale. 
 Yet she lived in the fool s Paradise. She did not 
 awake to the possibilities of that which she had made 
 him because her apprehension of him had not kept 
 pace with his apprehension of her. To her he was 
 still in some degree the creature that he had been, 
 and sometimes she thought upon her growing love 
 for him with a feeling of shame, as if it were a con 
 descension, a derogation. 
 
 She did not know what blood was leaping in the 
 veins of the man, and how he taught himself, be 
 cause she had instilled in him honor and decency and 
 Christlike self-control, to repress these things. She 
 did not know how much faster he had learned cer 
 tain things than she had intended. She did not 
 know how instinctively he had leaped to conclusions 
 which she imagined were still latent in his mind. 
 This was a good man, this was an honest man, this 
 was a gentleman, this was a Christian man. There 
 was no question about his faith. It was as simple 
 and abiding as it was sincere. The early Christians 
 who had been brought in personal touch with the 
 Master and His men were not more faithful, accept- 
 ant, and devoted. Yet this was a very human man 
 in spite of all these things, a man of splendid vigor 
 and health, with all a man s impulses, hopes, dreams, 
 and aspirations. And he loved her. 
 
 He, too, sat upon the white sands of the gemlikc 
 island and looked out into the far blue of the Pacific
 
 The Revelation 135 
 
 washing the distant shores and lands peopled with 
 strange creatures of history and romance, and he, 
 too, wondered. He had had no experience with 
 men and the world, and he longed to get away and 
 to take her away. 
 
 She had long since discovered that he was a gen 
 tleman, an innate gentleman; that he had been well 
 born, and she had seen to it herself that he had been 
 well bred. Yet no mortal man ever went through 
 greater fires of unknown and mysterious temptations 
 than he. He forced himself not to speak words 
 that burned. He checked the free course of 
 thoughts that bubbled and seethed within his brain, 
 and the relationship between them remained that of 
 mistress and man, teacher and taught, friend and 
 friend. It was he who so maintained it, though of 
 this she was unaware. 
 
 And he, too, longed for some hour to come when 
 he might with right and decency and dignity speak 
 the words which some day he must speak or die. 
 He was not versed in the ways of women. He had 
 no store of knowledge, no lesson of experience to fall 
 back upon. He knew but one woman. He could 
 not predicate from any petty maxim, or from any 
 ancient aphorism, or from any worn-out philosophy, 
 what she would or would not do under certain con 
 ditions. Indeed, he only thought that he loved her, 
 and he must tell her or die in the concealment. 
 
 And so matters ran on and on. It needed but a
 
 136 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 spark to ignite the powder, it would have seemed, 
 and yet a vast cataclysm of nature only brought 
 about the explosion. He had never touched her ex 
 cept to take her hand. Her person had been as in 
 violate to him as if she had been a star above his 
 head. And she had been careful under no circum 
 stances to allow more than that. Their hands had 
 clasped often. Indeed, with every " Good-night " 
 and " Good-morning " the circuit of touch was made 
 and broken, but that was all. They usually parted 
 at night, on the sands where she had first been 
 thrown ashore. He would stand and watch her as 
 she glided away from him in the darkness toward 
 the cave that was her home. She had impressed 
 upon him how she trusted him, the absolute assur 
 ance, the entire confidence, she had that he would 
 respect the agreement between them; and he would 
 have died rather than have transgressed the law, 
 stepped over that imaginary barrier, as potent as the 
 circle of Richelieu, which kept them apart. 
 
 And yet she would never know what horrible con 
 straint he put upon himself; how he stood with 
 clenched hands and quivering body and stared after 
 her long after she had gone. She would never know 
 how that intensity of longing grew and grew until 
 sometimes he felt that he could not overmaster it. 
 She would never know how he plunged away, stag 
 gering through the woods, and threw himself down 
 upon the sands on his side of the island, disdaining
 
 The Revelation 137 
 
 even the rude shelter of the cave which was his 
 home, and fought it out. Sometimes she saw evi 
 dences of internal conflict in his soul the next morn 
 ing. The calm serenity, the indifference, the animal- 
 like satisfaction with which he had faced life when 
 she first knew him had long since disappeared. 
 There were deepening lines upon his face which told 
 of thought, of struggle, and of character thus de 
 veloped by these two potent factors in shaping 
 human destiny. 
 
 And he could never know what was in her mind, 
 either. He never dreamed that she could love him. 
 She was so far above him, so supreme in his eyes, 
 that the possibility never occurred to him. If he 
 had known for a moment how she thought of him, 
 the great passion in both hearts would have over 
 leaped every obstacle and in a moment he would 
 have had her in his arms. Well indeed it is that the 
 power to read human hearts is reserved for the 
 Mind which towers above human passions because 
 it is divine. 
 
 And so these two, while drawing together as in 
 evitably and as irresistibly as the tide comes in, were 
 still kept apart. Their feelings were in solution, as 
 it were. A precipitant must be thrown into the at 
 mosphere in which they moved and lived and had 
 their being to disclose them to each other. 
 
 On one certain balmy summer night they parted 
 as usual. Was the handclasp longer, was the glance
 
 138 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 with which he peered at her under the moonlight 
 more self-revealing than usual? Did something in 
 his own breast call to the surface that which beat 
 around her heart? At any rate, it was with a great 
 effort that she tore herself away at last, and for the 
 first time in his life, although she knew it not, he 
 followed after her with a few noiseless steps, only to 
 stop, his face white in the moonlight, drops of sweat 
 beading his brow from the violence of his effort. 
 Having transgressed even to that degree the law, he 
 turned instantly, without waiting to watch her dis 
 appear around the jutting crag that marked the little 
 amphitheater where she slept, and went to his own 
 side of the island resolutely, without another mo 
 ment s hesitation or delay.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 HEARTS AWAKENED 
 
 FOR the moment she forgot where she was and 
 fancied herself back on the ship or, more naturally, 
 tossing about in that small boat after that long, 
 eventful voyage. Yet no motion to which she had 
 ever been subjected, not even in the wildest pitch of 
 the storm which had finally cast her away, produced 
 in her such strange emotions as she experienced then. 
 For the earth itself was trembling, quivering, rock 
 ing. The cave wall above her, seen dimly by the 
 filtering light of very early dawn which came 
 through the openings, partook of the mad, fantastic 
 motion. In another second she realized that it was 
 an earthquake. The air seemed filled with a 
 peculiar ringing sound of storm. 
 
 Her bed, of course, was the soft sand over which 
 grass had been strewn. She lay, therefore, on the 
 floor and could not be thrown down, but she was 
 rolled from side to side in a way which paralyzed 
 her senses. Never in all her experience had she 
 known such a sick feeling of terror. When the 
 foundations of things are shaken, when not merely 
 the great deep but the solid earth is broken up, 
 humanity stands as if in the very presence of God. 
 
 139
 
 140 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She lay resistless, staring, praying, wondering 
 whether the shaking rock over her head would fall 
 and crush her. 
 
 In a moment the instinct of life quickened her to 
 action. She rose to her knees, staggered to her feet 
 and tried to make her way to the entrance. Walk 
 ing was terrible. The earth seemed to have shaken 
 for hours, and yet the duration of the shock was 
 really less than a minute. Its violence was terrific. 
 Just before she reached the opening, it stopped with 
 one tremendous shock, as suddenly as it had begun. 
 The next second, with a roar that sounded in her 
 ears like a thousand pieces of artillery, the gray, 
 hazy light in front of her was blotted out by a fall 
 ing mass of rock which just escaped her. The face 
 of the cliff had given away. In deeper, intenser 
 terror than before she threw herself against the 
 barrier. It was as hard and as unyielding as the 
 other walls. No light came to her even. She was 
 imprisoned alive in this rocky sepulcher. She sank 
 down on her knees and buried her face in her hands. 
 She murmured words of prayer. 
 
 Her mind flew to the other side of the island, to 
 the Man. Was he, too, entombed? Was this the 
 end of her labors? Outside she could hear the wind 
 roar and the waves thundering with awful violence 
 on the shore. Before the earthquake, had come the 
 storm. There was still some connection between
 
 The Revelation 141 
 
 the cave and the outer air, it seemed, for she was 
 now conscious of lightning flashes. After the storm, 
 came the fire. Her mind went back to what she had 
 read from the Bible a few days before of Elijah s 
 despair. Therefore in like case she listened with 
 all her heart for the still small voice of comfort to 
 her awestruck soul. It did not seem to come. She 
 was doomed; she would never see him again, if in 
 deed he were yet alive. She knew her feeling for 
 him now. She slipped forward and fell fainting on 
 the sandy floor of the cave. And still the voice was 
 there. Presently it came to her as the voice of God 
 usually comes to humanity, through the lips of man. 
 After a space, how long after she could not tell, 
 she was conscious of a human cry through the wild 
 clamor of the tempest. A voice that she knew and 
 loved was calling her by name. Was it some wraith- 
 like fancy of the storm? She rose to her knees, sick 
 and faint, and listened. No, it was a human voice, 
 his voice, her name. The cry was fraught with frantic 
 appeal. It thrilled and vibrated with passion. It told 
 her even in that awful moment a story which she 
 had not read. It revealed to her imaginations of 
 which she had not dreamed. She was fascinated 
 with what she heard. She forgot for the moment 
 to answer. All the woman in her, the eternal 
 feminine in her, listened. Her bosom rose and fell, 
 her heart throbbed, her pulses beat. Alone with that
 
 142 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 wild, passionate, appealing, frantic cry, she forgot 
 the earthquake, she forgot the prison, she forgot the 
 storm, she forgot the world. She only realized that 
 there out in the dawn, a man, the man of all the 
 world, who loved her, was calling her name. The 
 old call of manhood to womanhood, of mate to 
 mate. 
 
 She rose instantly to her feet. This time it was 
 the beating of her heart that pitched and tossed her 
 body. She leaned against the rock wall and then 
 she called his name. 
 
 " Man," she cried, "are you safe?" 
 
 " Yes," was the answer. " And you? " 
 
 " Entirely so, save for this prison." 
 Thank God ! " came faintly to her from beyond 
 the wall. " Thank God, I hear your voice. I shall 
 have you out, never fear." 
 
 She pressed her ear close to the heap of huge 
 loose stones which filled the opening. She could 
 hear him working outside. 
 
 " Don t be afraid," he said at last. 
 
 " I fear nothing," she answered, " if you are 
 there." 
 
 In one instant the situations of life had been re 
 versed. He was the master now, and she hung upon 
 his words and actions even as he had done on hers 
 in days gone by. 
 
 She had no knowledge of what task was before 
 him, but she could hear the progress that he was
 
 The Revelation 143 
 
 making. It was evident that he was working furi 
 ously, and yet he stopped once in every little while 
 to reassure himself as to her presence. 
 
 "Woman," he cried, "are you still there?" 
 
 " Here and waiting," was the answer. 
 
 He needed that assurance of her safety to enable 
 him to achieve his prodigious task. How terrible 
 were the efforts he put forth, she did not know until 
 afterward, but his was the work of a Titan. He 
 was moving mountains with his bare hands. In 
 spired by love, mightiest of passions, he was tearing 
 asunder, like the earthquake, the rocky foundations 
 of the world. Well for him that he was so thewed 
 and sinewed. Well for her that God had added 
 strength and power and energy to all his other 
 splendid qualities. He had never done any work in 
 his life harder than the climbing of a tree, but no 
 toiler with a heritage of earth s whole long experi 
 ence of labor could have struggled as did he. 
 
 He had been awakened at the selfsame instant in 
 his lonely cell upon the other side of the island. 
 With the first shock he remembered that some time 
 in his days of darkness before she came there had 
 been a similar upheaval. He realized instantly 
 what it was. Less timorous than the woman, more 
 agile, he did not lie supine for a single second. His 
 thoughts were instantly for her. He had thrown 
 himself from his cave and had raced across the shak 
 ing, quivering island without the hesitation of a
 
 144 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 moment. Never so long as he might live would he 
 forget the shock that came to him when he saw his 
 way to her barred by that great heap of rock fallen 
 from the face of the cliff which lay over the en 
 trance to the cave. For one moment he had stood 
 appalled, and then he had got to work. How much 
 time had elapsed before he arrived at her door, how 
 much time it took him to clear it away, he had no 
 idea. He had no thought but that he must open a 
 passage and get to her, dead or alive. 
 
 It was not wise for him to expend breath in cries, 
 but until he had some reply he could not keep silent. 
 After that, when her answer came to him, he worked 
 more quietly save for those periods when he felt that 
 he must hear her voice to enable him to go on. 
 Such was the furious energy of his toil that by and 
 by the great mass of rock was cleared away save one 
 huge boulder which fairly blocked the entrance. It 
 was light outside now. A gray dawn and full of 
 storm. Through the wider interstices she could see 
 him plainly. She knew now that her rescue was only 
 a matter of time. A branch of a tree for a lever, 
 and his strength would roll the rock away. She 
 started to tell him, but he caught a glimpse of her 
 white face pressed against a crevice, and the sight 
 inspired him. With a great burst of strength, the 
 like of which possibly had never been compassed by 
 mortal man since Samson pulled apart the pillars of 
 the temple, he rolled the great rock aside and stood
 
 The Revelation 145 
 
 in the entrance, gasping, panting, with outstretched 
 arms. 
 
 But a step divided them. That step she took. 
 With a sob of relief she fell upon his breast, natu 
 rally, inevitably. His splendid arms swept her close 
 to him. Her own hands met about his neck. With 
 upturned face she looked upon him in all the 
 abandonment of perfect, passionate surrender. He 
 bent his head and kissed her, the first time in all his 
 years that his lips had been pressed upon another 
 mouth. He clung to her there in that kiss as if to 
 make up in one moment for all the neglected pos 
 sibilities of the past, as if never in all the bringings 
 forth of the future should such another opportunity 
 be afforded him. He felt for the first time in his 
 life the beat of another human heart against his own, 
 the rise and fall of another human breast, the throb 
 bing of another human soul. Tighter and tighter 
 his arms strained her to him. She gave herself up 
 in that mad, delirious, awful moment to the full flow 
 of long-checked passion and, kiss for kiss, pressure 
 for pressure, and heart beat for heart beat, she made 
 response. 
 
 It was too much. It was the man who broke 
 away. There was nothing, no experience, no re 
 membrance to teach him. It was all surprise. He 
 thrust her from him slowly. Her hands lingered 
 about his neck, but his backward pressure would not 
 be denied. He held her at arm s length, her hands
 
 140 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 outstretched to him, her bosom panting, her eyes 
 shining, her cheeks aflame in the gray dawn. Yield 
 ing, giving up to him absolutely, yet something, the 
 magnificent mettle of the man, the restraints through 
 which he had gone, the long battle with his own 
 passion, rose to his soul and gave him mastery once 
 more. 
 
 " Woman ! woman ! " he whispered no mere 
 local name would represent her now, she was human 
 ity to him "Woman," he whispered, " My God! 
 my God!" 
 
 He turned away, sank down on one of the great 
 boulders that he had thrown aside and buried his 
 face in his hands, his body shaking with emotions 
 he could scarce define but well understand. The 
 woman threw herself down on her knees before him 
 and took him once more in her arms. 
 
 "Man," she said, "I love you!" 
 
 She drew his hands away from his face; she laid 
 her own face in his bleeding palm and kissed it. 
 
 " Man," she said, her lips wet with his own blood 
 in a sort of wild, barbaric sacrament, " man, I love 
 you ! " 
 
 He stared at her as one distraught. He had 
 dreamed of this, he had imagined it, he had prayed 
 for it, he had hoped for it, but no revelation that 
 had come to him in the years of their association 
 equaled in its blinding brilliancy, in its intense illu 
 mination, the revelation in that woman s voice, in 
 that woman s eyes, in that woman s touch.
 
 The Revelation 147 
 
 " Man," she said again, " I love you. Do you 
 understand? Do you know what it means? " 
 
 Then he found voice. He took her hand and 
 pressed it against his heart. 
 
 " I know," he whispered. " I understand, here." 
 
 He rose to his feet, stooped, caught her by the 
 shoulders and lifted her to his level. A piece of 
 rock ill balanced on the edge of the cliff fell crash 
 ing. The place was dangerous. Without a word 
 he slipped his arm beneath her, lifted her up as he 
 might have done a child and carried her out upon 
 the sand away from the beetling crags of the rocky 
 wall. 
 
 She nestled in his arms with a sense of joy 
 and satisfaction and helplessness cared for so ex 
 quisite that it was almost pain. He sat her down 
 presently on a rounded boulder and turned away a 
 moment, striving to control himself. Unable to 
 deny himself, he bent over her, his hand on her 
 shoulder. The sunlight sprang through the gray 
 haze on the horizon s edge and lighted her face as 
 she lifted it up to him. She stretched out her arm 
 to draw him to her. Suddenly he broke away and 
 threw himself prostrate before her and laid his lips 
 upon her feet. 
 
 " Not there," she whispered, laying her hand upon 
 his bent head, " but here, here in my arms, upon my 
 heart, for Man, Man, I love you I " 
 
 Then kneeling by her side he took her once more 
 within his arms.
 
 148 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " But you have not said," she began at last, " that 
 you loved me." 
 
 " There is no word," he said softly, " in that 
 speech that you have taught me which is equal to 
 what I feel. You don t know how I have looked upon 
 you and longed for you ever since you made me 
 know and feel that I was a man with a man s soul. 
 Night after night I have watched you as you went 
 to your nook in the rocks. But that you have taught 
 me honor and consideration, what it is to be a gen 
 tleman, I had followed you and caught you in the 
 dark within my arms." 
 
 She laid her hand upon his breast and looked at 
 him feelingly, entreatingly, with touching conscious 
 ness of his strength and her weakness. 
 
 : What I have taught you," she asked, " you will 
 not forget?" 
 
 "Never! Never!" 
 
 He released her waist and took her hand and 
 kissed it. There was as much passion in the pres 
 sure of his lips upon her hand as there was in the 
 beat of his heart against her own she felt. 
 
 You," he continued, "will say what is to be 
 done." 
 
 "Not I," she answered piteously, "but you. I 
 have no strength when you are by. Since that mo 
 ment when you kissed me, you are the master and 
 the man, but you will respect me in my helpless 
 ness?"
 
 The Revelation 149 
 
 "As if you were God in heaven," cried the man, 
 raising his hand as one who makes a vow. " You 
 are to me everything that is pure, that is holy, that is 
 lovely." 
 
 " No ! No ! " she whispered, a look of terror 
 coming into her face. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "Through you I know God, 
 through you I know woman. You are sacred to me. 
 Never again, unless you give me leave, will I press 
 my lips to yours; never again, unless you say I may, 
 will I take you in my arms; never again will I even 
 touch your hand. Indeed, indeed, I cannot do these 
 things. And yet I will love you in ways of which 
 you cannot dream so long as I can draw the breath 
 of life." 
 
 He rose to his feet as he spoke and turned away 
 from her and stood with clasped hands and bowed 
 shoulders. In one moment the whole course of their 
 lives had changed. It had taken an earthquake 
 shock to do it, but so terrific had been the submerged 
 fires of mutual passion that a whisper opportunely 
 uttered would have effected the same revolution. 
 She sat and watched him, wondering what would 
 be the end of it. She knew at last what love was, 
 not the pale, philosophic emotion she had experi 
 enced in the cabin of that yacht. God, how she 
 hated that recollection! How she wished that it 
 had never been. If untouched by man she could 
 have been cast upon that island to be given to this
 
 150 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 man who looked upon her as a goddess. She had 
 told him some of her history, but not the part which 
 was vital. It had been easy not to enlighten him 
 wholly as to that. He knew nothing about condi 
 tions. He had never seen a ship or a boat within 
 his recollection, and the story she had settled upon 
 and told him was one that received instant accept 
 ance from him. Indeed there was nothing that she 
 had told him or could have told him that he would 
 not implicitly have accepted and believed. The queen 
 could do no wrong. She was incarnate truth. And 
 she would have to tell him all now. She would have 
 to put into that pure soul, alive with passionate de 
 votion, admiration, respect every feeling that can 
 make up the sum of mighty love ! this story of evil 
 and shame. There was no help for it. She would 
 have to tell him. 
 
 But she could not tell him now, not on this day. 
 She would have a few perfect hours. She would 
 stand for a little while within the vales of Eden. 
 She would look for a little time through the gates 
 of heaven. To-morrow! To-day she would have 
 and she would enjoy it to the full. She rose softly to 
 her feet at last and stepped closer to him. She laid 
 her hand upon his shoulder. She could see the 
 muscles in his arms tighten as he clenched his hands 
 the harder. She turned him gently about and lifted 
 her perfect lips to his. She kissed him again. Her 
 hand sought his; her fingers parted his iron grasp.
 
 The Revelation IJJI 
 
 She drew his arm about her and nestled against 
 him. 
 
 " I trust you," she said, " as I love you. I shall 
 be safe with you. You shall not draw away from 
 me in such isolation. You have waited long for 
 kisses like these." 
 
 And then the man spoke, the man in him. 
 
 "Woman," he said, "yours are the only lips that 
 nave been pressed upon mine, save perhaps my 
 mother s as a child. Has any other man ever kissed 
 you?" 
 
 She could not lie to him. 
 
 " Don t ask me," she said the futile request! 
 
 The man had turned away with a groan. No 
 happiness is unalloyed; no joy comes into our lives 
 that some pain does not dog its footsteps. With 
 love came jealousy before the flood, and many 
 waters have not washed it out. 
 
 " At least," she said, pressing closer to him, and 
 he did not repulse her, " I have loved no man but 
 you." 
 
 " Oh ! " he said, taking her once more within his 
 arms, " that I might know for one moment what s 
 out there, how you lived, who saw you, who fol 
 lowed you, who loved you ! " 
 
 " I shall tell you," said the woman. 
 
 " But you have told me." 
 
 " Not all." 
 
 "When the rest, then?"
 
 152 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 "To-morrow. Meanwhile let us enjoy the day," 
 the old, old human prayer, let us enjoy the day 
 despite the morrow, "let it suffice that I love you; 
 that I never loved anyone else; that no kisses like to 
 yours have ever been pressed upon my lips no, I 
 believe, not upon the lips of mortal woman. Let us 
 pass the day in happiness together. Come, we must 
 breakfast. We must see what the earthquake has 
 done to our island. We have things to think about, 
 things to do." 
 
 " I have nothing to think about but you; nothing 
 to do but to love you." 
 
 Hand in hand, they stepped across the sand to the 
 shade of the trees, a royal and a noble couple, the 
 splendid woman nobly planned, fit mate for the god 
 like man, children of God and Nature, both of them 
 in loose tunics which she had woven from the long 
 soft grass, which left neck and arms bare and fell to 
 knee and were belted in at the waist. Unhampered 
 by any of the debasing or degrading garments of 
 civilization, they were a pair to excite the admiration 
 and arouse the envy of the gods.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE CONSCIENCE QUICKENED 
 
 THEY had spent the morning together, but not 
 as usual. Things were different, conditions had 
 changed. For the first time in years the daily lesson 
 which she had given him was intermitted. To-day 
 they were both at school, with Love for preceptor 
 and such willingness in their hearts as made them 
 ideal pupils. The storm which had accompanied the 
 earthquake had died away as suddenly as it had 
 arisen. No visible evidence of it was left save the 
 tremendous thunder of the long undulating seas upon 
 the outward barrier. The earthquake had not 
 greatly damaged the island; the fallen cliff, a few 
 prostrate palms here and there, that was all. But 
 there was visible evidence in them of the storm 
 through which they had passed and which still held 
 them in its throes in the tumult of their souls. 
 
 To the man the experience of the morning was 
 absolutely new, and to the woman it was so different 
 from what had hitherto transpired that it was prac 
 tically so. They luxuriated in their emotions. 
 They sat side by side, hand in hand; they walked to 
 gether, hand in hand. Yet it was the woman who 
 was the bolder, the woman who made the advances. 
 
 is?
 
 154 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 The man was not passive. Kiss for kiss, look for 
 look, word for word, touch for touch, he gave, but 
 the initiative was hers, not his. He was putting a 
 constraint of steel upon himself. She saw that and 
 was glad. It made her bold. Womanlike she tried 
 and tested the blade that she had forged again and 
 again, growing daring in her immunity, braver in 
 her trust. 
 
 The experience to him was a torture of such sur 
 passing sweetness that he could have cried aloud 
 with the exquisite pain of it. She was glad when 
 she divined something of what was going on in his 
 soul. He was proving his worth to her. When 
 memory forced the recollection of another upon her, 
 she contrasted the conduct of the present with the 
 conduct of the past. She contrasted the actions and 
 characteristics of this, what the world would call, 
 half-naked savage, with the brutal vulgarity of the 
 fine specimen of modern civilization with which she 
 had gone away. And even in her shame at the recol 
 lection she exulted. This was indeed a man. When 
 the great passion did come in full flood into her 
 heart, she loved, she realized, worthily. 
 
 And was she worthy of him? Aye, but for that, 
 worthy of any man. She was too clear-headed to 
 convict herself of moral obliquity, but there was in 
 her a sense and it had never been so keen and so 
 powerful and so penetrating as at this moment when 
 sbe loved of nersonal pollution, under which, by
 
 The Revelation 155 
 
 hard fortune, little of the blame being hers, she had 
 to suffer. She luxuriated in her consciousness of his 
 qualities, in his love for her, in her love for him; 
 but as he suffered, so, too, did she. His suffering 
 was of the present, hers was of the past. Which is 
 the worse, the more unendurable, is a question to 
 which no solution is apparent. Yet hers was the 
 harder case in the particular instance, for hers was 
 filled with shame and dread, and his was only begot 
 by a prayer that he might not forget his manhood. 
 
 They stood, in one part of their wanderings, be 
 fore the door of what had been her cave. Hand in 
 hand they looked down upon the heap of rocks that 
 he had torn away. It was nothing to him; to her it 
 was incredible. She could better estimate what 
 human strength was capable of than he. She had 
 standards of comparison which he lacked. 
 
 " It cannot be possible that you lifted that boulder, 
 and that one, alone?" she said, gazing at him won- 
 deringly. 
 
 " At that moment I could have torn the rock 
 asunder to release you ! " he cried, throwing out his 
 arms in a magnificent gesture of strength and force. 
 
 She caught his hand with her own and once more 
 pressed her lips within his palm. 
 
 " I don t know how to say how much I love you ! " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 " Say that you will try to care as much for me as 
 I for you, and I shall be content," he answered.
 
 156 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 And so there was a pretty rivalry between them 
 as to which loved the more. In the midst of the 
 strife of tongues, the woman spoke. She could not 
 keep away from the subject. 
 
 " You love me," she said at last, " because you 
 think me more than I am, because," she ran on in 
 spite of his protesting gesture, checking his denying 
 word, " because you have seen no other woman, be 
 cause . . ." 
 
 " I will not hear another word! " he cried, finding 
 voice at last and stopping her. " I know not woman 
 or man save as I know you and myself, save as you 
 have taught me by the women of whom you have 
 read to me in that single book we have, the women 
 of whom you have told me who have played their 
 parts in the world. All of them together are not 
 like you." 
 
 "That is because I am alive and here, and they 
 are dead and away." 
 
 " If they all stood here by me on the sand, if all 
 their excellencies and virtues were centered upon one, 
 and she stood by you on the sand, my heart would 
 turn to you. It isn t because you are beautiful you 
 are beautiful, are you not?" 
 
 Poor man, he had no standards of comparison, 
 only the instinct for the lovely. 
 
 " Men said so," she answered, smiling at him and 
 blushing in confusion. 
 
 " Men ! " he cried. " What men ? "
 
 The Revelation 
 
 " I will tell you to-morrow." 
 
 She sighed deeply at the thought of the revela 
 tion. 
 
 " Well, then," he continued, " it isn t because you 
 are beautiful, or because you are wise, or because 
 you are learned, or because you are kind; it is be 
 cause you are yourself that I love you." 
 
 " And if I were none of these things?" 
 
 " I would love you just the same." 
 
 " But I am not what you think me ... in 
 some ways," she protested. 
 
 "I could never think highly enough of you; I 
 know that." 
 
 " No, no, it isn t that. When I tell you. . . ." 
 
 She stopped and looked at him, paling. After 
 all the greater test was to come then. "To err," 
 she remembered the ancient Latin proverb, "was 
 human; to forgive divine." Would he be human or 
 divine in this trial? Had she so trained him that 
 he could forgive the unforgivable? In more ways 
 than one her happiness depended upon what would 
 be his course. If he forgave her and condoned her 
 fault, their love could have free course if ever 
 opportunity for benison upon it presented. But 
 if he followed the common course of men, not only 
 would any future union between them on the only 
 terms to which she could consent be impossible, but 
 he would kill her heart, her trust in man some 
 times, she wildly believed, her trust in God.
 
 158 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 "Nothing, nothing," he repeated, "that you could 
 tell me would make any difference." 
 
 So lovers have protested, she recalled, since time 
 and the world began. And yet things told have 
 made differences. What would it do for their 
 future, this revelation of the morrow? 
 
 And again she realized that the test, if she herself 
 were compelled to make it, would be not exactly 
 fair, for she would be at once prosecuting attorney, 
 advocate for the defense, even in some phase the 
 passer of judgment. She would be the criminal and 
 the v/orld to him. It would hardly be possible for 
 him to arrive at a correct view and come to a deter 
 mination unbiased and free. If she could have 
 transported him by some magic power among the 
 children of men, and with them for auditory have 
 told her story, the test would be a true one. What 
 he would do then, after having heard the world s 
 voices, the world s appeals, the world s mockeries, 
 would truly determine what he was, and in no other 
 way could that determination be arrived at. Though 
 she strove to be as impartial as divinity, she could 
 not but make her defense coincident with her revela 
 tion, her justification at the same time with her con 
 demnation. He knew nothing of life but what she 
 and instinct had taught him, and neither would be 
 safe guides in this emergency. He could protest and 
 she could believe his protests, but unless they were
 
 The Revelation 
 
 uttered not merely before high heaven but before 
 surrounding men, they would be of little value. 
 
 She put this by resolutely at last. We are the 
 creatures of circumstance and environment. She 
 would have to do the best that she could on the 
 morrow. Meanwhile she would, as she had said, 
 enjoy the day. And so the morning hours wore 
 away until the time came for the customary parting. 
 At first she would have abandoned, in the luxury of 
 the new passion or the new revelation of the old 
 passion, the customary rule, but she still preserved 
 some lingering remains of her common sense, and 
 she clearly perceived that it was necessary to go on 
 as they had. Society cannot proceed without its 
 conventions, and these simple regulations were their 
 conventions which had to be obeyed. And so they 
 parted as usual. But they parted as they had never 
 parted before, torn asunder by their own compli 
 ance with their own petty rules, their hearts pro 
 testing. 
 
 Long before the earthquake they had erected on 
 the topmost hill of the island a huge pile of dead 
 wood from the groves beneath. She had lighted 
 fires with her flint and steel for him from time to 
 time to teach him what they were. She had even 
 managed to cook some of the vegetable growths of 
 the island, as well as the eggs of the turtle, oysters, 
 and mussels which they could gather from the rocks
 
 160 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 at low tide. And she had taught him strange 
 whimsy! to eat of these things on occasion with 
 the use of salt with a sort of dim anticipation that 
 some day he might come into the land of cooked 
 food and of flesh food and find the power capable 
 of development and useful. 
 
 She had taught him all sorts of little refinements 
 and niceties of civilization. Pie had an accurate 
 idea of a fork, although he had never seen one. He 
 knew that to eat with a knife was a thing to be 
 avoided, although he knew no knife except the 
 sailor s sheath knife which she still wore at her 
 waist. A dainty person, she had taught him dainti 
 ness just as she had taught him to comb his hair. 
 Indeed, she had done that first herself, marveling 
 at the brilliant golden curls that adorned his head. 
 She had taught him to trim his beard and to care 
 for his person, smiling the while to find how much 
 more inherent daintiness and nicety and refinement 
 are than, as some would have us believe, only exter 
 nal acquirements of civilization. He had had les 
 sons in manners and etiquette, this half-naked sav 
 age. Indeed, the time had been all too short for 
 what she would have him learn. But she had gone 
 about it systematically, persistently, and given days 
 and days without break to her task, and the results 
 were wonderful. 
 
 When they had parted she had suggested to him 
 and it was significant that now it was a sugges-
 
 The Revelation 161 
 
 tion; yesterday it would have been a command > 
 that he should take time to ascend the hill and re 
 arrange the great heap of wood which they had 
 builcled. During all the time that had elapsed since 
 she had been there no sail had whitened the horizon, 
 no curl of smoke had betokened the distant passing 
 of a steamer. But no spot of the globe could for 
 ever remain unvisited, she thought, and some day 
 that pile of wood might make a beacon light to call 
 civilization to them. He was glad to comply with 
 her suggestion, glad for occupation, and so he 
 promised and went his way. 
 
 When he had disappeared, she turned the edge 
 of the cliff in the secluded amphitheater where her 
 cave fronted the ocean. She threw aside her tunic 
 of woven grass and plunged into the cool, delightful 
 pool, which fortunately the earthquake had not dis 
 turbed. Her clothes, the scanty garments she had 
 improvised from her underclothing, had long since 
 worn out. It had not been difficult, however, to 
 plait of certain pliable rushes which grew in plenty 
 upon the island the loose and shapeless garments 
 they both wore. She had used strips torn from 
 what had remained of her clothing for binding and 
 edging, and practice had made her dexterous and 
 skillful in the rude weaving. She still preserved, 
 however, the blouse and skirt of serge, her only pair 
 of stockings, and the canvas boating shoes. Some 
 times in idle moments she tried those shoes on.
 
 162 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Fortunately for her they were loose and easy. Go 
 ing barefoot these years had enlarged her small and 
 slender feet to something like those human and pro 
 per proportions which, from the standpoint of nature 
 at least, had greatly enhanced their beauty. She 
 kept these clothes, she hardly knew why; perhaps, for 
 one reason, since she had been able to weave the 
 wattled garment so well suited to her needs she 
 had no use for them; perhaps against the day of the 
 arrival of other civilization than her own. 
 
 Greatly refreshed by her bath and it shows her 
 absolute confidence in him and his worth that inter 
 ruption never occurred to her; it had never come and 
 therefore it never would she resumed her tunic and 
 walked toward the cave. The tide was very low. 
 The sands terminated on one side in a rocky ledge 
 where a long arm of the lagoon ran to the foot of 
 the cliff. The cliff had been tremendously shaken 
 apparently, and she noticed just above the water line 
 a narrow opening. She had thought from noises 
 during storms that there was a hidden cave in the 
 cliff with an opening under water. She had imag 
 ined that possibly she could enter it by diving, 
 but she had never cared to make the attempt, al 
 though by this time she had become as much at 
 home in the water or under it as if she had been 
 native to the South Seas. Sometimes in the morning 
 they swam in the lagoon together, oftentimes she
 
 The Revelation 163 
 
 swam alone. It was a great pleasure to her, and a 
 necessity as well in that low latitude. 
 
 Curiosity induced her to inspect more closely this 
 opening near the water s edge. Again throwing 
 aside her garment, she plunged into the arm of the 
 sea and swam boldly toward the cliff. There was 
 just room enough between the water level and the 
 top of the opening for her head. She found herself 
 in a straight passageway perhaps eight or ten feet 
 long and as many wide. Cautiously she swam 
 through it and discovered herself in an immense 
 cave. Light filtered through the opening, and one 
 or two fissures had been opened here and there by 
 the earthquake or by some convulsion of nature be 
 fore, through the rocky wall, invisible on the face 
 of the cliff from the outside but quite distinct within. 
 There was even a stretch of sandy beach on one 
 side. She swam to it, clambered upon it, and sat 
 down to rest. 
 
 Here was an excellent haven of refuge, instinc 
 tively occurred to her, although a refuge from what 
 she scarcely knew. Except at the very lowest of the 
 ebb the entrance would be covered, and even then 
 it would take a curious and familiar eye to discover 
 the entrance or to imagine it anything more than a 
 deep rift in the face of the sea wall. At any other 
 hour the entrance would be invisible, and even at low 
 tide, if the wind blew from the sea, which it gener-
 
 164 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 ally did, the breaking waves would cover the en 
 trance completely. Off to one side, quite accessible 
 from the sand strip which rose sufficiently high to 
 afford full shelter above the high water mark, a little 
 stream plunged down the cliff. She tasted the water 
 and found it fresh and sweet. All that one would 
 lack would be food and the hiding place could be 
 occupied indefinitely. 
 
 She stayed in the cave some little time, and when 
 she finally decided to return to the outer world she 
 discovered that the tide had turned and that the en 
 trance was now completely under water. This gave 
 her no disquiet. Light still came from the outside 
 to mark the way. She had acqujred the faculty of 
 swimming beneath the surface with her eyes open, 
 and the distance was short. She dove into it con 
 fidently and presently emerged in the lagoon outside. 
 It was the one place on the island, so far as she had 
 discovered she had always thought there was a cave 
 there, but had never been able to verify her knowl 
 edge which provided her with a shelter absolutely 
 secure and inaccessible, as she believed. She had no 
 less trust in her man than she had before, bu* the 
 knowledge gave her a strange comfort. 
 
 When she met him that night she did not impart 
 her secret to him. Whatever happened now, she 
 had a place of refuge, she realized, and she was glad. 
 It was a gorgeous golden night in the South Pacific. 
 They wandered and played and loved together under
 
 The Revelation 165 
 
 the tropic moon and stars in the gemlike island. 
 Yet when they parted each was unaccountably sad; 
 she because of what she must tell him on the morrow, 
 and he because of what he had begun to fancy ho 
 must hear. 
 
 There were more things to happen on that mor 
 row than either she in her philosophy or he in his in 
 experience could have dreamed of when they kissed 
 again at parting and together said good-night
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE SHIP ON THE HORIZON 
 
 YESTERDAY morning she had been awakened by an 
 earthquake. To-day it was the call of a voice, his 
 voice. Besides hers there was none other on the 
 island. It came to her through the open entrance. 
 By turning her head she could see the bright expanse 
 of sand and sea and sky beyond. Yet no figure 
 darkened that rift in the cave wall. He stood out 
 of sight, but within hearing, calling her name. She 
 rose to her feet, gathered the tunic about her waist 
 by a cincture of plaited grass, mechanically thrust 
 the knife within a rude sheath she had made for it, 
 and stepped out upon the sand. She had a sudden 
 premonition that something unusual had happened, 
 for never before had he ventured to come to the 
 cave and thus awaken her. The change in their re 
 lations might have moved him to this extraordinary 
 course, yet she did not believe that it had. She 
 found him in a great state of excitement. As she 
 cleared the entrance, he ran toward her waving his 
 hands. 
 
 " There is something, 1 * he cried, his voice thrilling 
 with new and strange emotions, " on the other side 
 of the island I " 
 
 166
 
 The Revelation 167 
 
 " Is it something of enough importance," she said 
 softly, laying her hand upon his shoulder, " to keep 
 you from kissing me good-morning? " 
 
 Evidently whatever it was, it was not, she thought 
 for a happy moment as he swept her to his breast at 
 once. That had been his first instinct, that had been 
 his burning desire the night long. To have her in 
 his arms was his constant thought; but he was new 
 to lover s ways, unused to lover s customs, and, be 
 sides, he had sworn that the advances must come 
 from her. But once the advance was made, the 
 signal was displayed, the permission was given, he 
 more than did his part. Pressing back her head he 
 fed his fill upon her lips. No, not that, he could 
 never do that; but he kissed her long, and for the 
 moment forgot what he had come to tell. It was 
 she who first remembered. 
 
 " And what is it," she asked, " on the other side 
 of the island?" 
 
 " I forgot it for the moment," he answered pas 
 sionately, " as I forget everything with you in my 
 
 arms." 
 
 She laughed at this bold assertion. 
 You love," she said, " as if you had been taught 
 to do it from the beginning." 
 
 " The sight of you, your touch, the air that hangs 
 about your person, they have taught me, and I am 
 only beginning now to show you how much I love 
 you."
 
 1 68 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " If this be the beginning," she laughed, " what 
 will be the end?" 
 
 " There is no end," he replied, laughing in his 
 turn. 
 
 " But you came here to tell me something else." 
 
 " When I started from the other side of the island, 
 it seemed the greatest thing that I could tell, but 
 since I have seen you . . ." 
 
 " Man, Man," she cried with pleasant impatience, 
 " what is it that you saw? " 
 
 " I think it is a ship," he answered with sudden 
 gravity. 
 
 " A ship ! " she exclaimed in wild amaze. 
 
 She laid her hand upon her heart and sank down 
 upon a near-by boulder. If his words were true, 
 what would it mean to them both? 
 
 " I have never seen a ship, but there is a dark ob 
 ject out yonder," he pointed across the island toward 
 the farther horizon, " too far away for me to dis 
 tinguish what it is, but smoke rises from it." 
 
 "Let us go!" 
 
 She rose to her feet and extended her hand. He 
 took it and they began to run. They ran as often 
 as they walked except in the greater heat of mid-day. 
 Lithe, free-limbed, lightly clad, deep-chested and 
 strong, in this emergency they headed straight across 
 the hill instead of taking the longer way around the 
 .sands. The distance was not great. There was a 
 sort of rude path which they had made and often
 
 The Revelation 169 
 
 traversed, and in a few moments they stood, panting 
 a little, for they had been unusually speedy and 
 eager, on the top of the hill. 
 
 " There 1 " cried the man, pointing to seaward. 
 
 His eyesight was better than hers, but hers was 
 still sufficiently keen, as she followed his outstretched 
 arm and extended finger, to see upon the far horizon 
 a dark object which was undoubtedly a ship. A 
 hazy column of smoke elongated behind it and told 
 her that it was a steamer. 
 
 " You are right," she said at last, a little sob in 
 her voice, " it is a ship. It means rescue. The 
 world is coming to our shores." 
 
 " My world is here," he returned, laying his hand 
 upon her shoulder, and for answer she drew closer* 
 to him, glad to feel his clasp about her waist. 
 
 She had time to think how singularly like the lan 
 guage of convention was the language of nature. It 
 was what any other man who loved would have said 
 and in the same way. 
 
 " That ship is passing by," he went on. " When 
 I saw it as I woke this morning, it was there. It 
 goes rapidly." 
 
 " Yes," she said, " it passes by." 
 
 " I care not," he interrupted. " I don t want any 
 thing else or anybody else. Now that I have you, 
 I am content here." 
 
 " But we shall summon it and bring it back," she 
 went on resolutely.
 
 170 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 "How? " he asked curiously. 
 
 " By lighting the beacon yonder." 
 
 " I forgot that." 
 
 " But I did not. Go back to the cave and bring 
 the flint and steel. You will find them in the silver 
 box on the shelf by the Bible; and make haste." 
 
 " I will go the quicker," he said, turning from 
 her, " that I may be the sooner back with you." 
 
 He turned and bounded away like a young deer. 
 She watched him through the trees and then sat 
 down upon the summit of the hill and stared toward 
 the ship. She was glad, of course, that they were 
 to be rescued, but as in the joy of her love there 
 was sorrow, so in her gladness there was apprehen 
 sion. That test of which she had dreamed the night 
 before was now to be made complete. She would 
 postpone the telling of her story until he could hear 
 in comment upon it the voice of the world. 
 
 They had lived in Eden, Eden without a serpent. 
 They had plucked the tree of knowledge at will and 
 no consequences evil had ensued; nevertheless they 
 must go out into the world now, the world with its 
 pains, its toils and frets, the world with its mockeries 
 and scorns, and take up the appointed life of men. 
 He loved her now there could not be any doubt 
 about that but what would he do when he knew, 
 and when he knew that the world knew, as well 
 what she had thought, what she had been, and what 
 she had done? Alas, when that ship s boat touched
 
 The Revelation 171 
 
 the shores of their island to take them away from 
 that paradise, the angel of the flaming sword would 
 always guard the entrance and prevent their return 
 ing to it. 
 
 She was a brave woman. She could face the in 
 evitable with courage, with a philosophy which now 
 at last was Christian. She had had three peaceful 
 years and a day of such happiness as falls to the lot 
 of few of the children of sorrow. Perhaps that was 
 all that she was destined to look back upon of joy. 
 Perhaps the future held for her only expiation. 
 Perhaps she ought not to rebel against that pos 
 sibility. She ought to be glad of such an oppor 
 tunity indeed. But she was a woman, and by and 
 by she hid her face in her hands and wept. 
 
 In all their intercourse he had rarely seen her 
 weep. Tears were almost foreign to his experience. 
 He knew what sorrow was, what sadness was, what 
 sympathy was, for his heart had been torn when she 
 had read to him the story of the Man of Sorrows 
 and His sufferings. A child of nature, the pathetic 
 in the Old Covenant and the New had appealed to 
 him profoundly, but his were not easy tears. He 
 had never shed any. He had only once or twice seen 
 any. He was appalled, therefore, when approaching 
 noiselessly he laid his hand upon her shoulder and 
 saw and heard the evidence of her grief. He dropped 
 the box to the sod and knelt beside her. 
 
 "Has the sight of that ship made you weep? *
 
 172 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 he said softly. " I wish that I had never come to 
 tell you it was there ! " 
 
 "We have been so happy together, you and I," 
 said the woman. " This island has been my world, 
 my haven, my heaven, rather, and you have been 
 humanity to me, but now the earth opens before 
 you. You will have other interests, other hopes, 
 other ambitions, perhaps. . . ." 
 
 " Don t say it," protested the man vehemently. 
 " I shall have nothing, nothing but you anywhere, 
 everywhere, and, besides, nothing is changed. See, 
 the smoke grows fainter, the ship more dim. She 
 passes beyond. Things shall be as they were 1 Here 
 we shall live and love on ! " 
 
 Her desolation, her sorrow, appealed to him pro 
 foundly. He took her in his arms. He laid her 
 head gently upon his shoulder. There was protec 
 tion and tenderness as well as passion in his touch. 
 
 "Together," he whispered, patting her hair 
 softly, "alone, you and I, forever!" 
 
 For one delicious moment, with closed eyes, she 
 let herself be so soothed and comforted. But her 
 better nature woke on the instant as it were. 
 
 " No," she said, drawing away from him gently, 
 "it would not be right. We belong in the world 
 of men. Men and women are not men and women 
 until they have lived among their fellows, until they 
 have fought down the temptations of which we know 
 nothing here, and have conquered them . . .
 
 The Revelation 175 
 
 out there. Give me the flint and steel. I must call 
 back the ship ! " 
 
 He stooped as she spoke and picked up the little 
 silver box. He extended his hand toward her and 
 then suddenly drew it back. 
 
 * You cannot light the beacon," he said. 
 
 " Cannot ! " she cried. 
 
 "No, for I will not give you the flint and steel." 
 
 " You must give it to me." 
 
 " I will not. I am the stronger and you cannot 
 take it from me," he returned with growing firmness. 
 
 It was the first time in all their intercourse that: 
 he had disobeyed a command. She looked at him 
 amazed, her heart nevertheless throbbing at the mas 
 tery in his tone, at the thought that he was willing 
 to throw away the world for her. It is true he had 
 had no experience of that he was giving up, but he 
 was not entirely ignorant of the possibility, for she 
 had told him of what lay beyond the horizon, and 
 she had presented it in such a way that it glowed 
 with color and life and charm. The evil, the sordid, 
 and the wretched had been lightly alluded to, just 
 definitely enough to shade the picture and bring out 
 the higher lights of civilization. His was not the 
 decision, therefore, of an untutored, inexperienced 
 savage, not the abandonment of a toy by a child; 
 there was some reality in it, and the reality measured 
 his affection. Her heart leaped in her breast at that 
 For one fleeting moment she acquiesced*
 
 174 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Things would go on in the old way. But things 
 could not go on in the old way. For a day and a 
 night, in spite of the great change that had come to 
 their feelings, life had flowed on as usual, but there 
 was a limit to human power. It was better, what 
 ever betide, that they should go back to civilization. 
 The woman stared at him long, earnestly, her lip 
 trembling, her face pale, her eyes shining. They 
 stood speechless at gaze for a moment, and then 
 she spoke. 
 
 " You are right," she said, " my power over you 
 has gone. I can no longer command. Mine has 
 ceased to be the supreme will, but I beg you, I en 
 treat you, I pray you, give me the flint and steel. 
 See, on my knees I ask you ! " 
 
 She sank down before him in an attitude which 
 he knew to be that of prayer. They had often read 
 the sacred Scriptures and had said their prayers to 
 gether on the sand or beneath the trees since she, 
 too, in the solitude had seen God and believed. 
 
 " I cannot. I will not," he answered hoarsely, 
 stepping nearer to her. 
 
 " No," she said, " you must not touch me, you 
 shall not touch me. I shall be to you as a stranger, 
 unless you take me by force, if you will not let me 
 light that beacon." 
 
 "No," said the man doggedly. "When the 
 world touches our shores, it brings you unhappiness. 
 Let it pass."
 
 The Revelation 175 
 
 " Listen ! " she said. " I have tried to tell you 
 something about honor and duty. My honor says 
 that that ship must be called. My duty bids me call 
 her. You have said that you love me." 
 
 " Said ! " exclaimed the man. 
 
 You do love me, then," returned the woman, 
 
 " and I you, but that love must be tested, tried in the 
 
 world. I can never believe in it, in you, until the 
 
 trial has been made. We must call back the ship ! " 
 
 " But I can believe in you without any test." 
 
 " I am different. I have been out there. I know 
 what it is. I have seen other men." 
 
 She looked fixedly at him. He bent closer to her 
 and laid his hand upon her shoulder, not this time 
 in caress. She winced from the tightness of his 
 grasp, the fierce intensity of his clutch, yet she did 
 not draw away and he was not conscious of the force 
 he used. 
 
 You have seen other men. They have loved 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes," she forced herself to reply. 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I have loved no man but you." 
 
 " You had something to tell me. You were to 
 tell me to-day." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Was it about some other man ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What was it?"
 
 176 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " I will tell you when we have gone back where 
 men and women live." 
 
 "Why not now?" 
 
 "You must hear the voice of the world in com 
 ment upon what I say." 
 
 " But if we do not go back? " 
 
 " There will be a secret between us which I will 
 carry to my grave. It would be fatal to our happi 
 ness. You see we must call back the ship. Give 
 me the flint and steel, for God s sake, if you love me, 
 Man!" 
 
 She had never adjured him in that fashion before. 
 He stood irresolute a moment and dropped the box 
 at her feet. She had conquered, conquered by ap 
 pealing to his love for her. Nothing else, she felt, 
 would have moved him. 
 
 Eagerly she opened the silver box and took thence 
 the tiny implements. Fortunately they were in the 
 heart of the dry season. To strike a spark was easy, 
 to communicate it to the tinderlike brushwood was 
 easier still. In a moment, catching the inflammable 
 wood dried out by the tropic sun, the flames roared 
 through the great mass. The cliff or peak at the top 
 of the island made a background for the flame, and 
 soon a pillar of fire twenty or thirty feet high leaped 
 and curled up into the still air of the morning. 
 
 The woman beckoned. The two ran around the 
 peak of the rock until they were sheltered from the
 
 The Revelation 177 
 
 fierce heat of the fire. From where they stood they 
 could see the ship. 
 
 " Do you think," asked the man, " that the people 
 on the ship will see the flame?" 
 
 " They cannot fail to do so." 
 
 "And how will they regard it?" 
 
 "As a signal." 
 
 "And what will they do?" 
 
 " Turn about and head for the island." 
 
 " And how can we tell what they are doing? " 
 
 " When the smoke ceases to elongate," she replied, 
 " it will show us that they have turned and are head 
 ing this way." 
 
 There was little breeze, apparently, and the smoke 
 would follow the wake of the ship. They watched 
 the little speck on the horizon with strained intensity 
 for a few moments. 
 
 "How if she passes on? " asked the man at last. 
 
 " I shall take it as a sign," said the woman slowly, 
 "that . . . Look! " she cried with sudden emo 
 tion. 
 
 The ship had turned and the cloud of smoke now 
 rose straight above her in the quiet air. 
 
 ; They have seen the signal," went on the woman. 
 * They will come here. We shall be taken away ! " 
 
 " It is your fault," said the man grimly. " I 
 wanted nothing but to be alone with you."
 
 BOOK IV 
 THE COMING OF THE WORLD 
 
 ,1 nad trailed astern of the 
 
 c weather. Such was his physi- 
 
 when he was not unconscious, he 
 
 181
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE LONG SEARCH 
 
 MR. VALENTINE ARTHUR LANGFORD was wearily 
 pacing the quarterdeck of his magnificent yacht, the 
 Southern Cross. Mr. Langford was an intensely 
 disappointed and embittered man. He had made 
 two ventures which, by a stretch of language in one 
 case at least, could be called matrimonial, and 
 both of them had resulted in diaster. Death op 
 portunely had relieved him of one wife; the other, 
 who had stood in the place of the former without 
 the legal ceremony or the spiritual benediction, had 
 vanished under circumstances so mysterious that he 
 had no idea whether she was alive or dead. On a 
 certain night some three years ago he had a dim re 
 membrance that he had behaved like a brute to a 
 woman. His remembrance was only dim as to de 
 tails. It was entirely clear as to the fact. 
 
 What had happened as a result of his conduct, he 
 could not definitely state. The next morning the 
 crew had found him lying insensible on the cabin 
 floor with a fractured skull. The woman was gone, 
 also the power boat which had trailed astern of the 
 yacht in the pleasant weather. Such was his physi 
 cal condition that when he was not unconscious, he 
 
 181
 
 1 82 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 was delirious. He had been unable to give any 
 coherent account of affairs, and equally unable to 
 give any directions as to the future movements of the 
 yacht, which had been bound nowhere in particular 
 upon a pleasure cruise. 
 
 The old sailing-master and captain, much dis 
 tressed by the accident and the emergency in which 
 he found himself suddenly plunged, decided that his 
 best course, in fact his only course, was to get back 
 to civilization and a doctor as soon as possible. He 
 had instantly put the yacht about and headed for the 
 nearest land where he might hope to get suitable care 
 for his terribly ill young employer. He pushed the 
 yacht to the utmost of her speed and in three weeks 
 dropped anchor in Honolulu just in time to save the 
 young man s life. Indeed, for a long time it was 
 touch and go as to whether his life could be saved at 
 all, and it was not until nearly a year had elapsed 
 before the Southern Cross sailed for San Francisco 
 with a weak and shaky but convalescing owner on 
 her quarterdeck. 
 
 The departure of Katharine Brenton with Valen 
 tine Langford had made a great sensation, but it was 
 nothing to the sensation which raged when it became 
 known that Valentine Langford had returned with 
 out her. She was a woman of too much importance, 
 she had played too large a part in the affairs of the 
 world, civilization had manifested too much interest 
 in her, to allow her to drop out of its sight without
 
 The Coming of the World 183 
 
 at least making an effort to find her. The position 
 of Mr. Valentine Langford became interestingly 
 difficult in the face of a storm of inquiry. Mr. 
 Langford s previous marriage was, unfortunately for 
 him, unknown, but the world had had so complete 
 and adequate an idea of the terms of the union which 
 had been entered upon so blithely between Langford 
 and Miss Brenton that the first question that met 
 him when he came back alone was as to which one 
 had repented. Had the woman come to her senses,. 
 had the man grown tired of her, had they parted, 
 and where was the woman? These were the queries 
 which were put to him with the direct simplicity of 
 the American public through its imperious represen 
 tatives, the reporters. And to these questions Mr. 
 Langford could return no adequate answer whatever 
 except the truth, which he could not bring himself to 
 tell. He declared that she had left the yacht in the 
 South Seas, that he did not know her present where 
 abouts, and refused to say anything further privately 
 or in public. Miss Brenton had no near relations; 
 what was everybody s business was nobody s, and 
 presently public interest in her declined. She and 
 her philosophy were practically forgotten by all but 
 Langford himself. 
 
 Fortune, which had done him some evil turns, 
 here, however, interposed to his advantage. The 
 lady who legally bore his name departed this life 
 and left him a free man. Brute though he had been.
 
 184 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Langford was not without some strong ideas of honor 
 and decency. Indeed, he had enjoyed long and undis 
 turbed hours for meditation upon his sins of omis 
 sion and commission during his period of convales 
 cence, and the calm consideration of his character 
 and previous career had done him good. At heart, 
 in spite of his brutal conduct, for which drink had 
 largely been responsible, he was a gentleman, and 
 capable of things fine and high under the stimulus 
 of some really great emotion. He had come to real 
 ize, to put it mildly, what an utter fool he had been, 
 to say nothing of his villainy. What had led him 
 to this realization had been the remembrance of the 
 hours he had passed with Katharine Brenton before 
 the clouds had arisen which had culminated in that 
 awful storm, the recollection of which fairly made 
 him shudder. However he had deceived her by pro 
 fessed adherence to her wild theories and impossible 
 philosophies, he had honestly loved her, and associa 
 tion with her had been of benefit to him. If he only 
 had not given away to his temper and his appetite ! 
 If it had not been for his former obligation ! 
 
 He had married his wife in a moment of boyish 
 infatuation. The union had been impossible almost 
 from the first. She was little more than an adven 
 turess, much older than he, w r ho had entrapped him 
 for his money. There had been a separation on a 
 liberal financial basis, to which the woman had 
 readily, even cheerfully, agreed, and he had no lin-
 
 The Coming of the World 185 
 
 gering remains of affection to hold him back. Her 
 death was only a relief to him. He felt that he 
 owed reparation to Katharine Brenton, and he was 
 the more willing to pay the debt because he was 
 honestly and genuinely in love with her so far as a 
 man of his temperament could be in love with a 
 woman. He wanted to make amends for his treat 
 ment. He would have given anything he possessed 
 to have been able to say to her how ashamed he was 
 of all that he had done, and to beg her to forgive 
 him and marry him. 
 
 She had vanished, however, from under the sun, 
 and he no more than the rest of the world knew her 
 whereabouts. He did not believe that she was dead 
 because he did not wish to believe it, perhaps, and 
 he would not believe that she was dead until he had 
 some positive evidence of it. He had figured out 
 the chances many times; he had discussed them pro 
 and con with the veteran seaman who commanded 
 his ship, and he was able shrewdly enough to fore 
 cast to a certain extent her movements. He knew 
 that she would run the boat as fast and as far as the 
 gasoline would carry her and then she would drift. 
 He believed that with the empty gasoline tanks for 
 ward and aft the boat was practically unsinkable. 
 It was possible that she could have drifted upon 
 some island. She might be alive in the South Seas 
 somewhere at that hour. 
 
 The death of his father and the necessity for the
 
 1 86 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 administration of the vast interests of the bonanza 
 king s estate prevented him from at once engaging 
 upon the search which he promised himself he would 
 make, but he expedited matters, sometimes to his 
 own loss, as rapidly as he could, and after nearly a 
 year s stay in San Francisco he found himself in 
 position to undertake his quest. For a year there 
 after he and the Southern Cross traversed the unex 
 plored, unvisited waters of the South Seas. He had 
 landed upon island after island which he had exam 
 ined with minute particularity. Some he had found 
 inhabited by natives whom, through interpreters he 
 had procured, he questioned unavailingly. He ran 
 across stray vessels trading among the islands, and 
 through them, with constantly increasing, ever-wid 
 ening mediums, he carried on his search, but without 
 results. In thus sweeping the Pacific he had visited 
 everything that was charted and all that he could 
 find that was not, and was now homeward bound, 
 convinced that the launch must have foundered and 
 that he would never solve the mystery of her disap 
 pearance. 
 
 So assiduously had he prosecuted his search that 
 the crew of the Southern Cross, who knew little 
 as to the cause of his eagerness, with the exception 
 of the shipmaster, looked upon him as a harmless 
 visionary. They had been away so long and had 
 visited so many islands with so much hardship, often 
 times with so much danger from uncharted reefs in
 
 The Coming of the World 187 
 
 the unknown seas, that they were one and all wildly 
 anxious to return from the, to them, aimless wander 
 ing. If he had communicated to them at the first 
 his quest, they would have shared his eagerness, but 
 he kept it to himself as he had kept his own counsel 
 in San Francisco, and he straitly charged his sailing- 
 master to say nothing of it. 
 
 Consequently the lookout on the fore-topmast 
 crosstrees on a certain summer morning, catching 
 sight of a dim, blue haze on the horizon far off to 
 starboard, made no report of it. What was the 
 use? It would only delay matters, and they were 
 within a few weeks of Honolulu now, and another 
 fortnight beyond Hawaii would bring them back to 
 the United States, for which they all longed with 
 the desire of men who had been away from home 
 and confined to the narrow decks of a cruising ship 
 for over a year. 
 
 Something as to whether it was Providence or 
 not he was somewhat doubtful in his mind after 
 ward brought Langford on deck hours before his 
 usual time for rising. The watch was in charge of 
 a rather sleepy, stupid second officer, unimaginative 
 and unobservant. He had not noticed the land, 
 which it was difficult to see from the deck at any 
 rate, especially as it did not lie between the yacht and 
 the sun, and as it had not been reported from the 
 masthead, he knew nothing of it. 
 
 Langford had found sleep impossible. The year
 
 1 88 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 of search, the constant disappointment, the press 
 ing sense of mystery, the feeling that his conduct was 
 indeed irreparable, had preyed upon him. He was 
 thin, worn, nervous and irritable. He walked up 
 and down the deck in the cool of the morning, think 
 ing. For three years practically he had had this 
 woman before his eyes as the goal of his efforts. 
 Now she was gone and he must concentrate his life 
 upon something else. He gazed languidly and in 
 differently about the horizon, his unpractised eye 
 noticing nothing for a time. Suddenly, however, 
 staring off to starboard listlessly during a pause in 
 his steady tramp, he thought he caught a glimpse of 
 light. He looked idly in the direction whence the 
 reflection had come for a few moments and saw it 
 again; a thin cloud of smoke, or was it haze, rose 
 above it. He was puzzled by it, of course, and 
 stood staring. The concentration in his gaze, he 
 thought, discovered to him a cloudy blink in the 
 gray of the dawn which might mean land. He knew 
 there was no land charted in those seas, for he had 
 carefully studied the chart the night before, saying 
 nothing to anyone, as he had become somewhat sen 
 sitive about the matter. 
 
 He ran down the companion ladder into his cabin 
 and fetched thence a new and powerful glass which, 
 upon his return to the deck, he focussed upon the 
 distant point of light. By the aid of these wonder 
 ful binoculars he made out what it was. He was a
 
 The Coming of the World 189 
 
 man of quick decision and purpose. He called the 
 officer to him, pointed to the light, and handed the 
 jglass to the man with the question: 
 
 "What do you make of that, Mr. Holtzman?" 
 
 The officer took a quick look through the glasses, 
 handed them back to their owner, and said laconi 
 cally: 
 
 " Land ! Fire ! Smoke, sir." 
 
 "Head the yacht to that island at once." 
 
 Very good, sir," said the officer, turning to the 
 man at the wheel and ordering the helm to be put 
 aport. 
 
 The yacht s bows swung slowly round until the 
 island and the light were both dead ahead. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Holtzman," said Langford when the 
 maneuver was completed, "who is at the mast 
 head?" 
 
 " I ll see, sir," answered the second officer, step 
 ping forward. 
 
 " Bring him to me," said the owner as the officer 
 turned away. 
 
 In a few moments the officer came back to the 
 quarterdeck followed by one of the seamen. The 
 man looked very much frightened, for Langford was 
 in a towering passion, and when he was in a pas 
 sion he was not a pleasant spectacle. 
 
 "Did you see that island yonder?" began the 
 />wner fiercely. 
 
 " I er " 
 
 L . . Cl . . . .
 
 190 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " Answer me ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the man desperately. 
 
 "You did?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Why didn t you report it?" 
 
 The man hesitated, shifted from one foot to an 
 other, muttered something about a wild-goose chase. 
 Carried away by anger, Langford sprang at him and 
 would have done him bodily violence had he not 
 been quickly restrained by the second officer. 
 
 " Mr. Langford, sir," cried Holtzman, grasping 
 him tightly, " recover yourself, sir." 
 
 The check was sufficient. 
 
 " Get forward! " cried Langford, controlling him 
 self with difficulty. " Mr. Holtzman, send for Cap 
 tain Harper." 
 
 " Very good, sir," answered the officer. 
 
 " And meanwhile you are to keep straight for 
 that island until further orders." 
 
 In a few moments the old captain presented him 
 self before the owner. 
 
 "Harper," began the young man imperiously, 
 " the lookout this morning deliberately failed to re 
 port that land, that island yonder. I want him 
 disrated and his pay stopped. Put him in the 
 brig and set him ashore at the first civilized 
 port." 
 
 Very well, sir," said the old sailing-master, not 
 daring to remonstrate under such circumstances.
 
 The Coming of the World 191 
 
 "Do you know that island?" continued Lang- 
 ford. 
 
 " No, sir," answered Harper. " It s not set down 
 in any chart. I have never heard of it before." 
 
 " Harper," said the other, laying his hand upon 
 the old man s arm, " it is our last chance. We are 
 passing out of the region of these islands. If she be 
 not there, we shall never find her." 
 
 " I am afraid not, sir." 
 
 " I have an idea that our quest is going to be suc 
 cessful this morning," returned Langford, eagerness 
 flushing his thin face. 
 
 " I hope so, sir," answered the other. "There is 
 somebody on the island evidently, for they have 
 lighted a fire. It should be a signal. It might be 
 savages of some kind." 
 
 " It s not likely. Why should they signal a ship? 
 And how should there be savages on a lonely island 
 like this five hundred miles away from any other 
 land? You may depend upon it, captain, tis some 
 castaway who wants help, and why not she? In 
 deed, I am sure it must be." 
 
 Something of the man s confidence infected the old 
 sailor. He took up the glass from where it lay on 
 the cabin skylight and going forward studied the 
 island. 
 
 " It s one of those volcanic islands, I take it," he 
 said as he came back. " It seems to be covered with 
 trees. There is a hill rising from the midst of it.
 
 192 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 The fire is on the top. There should be an en 
 circling reef round about it and deep water up to the 
 very barrier." 
 
 "Could you see anything else?" 
 
 " No, sir. No glass would reveal anything more 
 than that at this distance. Try for yourself, Mr. 
 Langford." 
 
 He handed the binoculars to the owner, but his 
 own scrutiny revealed nothing more than the cap 
 tain had told him. 
 
 "How are we going now?" he said, looking over 
 the side. 
 
 "About eight, I should judge, sir," answered 
 Harper. 
 
 " Let us have full speed until we get nearer." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 The captain turned and spoke a word to the sec 
 ond officer, who signaled to the engine room, and in 
 a few moments the motion of the great vessel through 
 the water was perceptibly accelerated. 
 
 " Have you had your breakfast, Mr. Langford? " 
 asked the captain at last. 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 " Then if you ll allow me, sir, I think you would 
 better get it. We won t be within landing distance 
 of that island for an hour or an hour and a half. 
 In fact, we ll presently have to slow down. I don t 
 like to dash in full tilt so near land through these
 
 The Coming of the World 193 
 
 unknown waters, and you will do well, sir, to go be 
 low and get a bite to eat." 
 
 Your advice is good," said Langford, turning 
 away and entering the cabin. 
 
 Never had man less appetite than he. Somehow, 
 he could not tell why, he felt certain that this, which 
 would be his last attempt, would not prove fruit 
 less; that his search, hitherto unavailing, would now 
 be rewarded. He took time to re-examine the chart 
 of those seas. It was quite possible, he thought, for 
 the woman to have made that particular island be 
 fore them from the point at which she had left the 
 ship. The more he studied it, the more sure he be 
 came. At last he forced himself to break his fast, 
 but in a short time he was on deck once more. 
 
 The island was perceptibly nearer. Captain Har 
 per was forward staring through the glass. Run 
 ning along the waist, Langford joined him on the 
 forecastle. 
 
 "Can you make out anything?" said the young 
 man, catching the old one by the arm. 
 
 "Aye," was the answer. 
 
 "Is she there?" he asked hoarsely, his heart in 
 his mouth. 
 
 " There is a figure on the weather side of the fire 
 yonder." 
 
 " A figure ! " asked Langford, trembling so he 
 could scarcely control himself. "Is it a woman?"
 
 194 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " I can t tell. It s too far off." 
 
 " Give me the glass." 
 
 " I make out another figure. There are two of 
 them," returned Harper, slowly lowering the glass 
 and handing it to Langford. 
 
 Two ! " cried the other, rapidly focussing the 
 glass, disappointment in his tone which he strove to 
 keep out of his heart. "You are right," he said at 
 last, " there are two figures there, but tis impossible 
 to make them out." 
 
 He handed the glass back to the captain, who in 
 his turn fixed it again upon the island. 
 
 " They are going down the hill," said Harper. " I 
 have lost them among the trees." " We are ap 
 proaching swiftly," he continued. " Mr. Holtzman, 
 half speed, if you please." 
 
 Bells jangled below as Mr. Holtzman rapidly set 
 the indicator, and the speed of the yacht was quickly 
 checked. She still approached the island with suffi 
 cient rapidity, however, and after perhaps fifteen 
 minutes of easy going Captain Harper signaled her 
 to stop, fearful of any nearer approach. 
 
 "What now? " asked the owner. 
 
 " I think we better not chance it nearer, sir," 
 said the captain. " It isn t more than a half mile to 
 the shore. Shall I call away the launch, or will you 
 be rowed? "
 
 The Coming of the World 195 
 
 The launch was stowed amidships; the gig swung 
 from the davits. It would be quicker to take the 
 
 gig- 
 
 " I ll be rowed," said Langford. 
 
 And in a moment the voice of the boatswain s mate 
 could be heard calling away the crew. All hands were 
 now on deck. The conversations between the cap 
 tain and the owner had been heard by many and 
 their tenor communicated to all. Consequently when 
 the gig, manned by six of the best oarsmen in the 
 ship, dropped alongside and Langford descended to 
 the stern sheets and took the tiller in his hand, the 
 crew spontaneously manned the rail and sent him off 
 with three ringing cheers. 
 
 It did not take the men long to cover the distance 
 between the motionless ship and the island. As they 
 approached the latter, they perceived the barrier 
 reef, which, unless they could find an opening, would 
 effectually prevent their getting on the shore. Lang- 
 ford swung the boat about at a judicious distance 
 from the reef over which the sea always broke with 
 more or less force, and closely scrutinized the line 
 of foam. The coxswain of the boat, who rowed the 
 stroke oar, also followed with his eyes the jagged 
 reef. It was he who detected the two figures on the 
 beach of the island waving palm branches and ap 
 parently pointing. He called the attention of Lang-
 
 196 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 ford to the figures, and suggested that the inhabit 
 ants were trying to show an opening through the 
 barrier. 
 
 Following the indicated direction, presently smooth 
 water was discovered. Langford headed the boat 
 for it. The men bent to their oars and soon parted 
 the quiet waters of the lagoon. The two figures 
 stood in plain view upon the beach still too far for 
 those in the boat to make out who or what they were. 
 Langford could only see that one was taller than the 
 other; that both were dressed in some sort of loose 
 tunics that fell to the knee and left the arms bare. 
 He was disappointed, but yet hopeful. The suspense 
 was almost unbearable. The men were doing their 
 utmost, seeing the anxiety in his face, but their ut 
 most was too slow for the impatient man.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 PAST AND PRESENT 
 
 " How long do you think it will be before they will 
 be here?" asked the man after they had sat silent 
 on the hill to windward of the fire watching the 
 trail of smoke. 
 
 " I should think that it would be perhaps an hour 
 or a little more. Why?" she returned after a mo 
 ment s pause. "Are you so anxious to have them 
 here?" 
 
 For the life of her she could not keep the bitter 
 ness out of her question. The man looked at her 
 in surprise. She had never lost her temper before 
 him in the years they had been together. There had 
 been something singularly simple, free, and unre 
 strained in their life. Nothing had ever occurred 
 to vex her, at least not after the man had known 
 enough to notice it. She was a woman of sunny, 
 even temper under any circumstances, and she had 
 felt it incumbent upon her to be as nearly perfect as 
 possible since she represented humanity to him, nor 
 had it been a difficult task for her to be gentle. This 
 flash of resentment, therefore, struck him as some 
 thing entirely novel. In his amazement for a mo 
 ment he forgot the injustice of it, the unkindness of 
 
 197
 
 198 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 it. He looked at her strangely and said to her with 
 a little touch of severity: 
 
 " You know that it is not that, Woman." 
 
 He had no terms of endearment. He had never 
 heard the words that lovers use, and although he 
 knew that her name was Katharine and he be 
 lieved that his was John, and though sometimes they 
 made use of these names, generally they called each 
 other by the broad generic terms which stood for 
 sex. Names are only for differentiation and iden 
 tification in any event, and here was no need for such 
 appellations. She loved to call him " Man," and 
 she loved to hear him call her " Woman." 
 
 "You know," he said, "that tis not I who have 
 brought the world upon us." 
 
 " I was unjust, unkind," she answered quickly 
 enough, stretching out her hand to him. " You must 
 forgive me. You see even the approach of yonder 
 ship brings bitterness into our hearts and into our 
 speech." 
 
 " I guessed that it would be so when I saw you 
 weep," said the man. " I wish now that I had not 
 given you the flint and steel ; that I had not allowed 
 you to light the beacon." 
 
 " My friend, it had to be. Don t reproach your 
 self with that. Sooner or later this island would 
 have been visited by someone. Sooner or later 
 the ship would have come to fetch us off."
 
 The Coming of the World 199 
 
 " But we were so happy here," he protested. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " but not since yesterday." 
 
 " Are you unhappy because I love you ? " 
 
 " Because," she made swift to reply, " I am no 
 longer sure that you will love me always." 
 
 "But you love me, do you not?" he questioned 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Are you sure of yourself? " 
 
 " Absolutely." 
 
 "Why not of me, then? Am I less true? Do I 
 love less than you ? " 
 
 "Not now." 
 
 "What is the difference between us, then?" 
 
 " I have seen the world and you have not." 
 
 " But I tell you that will make no difference ; 
 that . . 
 
 " No man can say that who has no experience to 
 draw upon." 
 
 " You are my mentor," said the man gently. " You 
 have taught me all I know, but sometimes I think 
 that about some things I know more than you, and 
 this is one thing of which I am sure." 
 
 " Yes," said the woman, " you can be sure so long 
 as conditions remain as they are at present, but other 
 times, other manners . . ." 
 
 " You had something to tell me? " interrupted the 
 other swiftly.
 
 2OO The Island of Regeneration 
 
 The woman nodded. 
 
 You said yesterday you would tell me to-day. 
 Why not tell me now? " 
 
 "Because ... ." 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " Are you afraid to tell me? 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 "Afraid of what?" 
 
 "Of losing you." 
 
 " Banish that fear." 
 
 "But tis not that that keeps me silent." 
 
 "What, then?" 
 
 " I would have you hear the world s comment on 
 what I say when I say it." 
 
 " The world s comment ! What is the world s 
 comment to me? " 
 
 "A test, a trial of your feelings! If it breaks 
 my heart, you must know." 
 
 " If you feel that way about it," said the man res 
 olutely, " you need tell me nothing at all." 
 
 It was a brave thing to say, for her mysterious 
 words filled him with dubiety and dismay. He had 
 no idea what it was that she could tell him. He 
 had no experience by and through which to embody 
 her vague hints into something real and tangible. 
 He knew that he was terribly grieved, and but that 
 he had no way to describe the pain of jealousy, he 
 would have said that he was racked with that un 
 happy emotion.
 
 The Coming of the World 201 
 
 " Tell me nothing," he repeated again, " if it 
 grieves you." 
 
 "Are you afraid of the test?" she asked swiftly. 
 
 " I am afraid of nothing except losing you." 
 
 " I am not worthy of you," returned the woman, 
 " as I told you, but if you will have me, if you will 
 take me when I have said what I must say and when 
 the world has said what it will say, then I shall be 
 yours so long as I live." 
 
 " It is well," said he man. " I wait the ship now 
 eagerly, that I may show you that what I have said 
 is true." 
 
 "The vessel is nearer now," she said at last, ris 
 ing from where they had been seated together upon 
 the grass absorbed in each other, and pointing sea 
 ward. 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " I can even see figures upon 
 deck." 
 
 "Your brother men." 
 
 " Will there be women on the ship?" 
 
 " I do not know," she answered quickly. " It isn t 
 likely. Do you wish to see other women? " 
 
 " None," was the instant answer. " I wondered if 
 my brothers would bring your sisters. That was 
 all." 
 
 There was absolutely no dissimulation about the 
 man. There had been no coquetry about her. He 
 would simply have failed entirely to understand what 
 it was. He was as honest, as straightforward, as
 
 2O2 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 absolute simplicity and sincerity must ever be, and 
 she had met him exactly on his own ground. It was 
 impossible, therefore, for her to misapprehend his 
 mere casual interest. 
 
 She stood quietly studying the approaching ves 
 sel. As she did so, it came to her mind that there 
 was something strangely familiar about the oncoming 
 ship. She stared longer and the conviction grew 
 upon her. When she realized it, she clasped her 
 hand to her heart with a sudden gasp and turned a 
 white face upon him. He was all solicitude in an 
 instant. 
 
 "What is the matter?" he cried. " Your face is 
 white; you look so strangely." 
 
 " It is a sudden pain," she gasped, terror and dis 
 may constricting her throat. 
 
 She wavered. He thought she was going to fall. 
 He stepped closer to her and put his arm about her. 
 
 "No, no!" she said, repulsing him. 
 
 It was like the first command she had given him 
 in those bygone days when he had stood dumbly be 
 fore her. 
 
 " No, no ! " she pushed him away. " I shall be 
 all right." 
 
 " And has the approach of men deprived me of 
 the privilege of touching you?" he asked wistfully. 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 " Don t ask me now," she answered. "I : . ,.. ., 
 I ... cannot explain."
 
 The Coming of the World 203 
 
 The vessel was nearer now and, as she stared, it- 
 came to a stop and swung broadside to the reef. 
 There was no mistaking it. It was the Southern 
 Cross. She knew it as well as she knew her own 
 face. The thing which she had dreaded so when 
 she fled from that vessel in the launch, which she 
 had dreaded for a time in the first period of her 
 sojourn on the island, had come to pass. It was the 
 very yacht from which she had escaped. Undoubt 
 edly it bore the man from whom she had fled. He 
 had come to claim her. Of all the teeming mil 
 lions which the world held, this was he whom she 
 would fain have avoided. Rather anyone and every 
 one had come to her than he ! What would happen 
 when these men met? The story that she would 
 have told him to-day in her own way had the ship 
 not appeared, the story that she would have told 
 him on her decks had that ship been other than it 
 was, he must now learn by the brutal force of cir 
 cumstances, through some compelling necessity which 
 she could not in any way influence or alter. She 
 loathed the man who was coming toward her. Her 
 Christianity trembled in the balance. She would 
 fain have called invectives down upon his head, and 
 for the moment she swept the whole sex together 
 in one unreasoning hatred and resentment in which 
 the man of the island participated. What sorry jest 
 had blind fate played upon her? 
 
 She moved farther away from her companion un-
 
 204 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 ler the constraint of these thoughts, and when he 
 would have approached her nearer she flamed upon 
 him in sudden anger that left him appalled. But 
 under the influence of it he kept his distance. She 
 saw the way of the yacht checked. She saw the 
 boat dropped from the davits and manned by the 
 men. She saw a figure, too far off to recognize, 
 but which she divined must be his, descend the 
 battens from the gangway. She saw the little boat 
 headed toward the shore. Then she turned to the 
 man. He was standing with folded arms, his brow 
 as black as midnight, staring out to sea. He knew 
 nothing, understood nothing, comprehended noth 
 ing, suspected nothing. His only realization was 
 that she, his gentle goddess, whom he had loved, was 
 angry with him, so far as he was concerned with 
 out rhyme or reason or cause. 
 
 The stoppage of the ship, the lowering of the boat, 
 its approach to the island, were now matters of in 
 difference to him. She was angry. He could think 
 of nothing else, and there was bewilderment in his 
 dismay. Nothing had given him power to solve 
 the enigma of her conduct. Where she gazed with 
 serious intentness, he looked listlessly. Her heart 
 smote her again. The sense of justice upon which 
 she prided herself came to her rescue. She stepped 
 close to him and laid her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " she murmured, and her heart 
 leaped within her bosom to meet the great flush of
 
 The Coming of the World 205 
 
 pleasure in his face as he responded instantly to her 
 caress and her appeal. 
 
 " What has troubled you," he said gently, " that 
 you are angry with me?" 
 
 " You will know soon enough," was the answer. 
 " But see, the boat approaches the reef. It would 
 be best for us to go to the shore and direct them, if 
 we can, to the entrance, otherwise they will not be 
 able to make a landing, and they may turn in their 
 search for an entrance and be compelled to the long 
 row around the island." 
 
 " And if they never landed," said the man, " would 
 you be happy? If they went away without seeing 
 us, would you believe me without the test?" 
 
 " My friend," said the woman gently. 
 
 She had often called him that during their long 
 intercourse, and it was a name he had loved until 
 yesterday. Now he would fain have had something 
 near and dearer. 
 
 " My friend," she began, " it is too late now. Such 
 is the temper of men that having once been at 
 tracted to this island they would not be satisfied 
 until they had visited it. They saw the fire. They 
 know that human beings kindled it and for some pur 
 pose. They won t go away until they find out who 
 did It and why." 
 
 * Would that I had never given you that flint and 
 steel ! " he cried bitterly. 
 
 She smiled at him.
 
 206 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 u It was my appeal, you remember, and if you 
 repine again, I shall think you fear the test. Come, 
 let us go down to the shore." 
 
 " You said you know men," the man asked as they 
 threaded their way through the trees and down the 
 hill along the familiar path, " do you know any 
 one on that ship, do you think?" 
 
 The question was an absurd one under almost any 
 other circumstances than that. Yet chance had 
 shown him the one point in her armor, and his inno 
 cent and casual question had driven into her soul a 
 barb. Evasion would have been easy. Indeed, his 
 trust in her was so great that deceit would have 
 been simple. But she had always told him the truth, 
 and she could not begin to deceive him now. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "I think I do." 
 
 He stopped abruptly, illumination and anguish, 
 the light of pain, in his soul. 
 
 " Was it because you know that man that you suf 
 fered GO on the hill? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, again forcing herself to speak. 
 
 " Is he one of those who loved you? " 
 
 " He said so, but ..." 
 
 "And you, did you love him?" 
 
 " I hated him." 
 
 "Why?" asked the man sternly. "Had he in 
 jured you in some way?" 
 
 " In the greatest way," she answered with deep-
 
 The Coming of the World 207 
 
 ening gravity. And here her sense of justice pricked 
 her. " But it was partly my fault." 
 
 " And have you forgiven him? " he asked with a 
 little softening of his voice. 
 
 To him forgiveness was as natural and inevitable 
 as breathing. In his ethics there was no other course. 
 He had never had anything to forgive, be it remem 
 bered. She was not so true to her standard as the 
 man she had taught. The pupil was more de 
 voted than the master. 
 
 "There are some things," she replied bitterly, 
 " that a woman never forgives, cannot forgive." 
 
 "What things?" he persisted, wondering igno- 
 rantly as to her meaning. 
 
 " Don t ask me," she answered impatiently. " I 
 told you I would tell you the story to-day, and you 
 will have to wait until I do." 
 
 " But that comment of the world?" 
 
 " You will hear it from that man s lips, if I mis 
 take not," said the woman wearily. " But you must 
 press me no further. See, they are close to the 
 reef. We must hasten." 
 
 She drew her hand away from his and ran rapidly 
 to the beach. Naturally he followed, overtaking her 
 in a few swift steps and running, as was his wont, by 
 her side. If he had stopped to indulge in the luxury 
 of self-examination, he would have found his feel 
 ings in such a turmoil of such strange emotions as
 
 208 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 would have defied classification and description. Of 
 but two things was he very clear: that he loved this 
 woman, and that in some way, for causes unfathom 
 able and not present to him, he hated the man or the 
 men in the boat off shore. 
 
 By the woman s directions just before they reached 
 the shore, the man picked up two fallen branches of 
 palm. They ran to the beach opposite the entrance 
 and waved the palm branches above their heads. 
 It was too far for the voice to carry, and there was 
 too much noise from the breakers on the reef if the 
 distance had been shorter. But the men in the boat 
 evidently caught sight of the signals and understood 
 them, for she was presently headed about and in a 
 few moments they saw her prow cut the blue waters 
 of the lagoon through the one entrance to the bar 
 rier. The man and woman stood silently, a little 
 apart, watching the swift approach. Unerringly 
 steered, the boat struck the gently shelving beach 
 bows on, and a last sturdy pull drove her fairly out 
 of the water. The man in the stern sheets rose, 
 stepped forward between the oarsmen, and leaped 
 out on the sand. 
 
 The present was in touch with the past, conven 
 tional faced the unconventional, civilization and the 
 primitive confronted one another.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ACCUSATION AND ADMISSION 
 
 Now that the great moment had come for Lang- 
 ford had at once recognized the woman whom he had 
 sought, in spite of her strange garb he became sud 
 denly acutely conscious of trivial details and ac 
 curately responsible to matters of no moment. For 
 instance, he stopped near the bow of the boat, told 
 the coxswain that he might allow the men to land 
 but that they must remain close to the beach and 
 within easy call, and directed him to see that the 
 boat was properly secured. Then he turned and 
 walked slowly singular how eager he had been for 
 that moment and how tardy he was in availing him 
 self of it when it came toward the two who had 
 stood silently watching a little distance away. 
 
 He was dressed in a boating suit of white and 
 wore a white yachting cap. He was distinctly good- 
 looking. His repentance, his anxiety, his disappoint 
 ment, had refined his face to a marked degree and 
 he was not an unworthy specimen of humanity in 
 appearance. The man looked at him with vivid 
 curiosity and a sudden sense of dismay to find the 
 newcomer so worthy of respect on the ground of ap 
 pearance at least. 
 
 The glance that Langford gave the man was at 
 209
 
 2IO The Island of Regeneration 
 
 once casual and indifferent. His whole interest was 
 centered upon the woman. He found himself trem 
 bling violently in spite of the superhuman efforts he 
 put forth at control. It was only the most iron con 
 straint indeed that enabled him to approach her at 
 all. As he drew near to her, he took off his cap, 
 bowed to her, and strove to speak calmly. 
 
 " Katharine," he said at last hoarsely, " thank 
 God that I have found you ! " 
 
 " Woman," said the man by her side, stepping 
 swiftly forward and confronting Langford, " who 
 is this man? " 
 
 " His name," returned the woman steadily, " is 
 Valentine Arthur Langford." 
 
 " What did you do to her," asked the man with 
 the bluntest possible directness, " that she weeps at 
 the thought of you; that she is filled with horror 
 as you approach; that she looks at you as she does 
 now? I have never seen that look upon her face since 
 we have been upon this island." 
 
 Langford turned and faced the man as these sin 
 gular queries were put to him. 
 
 "Who is this man, Katharine?" he asked, an 
 angry flush in his face. 
 
 " I don t know for certain," the woman answered, 
 "but I think his name is . . ." 
 
 " What has my name to do with it? " interrupted 
 the man persistently. " Will you answer my ques 
 tions?"
 
 The Coming of the World 21 r 
 
 " When I know who you are and by what right 
 you put them, I will decide," was Langford s con 
 temptuous answer. 
 
 The woman had never seen her companion in a 
 temper, but he was perilously near the breaking point 
 now, and Langford, although he realized it not, 
 had never been and would never be in so much dan 
 ger as at that instant. A swift glance showed her 
 the man strung to the very outbreaking point. The 
 woman laid her hand upon his arm, a calming touch. 
 
 " In the world," she said, striving in the emer 
 gency for the calming touch of the commonplace, 
 "people are presented to one another." 
 
 How she loathed the intruder! She thought for a 
 moment that she had only to say the word and her 
 island companion would tear him to pieces. She 
 wondered how far after all she had succeeded in in 
 stilling into his mind the restraints of civilization. 
 She began to see dimly that such an achievement 
 was beyond the power of any single individual; that 
 it had been in the past and would always be in the 
 future the result of the co-operation and restraint 
 of the many. Yet she forced herself to speak evenly 
 to the visitor. 
 
 " Mr. Langford, I believe this man s name to be 
 John Revell Charnock. I believe him to be an 
 American, a Virginian. I found him here upon the 
 island." 
 
 " This matters nothing," said the islander. " I
 
 212 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 don t care what this man s name is, or who he is. 
 I want to know why he distresses you." 
 
 " Sir," said Langford, wondering what was the 
 best tone to take with this singular being, " pray let 
 us all withdraw yonder to the shade of the trees 
 where we can be more private." 
 
 The men in the boat, who had scrambled out upon 
 the sands, had been eager spectators and auditors of 
 everything that had gone on. Their curiosity was 
 greatly excited and their propinquity was evidently 
 distasteful to Langford. 
 
 " You are refusing to answer my questions," said 
 the man. " I will not be put off further." 
 
 " Man," said the woman, laying her hand upon 
 his arm, " it is my wish." 
 
 "Oh, if you wish it." 
 
 Without a word he led the way rapidly across the 
 beach out of earshot, but not out of sight, among 
 the trees. 
 
 "Now," he said, turning and facing the other two. 
 
 He noticed that the woman was ghastly white and 
 that Langford was scarcely less pale. 
 
 " Sir," said Langford firmly, " I decline to answer 
 your questions. I have business with this lady and 
 with her alone. It does not concern you, and I beg 
 you to withdraw for a moment and give me free 
 speech with her. After that I may have some ques 
 tions to put to you." 
 
 "Everything that concerns her concerns me," said
 
 The Coming of the World 213 
 
 the man sternly. "What you have to say to her 
 must be said to me. Speak on." 
 
 For a moment Langford looked as if he would 
 have sprung upon the other, but he was so clearly 
 no match for the wild stranger that discretion came 
 to his aid and kept him still. Besides, he had no 
 wish for vulgar brawling then. He turned to the 
 woman. 
 
 " Katharine," he said, " I have much to say to 
 you. Can t you make this man hear reason?" 
 
 " She has made me hear reason for three years," 
 answered the man for her before she could speak, 
 " but her power ends in this hour." 
 
 The woman looked at him piteously and nodded 
 her head. She realized that the thread of destiny 
 was taken from her hands and forever. 
 
 " Mr. Langford, you will have to say to me what 
 ever you wish before this man," she said at last. 
 
 " Why, tis impossible ! " cried the other. 
 
 "It must be." 
 
 " And," interposed the man, " you shall say noth 
 ing to her until you have answered my ques 
 tions." 
 
 There must be no violence," cried the woman, 
 stepping between the two. "No violence!" 
 
 For answer the man gently, but with irresistible 
 force, lifted her out of the way. She knew now 
 where he got the strength to tear the rocky wall, 
 and while she trembled, she thrilled.
 
 214 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " Katharine," said Langford to do him justice 
 he was not afraid "what is this man to you?" 
 
 " I am nothing to her," answered the man, " ex 
 cept that I love her." 
 
 "And you?" said Langford hotly, still address 
 ing the woman. 
 
 " She loves me," again answered the other, " and 
 we were happy until you brought the world to our 
 shores. Since then she has wept. Look at her 
 now." 
 
 " My God," exclaimed Langford, " is it pos 
 sible?" 
 
 " It is true," said the woman, finding voice at last 
 and looking steadily from one to the other. 
 
 Langford s emotion passed all bounds. He had 
 trembled before; he shook now as if with the palsy. 
 He reached out and caught the trunk of one of 
 the trees to steady himself. 
 
 What are you to this man, in God s name?" 
 he cried. 
 
 " Nothing. Ever since I fled from the ship on 
 that hateful night and landed on this island, we have 
 been friends, good friends. He was a castaway. He 
 had forgotten his speech. He had lived here alone 
 since he was a child. I taught him everything." 
 
 "To love you?" queried Langford in hot and 
 bitter jealously. 
 
 That was one thing I learned myself," answered 
 the man. "And yesterday something, you might call
 
 The Coming of the World 
 
 it chance, but I call it God," said the man gravely, 
 " discovered to us the love we bore each other, and 
 that is all." 
 
 " Are you forgive the question," said Langford, 
 addressing the woman, and there was agony in his 
 voice, " as you were when I left you?" 
 
 u I am a different woman, thank God ! " 
 
 "Different!" 
 
 Yes, but in the sense in which you mean the 
 question, I am just as I was, save that I love this 
 man." 
 
 " But you had no right to love him or anyone," 
 burst forth Langford bitteny. 
 
 "And do you reproach me with that?" 
 
 "Do I?" 
 
 Think of your wife." 
 
 "She s dead," said the man hoarsely. "I have 
 searched the world for you. I have come back here 
 to make amends, to own my fault, to marry you be- 
 fcre God and man, to take you back, to do for 
 you as long as I shall live all that a man can 
 do." 
 
 There was such genuine passion in his voice and 
 in his appeal that the most inimical and indifferent 
 would have recognized it, but there was no response 
 to it in the woman s heart. A greater love than his 
 had come into her soul. The whole current of her 
 being flow r ed to the man by her side. 
 
 " No," she said. " Your words have no appeal
 
 216 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 for me. They awaken no response in my heart. I 
 love this man, not you." 
 
 " Have you thought," persisted Langford mean 
 ingly, " that you are not free to love anyone but 
 me?" 
 
 " By heaven ! " cried the man, springing forward, 
 " this time I will be answered. Why is she not free 
 to love me or anyone ? " 
 
 " Because," said the other resolutely, " before she 
 came into your life she belonged to me." 
 
 "Belonged to you?" 
 
 11 Yes, to me." 
 
 "And by what tie?" 
 
 Langford hesitated. He was furiously wrought 
 up. He saw that it was necessary to make a break, 
 a rupture, between these two. He thought that if 
 he could do so, his own suit might the better prosper. 
 He was in deadly earnest and therefore he took the 
 risk. How frightful it was, he had no preconception. 
 He did not understand that he was dealing with a 
 primitive man. How should he? He did not under 
 stand what passions slept beneath the surface. And 
 perhaps if he had understood, to do him justice, for 
 he was a fearless man, he would have ventured just 
 the same. 
 
 " She was my mistress ! " he said through his 
 teeth. 
 
 " Shame ! Shame ! " cried the woman, and then 
 she fell silent, clasping her hands and waiting for
 
 The Coming of the World 217 
 
 what might come. The hour of her travail was 
 upon her. 
 
 Langford flashed a look at her, and then his gaze 
 reverted to the man. The expected outbreak did not 
 instantly come. 
 
 " Mistress ! " said the other. " I know not what 
 that means, but tis a word of bitterness. Say fur 
 ther and more clearly your intent." 
 
 "Why, you fool!" 
 
 " He that calleth his brother a fool shall be 
 damned," said the man. 
 
 Langford stared at him. 
 
 " Where have you lived," he cried, w that you 
 don t know the meaning of words?" 
 
 " I have lived nowhere but here, and I have known 
 no language but what this woman has taught me." 
 
 " Yet she could easily have taught you the meaning 
 of that word," the other responded with cruel, ruth 
 less meaning. 
 
 " I will take the lesson from you." 
 
 " You will have it then ! " 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " She was my wife, but without the blessing of 
 God or the law of man. I owned her, do you un 
 derstand? I possessed her, body and soul." 
 
 " Not soul," said the woman, but the protest was 
 lost. 
 
 You lie I " cried the man, swiftly leaping upon 
 him.
 
 2i8 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 No tiger ever sprang with such swiftness or such 
 ferocity. Langford was prepared for an attack. He 
 dealt a blow at the oncoming figure with all the 
 force of his arm, and skill and training enabled him 
 to put into it more than one would have fancied from 
 the slightness of his figure. He struck the man fairly 
 in the chest. The blow apparently might have 
 staggered an ox; it had no effect whatever upon the 
 other. In an instant Langford was caught as if in 
 the grasp of a whirlwind. He was lifted from the 
 earth and held high in the air. For one tense mo 
 ment, unable to struggle, he hung upon uplifted arms. 
 He heard a voice beneath him cry: 
 
 " Woman, shall I throw him down and kill him? " 
 " Do him no hurt," said the woman, " for what 
 he has said, as he sees it, is true."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 CONFRONTED 
 
 AT these appalling words the strength seemed all 
 at once to go out of the man s arms. Heavily, but 
 not with purposeful ungentleness, he slowly sat 
 Langford down upon his feet on the sand. 
 
 " You brute ! " cried the man, trembling with im 
 potent anger. 
 
 There was nothing that he could do personally. 
 If he had possessed a weapon he would have killed 
 the islander, but he was unarmed and helpless. 
 Therefore he turned toward the beach and called to 
 his men. They had seen the sudden attack and were 
 already running across the sands. 
 
 " No," said the woman, " that word belongs to 
 you. You have told the truth, and yet not all." 
 She turned to her companion of the island. " Man," 
 she said, " you have loved me. You must hear what 
 I have to say." 
 
 You have said that it was true," he muttered 
 hoarsely. u And the man who has said it lives. 
 Lives!" 
 
 Plis voice rose to a cry. He turned toward Lang- 
 ford again. But by this time the six blue jackets 
 who made up the boat s crew were close at hand. 
 
 219
 
 22O The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " Haley," cried Langford to the coxswain, " seize 
 that brute yonder, and . . ." 
 
 The woman was still wearing the knife that she 
 habitually carried. She used it often and kept the 
 blade bright and of keen edge. She whipped it 
 out on the instant, her civilization falling from her 
 like a discarded garment when the man she loved 
 was threatened. 
 
 " Let no one lay hand upon him," she cried, aflame 
 to defend him. " I swear that I will drive it into 
 my own heart if he be touched." 
 
 " Give me the knife," said her companion sud 
 denly. 
 
 Before she could prevent him, he whipped it out 
 of her hand. 
 
 "And now," he said, springing toward the hud 
 dled group of sailors, the bright blade liffed, " which 
 of you will touch me?" 
 
 The men shrank back. There was something so 
 furious in the aspect of the man, his power was so 
 evident, and his temper as well, that none wished 
 to precipitate the fray. 
 
 " I appeal to you," said the woman, turning to 
 Langford, " send back the men. A moment since 
 I saved your life. At a word from me he would 
 have thrown you from him and broken your back. 
 Be generous. You must. And this man shall give 
 me a hearing. You are safe from him, I promise 
 you,"
 
 The Coming of the World 221 
 
 What might have been the result of this appeal 
 can never be determined, for at that moment a new 
 factor entered upon the scene, a factor whose pres 
 ence was as surprising and unexpected as it was de 
 terminative. From out to sea, yet near at hand, 
 came a muffled detonation, the roar of a heavy gun. 
 Around one of the headlands that rose on that side 
 of the island there swept the white sides of another 
 great ship beside which the yacht, imposing though 
 she was, was a toy. It was the woman who saw it 
 first. 
 
 "Look!" she cried. "A ship of war. See the 
 flag of the United States. This land is America. 
 I claim it by right of discovery. Lay but a hand 
 upon this man and I will have you hanged for 
 murder, Langford. With their glasses they have 
 seen this encounter. That gun was a warning. A 
 boat is putting off. Thank God, we are saved from 
 you ! " 
 
 Things had transpired even as she said. What 
 the cruiser was doing in those seas, how happened 
 she to be there, were things as yet unknown, but 
 that she was there was apparent. She had ap 
 proached the island from the other side and had 
 sailed around it. Her men had observed the en 
 counter on the shore, which seemed to be between na 
 tives and persons from the yacht which was in plain 
 view a little farther out to sea, and the gun had
 
 222 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 been fired to call attention to the advent of the United 
 States. 
 
 This put an entirely new face on the v/hole af 
 fair. Matters were taken out of the hands of the 
 parties to the quarrel. The law had come to the 
 island. The islander did not, could not, know it, 
 but his baffled antagonist realized it immediately. 
 So did the woman. At Langford s command, his 
 men, much bewildered at the scene they had wit 
 nessed, went back to their boat. He himself pres 
 ently followed after and stood upon the strand await 
 ing the approach of the heavy man-of-war cutter 
 which had pulled away from the big white cruiser s 
 side. 
 
 " Man," she said softly, " this is what I had to tell 
 you." 
 
 He nodded. A hollow groan burst from his lips. 
 " His mistress," he muttered brokenly. 
 " I would not have had you learn in this way, and 
 now that you have heard so much, you must hear 
 more," she went on, not sparing herself, though she 
 might justly have resented the word. She was deal 
 ing with more serious things than words now, bitter 
 though they might be. "That ship, which is the 
 ship of our country, stands for law as his for li 
 cense. I was more sinned against than sinning. 
 When you have heard all, then you shall judge. This 
 is the test." 
 
 " Would God that it had never been laid upon
 
 The Coming of the World 223 
 
 me," said the man hoarsely. " Would God that 
 the beacon had not been lighted on the hill ! " 
 
 "Nay," returned the woman gently, "that s past 
 praying for. Decision rests with you, but you must 
 not pass it until you have heard the whole story. 
 The world holds me stained, polluted it may be, 
 as he said, but I am not the sinner that it thinks me 
 or he portrays." 
 
 " You said it was true," doggedly cried the man. 
 
 " Yes, but not all true." 
 
 "And I had him in my hands, and still he 
 lives." 
 
 "Won t you hear me? " pleaded the woman. 
 
 The man shook her off and turned away. That 
 very innocence which had prevented his understand 
 ing at first the charge, made it the more hideous 
 when comprehension came. He had loved this 
 woman with a love that passed the love of man, for 
 there had not entered in his mind the faintest pos 
 sibility that she could ever be or ever have been 
 other than what she seemed, a daughter of the gods, 
 in truth, in sweetness, and in purity. And this man 
 had come from out of the world and proclaimed her 
 his mistress, his cast-off, abandoned mistress. Once 
 the clew was given he found more hideous depths 
 of infamy in that word than would have appeared 
 had his been a wiser and more experienced vision. 
 Indeed, so clear and pure was the soul of this woman 
 that a man of the world would have known in-
 
 224 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 stantly that there was an explanation, which this 
 child of nature could not see forthcoming. He 
 wanted to be away from her and alone, and he 
 turned as if to plunge into the depths of the forest, 
 but with gentle force she restrained him. 
 
 " If you are a man, with a man s power and a 
 man s soul and a man s heart, you cannot fly now. 
 You must stay and face the problem. The question 
 must be pursued to the bitter end. My life and your 
 life depend upon what we do now, perhaps his life, 
 too." 
 
 " O God," cried the man, recurring again to that 
 bitter thought, " I had him in my hands and spared 
 him." 
 
 " But you spared him for my sake," said the 
 woman, "think of that." 
 
 " For your sake," declared the man pointedly, " I 
 should and would have killed him." 
 
 "Thou shalt not kill! " said the woman softly. 
 
 " An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," re 
 turned the man. " He and you between you slew 
 my heart. His death would be no murder, but ret 
 ribution." 
 
 " But it was in part my fault," returned the woman, 
 bravely making her confession. 
 
 " I will never believe it. It cannot be." 
 
 " And yet it was, but you shall have the whole 
 wretched story to-day, and you shall judge. This 
 much I will say, that though all that he said was
 
 " THOU SHALT NOT KILL! "
 
 The Coming of the World 22$ 
 
 true, yet I hold myself blameless and innocent. The 
 world judges me harshly, and it may be that you will 
 find its judgment just. Yet I do not hold myself 
 as on trial at this moment, but you." 
 
 " I do not understand." 
 
 " There are many things that you do not under 
 stand, my friend." 
 
 " I would that I had been left in ignorance." 
 
 " Nay, that is not a man s wish, but a child s." 
 
 " Of one thing am I certain." 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 "That I should have killed him!" 
 
 " Nay," said the woman again, " that is not a 
 child s wish, but a brute s." 
 
 "You said yourself," he flashed at her, "that 
 there were some things a woman could not forgive, 
 and this is one thing that a man puts in the same 
 class." 
 
 The woman sighed. There occurred to her at the 
 moment no answer which was adequate to the stark 
 realism of this fact. The conversation had reached 
 an impasse beyond which it could not progress with 
 out the full and complete explanation which now 
 there was neither time nor opportunity to give, for 
 the boat from the man-of-war was approaching the 
 shore. The woman stepped resolutely down the 
 strand to meet it, and the man, after a slight hesi 
 tation, followed after. 
 
 So soon as the boat s keel grated on the bottom in
 
 226 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the shallow water a middle-aged officer rose from 
 the stern sheets and stepped ashore, followed by a 
 younger companion in the uniform of a sergeant 
 of marines. A little squad of privates in the bows 
 landed and fell in line with martial celerity and pre 
 cision. The officer in charge, who wore the white 
 tropic uniform of a lieutenant-commander, now faced 
 the people on the island who had instinctively di 
 vided into two groups, one on either side of him. To 
 the right stood the man, and behind him the woman, 
 to the left Langford, back of him his crew. It was 
 to the latter that the officer first addressed himself. 
 
 " Sir," he began, " I am the executive officer of the 
 United States cruiser Cheyenne, detached on special 
 service. We raised this island this morning, ran it 
 down, circled it, saw the yacht yonder. . . ." 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " It is my yacht, sir, the Southern Cross an 
 swered the other. " My name is Langford." 
 
 " Glad to meet you, Mr. Langford. Mine is 
 Whittaker." 
 
 The lieutenant-commander touched his cap as he 
 spoke. Langford lifted his, and the two shook 
 hands. 
 
 : We saw," continued the lieutenant-commander, 
 " what appeared to be some sort of a fracas with 
 the natives, and fired a gun to attract attention, 
 and Captain Ashby sent this boat party ashore 
 under my charge to do whatever was necessary.
 
 The Coming of the World 227 
 
 Perhaps you can explain how you came to be em 
 broiled with the natives." 
 
 " Sir," said the woman and the fact that she ad 
 dressed him in his own language and with the cul 
 tivated accents of the well-bred and the well-educated 
 caused the officer to start violently " the island is 
 mine." 
 
 Mr. Whittaker turned and looked deliberately at 
 her, his surprise only equaled by his admiration. 
 The tunic that she wore was a rough garment and 
 shapeless, but few vestments were better calculated 
 to set off her exquisite proportions. The grace and 
 beauty of her figure, the nobility and intelligence of 
 her face, took added luster from the contrast of the 
 utterly simple, natural, and primitive. Whittaker s 
 glance fell upon a well-nigh perfect woman. The 
 constraining influences of civilization had been so 
 long absent that nature had time and opportunity 
 to reassert its claim. She was tall, exquisitely mod 
 eled. Her bare arms might have supplied those 
 missing from the Venus of Milo; her limbs, which 
 the short tunic to her knee left exposed, were per 
 fect in their symmetry and strength; her feet were 
 such as those to which ancient Greece had bowed; 
 her hands were shapely, graceful, yet strong; her 
 dark eyes looked at him fearlessly; her dark hair 
 rose like a somber, cloudy crown above her brow. 
 The fierce sun, the open air, the wild wind had not 
 materially altered the clear, slightly olive pallor of
 
 228 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 her face. The woman had been beautiful before. 
 Now that nature had had free sway, she was nobly 
 lovely. She had stood a little in the rear of the man 
 at first and the lieutenant-commander had not par 
 ticularly observed her. When she spoke, she stepped 
 into the open. He stared and stared, amazed. 
 
 Indeed, the direct intensity of his glance added 
 a sudden new perception to the woman s faculties, 
 and for the first time in years she realized that she 
 was standing before her fellows half naked. In 
 one swift moment convention leaped across the miss 
 ing years and caught her in its arms. The red 
 flashed into her cheek; beneath her rude vest her 
 bosom rose and fell. Her instinct for the moment 
 was to fly. She wished that she had put on those 
 treasured garments which she had kept for a scene 
 like this in that cave all those years. It was too 
 late now. She summoned her courage and, realiz 
 ing that dignity after all is not made of clothes 
 or conventions, once more addressed him. 
 
 " Sir," she said, " my name is Katharine Brenton. 
 I am not, as you might well think, a savage, but a 
 castaway." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the officer, a man of 
 wide reading and culture, " is it possible that you are 
 the Katharine Brenton who wrote Fate and Des 
 tiny ?" 
 
 " I am that unhappy woman." 
 
 * Unhappy?"
 
 The Coming of the World 229 
 
 " Yes," returned the other, " I . . . " 
 
 " Madam," said the lieutenant-commander, flush 
 ing deeply and bowing in his turn. He had taken 
 off his cap at her first word. " I beg your pardon, 
 I have heard something of your story." 
 
 He was very much embarrassed. It was Langford 
 who took up the tale. 
 
 " Since you know so much, Mr. Whittaker, you 
 may as well hear the rest. Indeed, I am anxious that 
 the world shall hear it. Miss Brenton and I, we 
 . . . er . . . did not believe in marriage, 
 and we went away . . . together." 
 
 Every word was agony to Langford, who was a 
 proud man; it was worse agony to Katharine Bren 
 ton, who was a proud woman; and it was worst 
 agony of all to the man of the island. But Lang- 
 ford persisted. He did not care how he hurt him 
 self. Indeed, he rather luxuriated in the conscious 
 ness of his own pain. It was part of his expiation. 
 He realized that he would have to hurt Katharine, 
 but perhaps the very keenness of her pain would 
 make her realize her position, and he wanted to 
 win her, now that he had found her and seen her, 
 more than ever. Nor was his passion a base one. 
 Again he was ashamed of what he had already said, 
 so he spoke the more frankly. He gave no thought 
 at all to the other man, but if he had, he would have 
 been glad to hurt him until he killed him. 
 
 "We went away on my yacht yonder three years
 
 230 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 ago. I ... in short ... I behaved like a 
 brute on it, I will admit." 
 
 " I discovered that he was a married man," said 
 the Woman swiftly at this juncture. She, too, would 
 be frank. This grave and middle-aged officer should 
 hear all. " He had professed belief in those views 
 which, if you have read Fate and Destiny, you 
 realized that I entertained." 
 
 The officer bowed. 
 
 "And have you abandoned them now? " he asked. 
 
 "Absolutely," was the firm answer. "I am a 
 Christian woman, thank God!" 
 
 "Thank God say I, too," continued Langford. 
 " Yet I was not altogether a sham or a lie. It is 
 true that I was a married man." 
 
 The lieutenant-commander flashed a contemptu 
 ous look at him, at which Langford winced, but he 
 went on. He was determined to make an absolutely 
 clean breast of the whole affair. 
 
 " It is true I was a married man, but I was under 
 the spell of Miss Brenton s eloquence and of her 
 beauty." 
 
 " I can well understand that," said the officer 
 gravely as a matter of course. 
 
 " I thought that marriage meant nothing and that 
 the old tie might be disregarded. I hated the woman 
 who bore my name, and so, as Miss Brenton s dis 
 ciple, as her devotee, for I loved her, I will admit," 
 he smiled drearily, " more than her philosophy, I
 
 The Coming of the World 231 
 
 proposed that we should trample upon the conven 
 tions she had taught me to believe she despised, and 
 go away together." 
 
 " But you were not free," said the woman, " to 
 enter upon such an undertaking." 
 
 "No, by heaven! " cried Whittaker. 
 
 Now this conversation had been carried on with 
 three auditors, or groups of auditors, besides those 
 participating, Langford s yachtsmen, the marines 
 and seamen from the Cheyenne, for the boat was 
 against the shore, and the man of the island. Whit- 
 taker first awoke to the situation. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, " but would it not 
 be better to continue this conversation privately?" 
 
 " I think so," returned Langford. 
 
 " No," said the man of the island, addressing the 
 lieutenant-commander for the first time; "you and 
 these men are the world. I want the story told 
 where all the world may hear." 
 
 Whittaker s surprise at this remark was scarcely 
 less than he had experienced when the woman ad 
 dressed him. Who was this splendid, godlike form 
 of man standing glooming by the woman s side, a 
 silent, eager listener to all that transpired? What 
 had he to do with the question that he assumed this 
 tone and manner of authority? The officer turned 
 toward the woman. 
 
 " I think," said he quietly, " that the lady should 
 be allowed to decide."
 
 232 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " My wish is my friend s wish," said the woman, 
 laying her hand softly upon the man s arm. 
 
 Whittaker observed that the man shook it off 
 nervously, but the point being settled, there was no 
 further appeal. 
 
 " Pray proceed with your story, Mr. Langford," 
 he continued. 
 
 "No, let me take up the tale," cried the woman. 
 " Believing that I was right, believing that the ed 
 ucation and training which had made me what I 
 was were sound, believing that this man was as free 
 as I to choose his course and order his lift, know 
 ing nothing of his wife, I yielded to his pleadings. 
 I thought it was a noble and splendid opportunity 
 vouchsafed me, and, in a measure, vouchsafed him 
 to show the world that we did really believe what we 
 said. Had I believed in God then, I should have 
 said his meeting with me, his conversion to my the 
 ories, his passion for me, his willingness to abide by 
 my decision, were providential. I was glad to con 
 secrate my life to the truth, with his aid to take the 
 final step in attestation of my belief, to convince the 
 world that one woman at least had the courage of 
 her convictions. It was a mistake, a frightful mis 
 take, an irreparable mistake, for which I suppose 
 that I must suffer to the end of time." 
 
 " No," cried Langford, " I am here to repair the 
 blunder." 
 
 " There is no power on earth," said the woman
 
 The Coming of the World 233 
 
 passionately, "that can put me where I was; that 
 can give me back that I have lost." 
 
 " Kate, Kate," cried Langford, " you don t under 
 stand!" 
 
 " I understand too well. Why continue the sorry 
 story? Mr. Whittaker, and you that are men be 
 yond, that have wives and children and sweethearts, 
 that have been taught to love God, to believe in 
 Him, and to observe His laws, that have submitted 
 yourselves gladly to the conventions of society or 
 if any there be among you who have outraged 
 these and gone against them, taken the law into your 
 own hands you will understand sooner or later 
 what came to me. I discovered that there was noth 
 ing high or holy in this man s regard for me; that 
 he had persuaded himself that he believed what I 
 taught simply to get possession of me. I awoke to 
 a dreadful realization, alone with him on that yacht. 
 He was not kind to me. He acted according to his 
 lights." 
 
 " I will confess it," said Langford. " I was a 
 brute to her. I drank; I acknowledged that I had 
 a wife; I said she was in my power; I called her vile 
 names." 
 
 There was a low growl, a muttered roar from the 
 men behind Whittaker. Even Langford s own 
 men, in his own pay, shrank back from him. The 
 man was frightfully pale, yet he went on resolutely, 
 Whittaker stilling the tumult with upraised hand.
 
 234 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 "No one," he cried, "can think more hatefully 
 of a human being than I think of myself now. I 
 have not learned her philosophy; I have learned an 
 other and a better. In some sort of a way at least 
 I know that I can never be happy until I have made 
 her happy. I know that I love her now as I should 
 have loved her then ; that I have hunted these seas 
 for her without ceasing since she left me in a drunken 
 stupor one night." 
 
 "Left you how?" asked the lieutenant-com 
 mander. 
 
 " I am not quite clear. I must have descended 
 very low," said Langford. " I remember some sort 
 of a scene at supper, and when I woke in the morn 
 ing, or I didn t wake for six months they found 
 me in the morning with a fractured skull on the cabin 
 floor and they took me back to the United States. 
 It was a year or more before I could begin the search 
 for her." 
 
 " He said things to me that night," said the 
 woman, " that no woman could endure or forgive. 
 He came toward me. I threw him from me with 
 such force and violence I am a strong woman 
 that he lay senseless in the cabin. The motor launch 
 had been got overboard for a trial and was trailing 
 astern. I got in it, drifted away, started the motor 
 and ran it until the gasoline was gone. I brought 
 food and water from the cabin table. I lived a week 
 alone in the boat, bearing southward all the time
 
 The Coming of the World 235 
 
 by means of a sail which I improvised from a boat 
 cloak. One night there was a storm. At the height 
 of it I was thrown upon this island. The . . ." 
 
 " I hoped," said Langford, taking up the tale, 
 " that that might be the case, and with that end in 
 view I have searched the Pacific. I have landed 
 upon many uncharted islands. I have explored 
 others little, if ever, visited, praying to God that she 
 might be alive, that I might find her and make rep 
 aration, and now I have found her at last when I 
 had given up all hope, abandoned all expectation. 
 And I stand here confessing my fault before men, 
 ready to do anything and everything that a man 
 can do to make amends for the past." 
 
 " But you have a wife," said Whittaker coldly. 
 
 " No, she s dead these two years, thank God. I 
 never loved her. It was a boyish infatuation with 
 a designing adventuress who wanted a hold upon my 
 father s money. I am free, free to make her my 
 wife. I ask her, I beg her, to take me, to give me 
 a chance to show that I feel what I have done, to 
 devote my life to expiation." 
 
 He stopped, wiped the moisture from his fore 
 head, stood for a moment in the silence that followed 
 his words, his face downcast. Then he lifted it, 
 haggard, worn, sad, the humiliation of the last few 
 moments having entered deeply into his soul. 
 
 " Kate," he said softly, "your answer! "
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE WOMAN S PLEA 
 
 " Miss BRENTON," said Whittaker with the deepest 
 gravity he could infuse in voice and manner, "you 
 have been a most unfortunate, a most unhappy 
 woman. Allow me to assure you of my sincerest 
 commiseration, my deepest respect, my most pro 
 found admiration. You have suffered, but inno 
 cently. If I may speak the voice of society, if I may 
 stand for the world, as your companion has said, I 
 can only express my reverence for you and my hom 
 age to you in this way." 
 
 He stepped nearer to her, he seized her hand. He 
 was an old-fashioned, humble-minded, quixotic sort 
 of a sailor, if you will, for before anybody realized 
 what he was about, he bent his head low over it and 
 kissed it. And the sailors behind him and the 
 marines in rank broke into a hearty cheer. 
 
 "There, madam," said Whittaker, "you have the 
 approbation of society for my act. As for you, sir," 
 he turned toward Langford, " I should be untrue to 
 my manhood if I did not say what you yourself have 
 said; that you acted not only like a brute and a 
 coward, but, sir, when I look at the lady, I am con 
 strained to add like a fool." 
 
 236
 
 The Coming of the World 237 
 
 Langford started forward, but the lieutenant-com 
 mander checked him. 
 
 " Having said all that, I must admit that you have 
 conducted yourself since that time as a man of honor 
 and as a gentleman. I have no doubt but that your 
 offer will be accepted; that the world will forgive 
 you as it will admire and respect your wife." 
 
 " No ! " cried the man of the island suddenly. 
 
 He had kept silence, resolved to hear it all out 
 without interruption. He had suffered, as the miser 
 able story had been unfolded, to such an extent that 
 all that he had gone through before seemed like 
 child s play. He had heard Langford s noble con 
 fession, his generous offer to repair his wrong, but 
 without the appreciation of it which the circum-* 
 stances and its intrinsic quality might have evoked. 
 He had heard the woman s defense, her splendid 
 justification of her course, the bitter repentance that 
 had followed it, but without that appreciation of what 
 justification there was for her and the value of her 
 remorse which the account should have brought to 
 him. He had observed Whittaker s prompt and 
 touching expression of confidence and reverence, but 
 without understanding its force and power. Indeed, 
 he had instinctive shrewdness enough to realize that 
 even though the sailors, touched by the act of gal 
 lantry and moved with pity for the young woman 
 who stood there lovely in her misery, had cheered, 
 yet the world would be very slow to the same ex-
 
 238 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 pression. He saw that the woman was face to face 
 with a crisis ; that she would either have to accept or 
 decline Langford s offer to marry her at once. 
 
 His heart was filled with bitter rage. He knew 
 that he loved the woman; that he never would love 
 any person but the woman, but nevertheless the re 
 sentment against fate, which had placed him in so 
 awful a position, of whose malign purposes he had 
 been the blind, ignorant victim, was so great that 
 for the time being his love was in abeyance. He 
 pitied himself, he loathed Langford, he was con 
 temptuously indifferent to the world, and for the 
 moment he almost hated the woman. The subcon- 
 sciousness that possessed him that these feelings were 
 as ungrateful as they were unwarranted increased 
 his wretchedness and misery. 
 
 He had the passions of the savage and the civil 
 ized man at the same moment. He worshiped bar, 
 but he could have killed her then and there. In his 
 blind fury he could have killed them all. He could 
 have wished that the earth might open and swallow 
 him and all who stood upon it. Like Samson, he 
 could have pulled the pillars down upon the com 
 pany, though he brought the rocks of doom upon his 
 own head, and, like Samson, he was blind, blind with 
 passion, blind with unreasoning resentment, caught 
 in a net, striking out violently on every side, cut 
 ting a strand here and there, but feeling gener-
 
 The Coming of the World 239 
 
 ally like one who beats the air and knows not 
 upon what he strikes. He could keep silence no 
 longer. 
 
 " No," he cried, " before any answer is made, let 
 me speak! " 
 
 " Your pardon," said Whittaker, " may I ask 
 who and what you are? " 
 
 He spoke with a tone of authority that could not 
 be gainsaid. Indeed, he largely represented law 
 and order on this strange island. The power of 
 the United States was back of him; over his head 
 particularly flew the flag. In a certain sense this 
 was taking the shape of a judicial inquiry and it be 
 hooved him to be accurately informed ere he pre 
 sumed to pass judgment, to express a comment, or 
 to decide upon a course of action. 
 
 " Sir," returned the man, " as to who I am and 
 what I am, I do not know, nor does it greatly 
 matter." 
 
 Your pardon again," returned the lieutenant- 
 commander coolly, " but it matters very much. Un 
 less you have some right to interfere, I do not con 
 cede that any suggestion from you in this crisis, 
 which seems to concern these two people, this lady 
 and this gentleman, is at all in order." 
 
 " But it does concern me," returned the man, im 
 patient of this checking, " for I love this woman 
 myself, and she has done me the honor to say that
 
 240 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 she loved me. I had intended to make her my wife 
 should Providence ever bring us to civilization 
 again." 
 
 " Had intended ! " exclaimed the woman under her 
 breath, but no one noticed her words, for the lieu 
 tenant-commander spoke again. 
 
 "That being the case, some information as to 
 who you are and how you came here is the more 
 evidently in order." 
 
 " I can answer that," said the woman. " When I 
 landed on this island, I found this man here. He 
 had been here a long time. I believe he had been 
 cast away here as a child and had grown up alone. 
 He had no speech or language. He had no memory 
 of the past. His mind was a blank. I was glad to 
 find him here. He gave me occupation, companion 
 ship. I had been well educated. I determined to 
 teach him. I knew that his ignorance was the result 
 of his environment. I believed him to be naturally 
 acute. I found my beliefs warranted. I taught him 
 all that I could of life and letters from memory. 
 For three years my sole and only occupation has 
 been to teach him what I knew. No preceptor ever 
 had apter or more docile pupil." 
 
 " No learner ever sat at the feet of such a teacher," 
 cried the man, touched by the recollection. " Think, 
 men, all that I knew was a childish babble of prayer 
 which had remained in my memory. I was ignorant 
 of everything, even that I myself existed; that there
 
 The Coming of the World 241 
 
 was any difference between me and the palm tree or 
 yonder bird; that man was made in the image of his 
 God ; that there was such a thing as a woman upon 
 earth. I had no ideas of honor, or honesty, or purity, 
 or sweetness, or truth, or life, or God, until she 
 taught me. I believed in her as I believed in God, 
 and I loved her as I love sunlight and fresh air and 
 the sweet wind. I loved her, as I learned to love, 
 under her teaching, goodness and truth and every 
 virtue. And to think, to think, to think " he threw 
 up his hand in a wild gesture " that it has come to 
 this." 
 
 " And he taught me something, Mr. Whittaker," 
 said the woman. " He gave me back my faith in 
 manhood, which you " she swept Langford in a 
 bitter glance " had destroyed. He gave me back, 
 I think, my faith in God. He taught me many 
 things. And when two days ago an earthquake bur 
 ied me within the cave I call my home and he tore 
 the rocks asunder and freed me and caught me in 
 his arms, I knew that he had taught me what love 
 was, and as he has confessed before you all that he 
 loved me, that he did love me, I will confess the 
 same, and say that I at least have not changed in 
 this hour." 
 
 " Kate, Kate ! " cried Langford, " for God s sake, 
 think what you say and do ! " 
 
 " Sir," said Whittaker, turning to the man of the 
 island, " you are a very fortunate man."
 
 242 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " Of all on earth," was the bitter answer, " I can 
 not think there are any more miserable than I." 
 
 " Did you learn nothing of his past, Miss Bren- 
 ton?" asked Whittaker uncomfortably, unable to 
 answer this strange yet natural assertion. " Could 
 the man remember nothing?" 
 
 " I learned a great deal," returned the woman. 
 " In the cave which he had made his home and 
 which he has since yielded up to me . . ." 
 
 " Where is this cave? " 
 
 " On the other side of the island. You shall see 
 it presently. I found a Bible. There was a date 
 in it some thirty years back, and a name in it." 
 
 " What was the name? " 
 
 "John Revell Charnock." 
 
 " Of Virginia ? " asked Whittaker eagerly. 
 
 " I think so, although there was nothing but the 
 name and the date in the Bible." 
 
 " I know the Charnocks in Virginia. They came 
 from Nansemond County." 
 
 " It is a further confirmation," said the woman. 
 "With the Bible there was a little silver box con 
 taining a flint and steel by means of which " she 
 turned to Langford " we lighted that beacon which 
 brought you here this morning." 
 
 " It was my own eye caught the signal," answered 
 Langford. 
 
 " Would God I had died ere I gave it up to her ! " 
 interposed the man.
 
 The Coming of the World 243 
 
 " I insisted upon it. So soon as I realized this 
 man loved me, I told him I had a story to tell. I 
 knew it would bring sadness to his heart. I wanted 
 him to hear the voice of the world in comment upon 
 my relation, and I knew he would find it on yonder 
 ship." 
 
 " I was happy," said the man, " to go on as we 
 were. I should not have lighted that fire." 
 
 " Pray continue with your story, Miss Brenton," 
 said the lieutenant-commander. " I am deeply inter 
 ested in it. There is a great Charnock estate in 
 Virginia which has been held in trust for twenty-five 
 years or more by the last survivor of the ancient 
 family. And I remember some romantic story con 
 nected with it, too." 
 
 " The silver box that enclosed the flint and steel," 
 continued the woman, " was marked J. R. C. Ex 
 ploring the island I came upon the remains of a boat 
 buried in the sand. It lies off yonder and any of you 
 may examine it. Near the boat in yonder coppice 
 there were two skeletons, one of a woman and the 
 other of a dog. I excavated the boat, found that 
 it had belonged to the ship Nansemond of Virginia. 
 I have the stern-piece with the name painted on it in 
 my cave. I put the skeletons of the dog and the 
 woman in the boat and filled it up again with sand. 
 There they lie waiting Christian burial. The place 
 where they had died, the woman and her dog, I care 
 fully inspected. Everything but metal, and most
 
 244 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 of that, had rusted away, but I found two rings." 
 She stretched forth her hand. " They are here." 
 She stripped them off. " One of them is a wedding 
 ring. You see it is marked." She read the mark 
 ings off, "*J. R. C. to M. P. T., September 10, 
 1869, II Cor. xii-15- The verse of Scripture to 
 which reference is made is, / will very gladly spend 
 *nd be spent for you, though the more abundantly 
 I love you, the less I be loved. There was a piece 
 of silver also, which had evidently been part a dog 
 collar. It, too, was marked: John Revell Char- 
 nock His Dog, July 22, 1865. And that is all." 
 
 " Do you remember nothing of your early life, 
 nothing whatever, sir?" asked Whittaker, turning 
 to the man. 
 
 " I have a dim recollection of some sort of a sea 
 happening, of a long voyage with a woman and some 
 kind of an animal in an open boat, of horrible suf 
 ferings, of a few words of prayer; that is all." 
 
 " I think that this man, then a child," resumed the 
 woman, " and his mother must in some way have 
 been involved in a shipwreck, and that she and her 
 son and a dog must have been cast away on this 
 island; that the woman died and the child survived. 
 There is nothing here that would in any way harm 
 him, and his life and growth under such circumstances 
 and conditions are quite possible. He had probably 
 seen his mother read that Bible. He carried it with 
 him, put it in that cave and forgot it with the flint
 
 The Coming of the World 245 
 
 and steel in the silver box of which he would have no 
 knowledge and which he could not use. The dog 
 probably lived some time and when he died crawled 
 back to where his mistress lay and gave up his life 
 at her feet. And therefore I believe this man s 
 name to be John Revell Charnock; that he is an 
 American and that he came from Virginia. I know 
 him to be a Christian and a gentleman. In all the 
 days that we have been together on this island, he 
 has done me no wrong. He has been gentleness, 
 kindness, docility itself, and despite ourselves we 
 have learned to love each other. Until yesterday we 
 did not know it. Now it is for him to say what we 
 shall do." 
 
 " Kate, Kate," cried Langford, " you cannot let 
 this untutored savage . . ." 
 
 " Not that," said the woman, " for I have taught 
 him all I know and all I believe." 
 
 " You cannot let him decide this question," con 
 tinued the man, passing over her interruptions. 
 
 Yes," said the woman, "he must decide, but 
 whatever he decides, whatever the relationship be 
 tween this man and this woman is to be, I can never 
 be anything on earth to you." 
 
 "Don t say that," said Whittaker. "Think, my 
 dear lady, what you do, what this man offers you, 
 the position in which God forgive me ! you 
 stand." 
 
 " Sir," said the woman, addressing the lieutenant-
 
 246 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 commander, " this man wronged me grievously, ter 
 ribly. He deceived me. He broke my heart. He 
 killed ambition, aspiration, and respect for my own 
 kind within my soul. I know him through and 
 through. The fact that he failed quickened his pas 
 sion; the fact that men say I am beautiful made 
 him the more eager; the fact that he was away and 
 that he could not lay his hands upon me made him 
 the more insistent; the fact that I had flaunted him 
 and said him nay and struck him down made him 
 the more determined." 
 
 " Kate, Kate, you wrong me. Before God you 
 wrong me ! " interrupted Langford. 
 
 "And indeed, Madam, I believe you do," com 
 mented Whittaker. 
 
 " Let her speak on," said the man of the island. 
 
 " It may be that you are right," continued the 
 woman. " It may be that he is higher, nobler, 
 truer than I have fancied. I should be glad to be 
 able to think so. I am willing to take your view of 
 it, his assertion of it, but I do not love hm. Should 
 I marry him, I would bring to him a heart, a soul, 
 a body that turn to someone else. He could never 
 be anything to me. As I am a Christian woman, 
 a lover of my God and a follower of His Son, I 
 cannot see but that I would be adding one wrong 
 to another to come to this man in compliance with 
 any suggestion of the world, following any dictate 
 of society, subservient to any convention. I cannot
 
 The Coming of the World 247 
 
 see but that I would be doing as great a wrong in 
 obeying as I did before in flaunting all of these 
 forces. I have learned what love is and what mar 
 riage should be. I will not give my hand and yield 
 my person where I cannot yield my heart. And there 
 is no expiation or reparation that require it of me, no 
 voice that can coerce me into it. I will not marry 
 you, Valentine Langford. I will accept your expres 
 sion as evidenced by your words, by your presence 
 here, as testimony to your regret. Indeed, I realize 
 that your confession was itself a great humiliation 
 to a man like you. And perhaps I have spoken 
 harshly of it. But the bare fact remains, I do not 
 love you, I could not love you, I don t even want 
 to love you. My heart, my soul, goes to this man," 
 she turned to her companion of the island, " whom 
 up to to-day I have made and fashioned and taught 
 and trained until these hours when he has broken 
 away from me. I love this man who stands silent, 
 who thinks of me as a thing spotted, polluted, 
 damned. Him I love; though he slay me, yet will 
 I love him. Him I trust; though he disbelieve me, 
 yet will I love him. Him I serve; though he 
 cast me off, yet will I love him. And with this in 
 my heart in which I glory and which I confess as 
 openly and with as little hesitation as you confessed 
 your shame, I give you my final, absolute, utterly ir 
 revocable decision. I will not marry you, I will not 
 go back with you. No, not for anything that you
 
 248 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 can proffer, not for any reason that you can urge, 
 will I come to you when in my soul I belong to an 
 other. There may be no end to this but my despair. 
 This man may cast me off. This man may trample 
 me under foot. The spots upon my soul may loom 
 large in his view and hide what else is there. I 
 know that I have been forgiven by God. I may not 
 be forgiven by men, but I tell you here and now, 
 again and again, that I will not be your wife. I 
 will be his wife or no man s wife." 
 
 Langford turned away and hid his face in his 
 hands. Whittaker stepped forward and laid his hand 
 upon the shoulder of the man of the island. He 
 shook him for a moment. 
 
 " You stand immobile," he cried sharply, " after 
 such a confession as that, after such an appeal? 
 What have you to say, man ? You ought to get down 
 on your knees and thank God for the love of such 
 a woman." 
 
 " Aye, aye," burst out the deep-toned voice of the 
 old coxswain of the cutter. " So say all of us." 
 
 " God help me," cried the man, lifting his hand 
 and releasing his shoulder from the grasp of the 
 officer, " I did love this woman. Think how it was, 
 think how I believed in her. No Christian ever be 
 lieved in his God as I believed in her. She told me 
 what purity was, what innocence was, what sweetness 
 was, what light was, what truth was, and I looked at 
 her and saw them."
 
 The Coming of the World 249 
 
 " And you can look at her and see them now," 
 cried the officer. 
 
 " No," said the man, " I can never look at her 
 and see her the same." 
 
 " Oh, Man, Man ! " cried the woman. 
 
 The test was upon him. He was failing. Her 
 sorrow, her grief, were more for him than for her 
 self. 
 
 " Don t mistake me," said the man, " I can t help 
 loving you whatever you are. If you had been as 
 guilty as when he began to speak, and when you 
 corroborated him I fancied that you were. I should 
 have loved you just the same and I should have mar 
 ried you, and I shall marry you. This . . . this 
 awful thing has come between us, but we will try 
 in some way to live it down, to forget it, to go on 
 as we were." 
 
 He stepped toward the woman. 
 
 She drew herself up to her full height and looked 
 him unflinchingly in the face. 
 
 " No," she said, " we are not going on as we 
 thought. We will not marry and live together. We 
 will not bury this wretched happening in the past in 
 any oblivion. I will marry no man, although he 
 may have my whole heart, who is not proud and 
 glad to take me, who does not realize that I am as 
 pure and as innocent of wrong and shame as he 
 would fain think his mother, as he would absolutely 
 know his wife must be. I told you that your man-
 
 250 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 hood must be put to the test. I told you that your 
 love must be tried by fire. What I loved in you was 
 the assurance that you would survive the test, that 
 you would triumph in the trial. It is not I that have 
 been before the Great Judge this morning, but you, 
 and you have failed." 
 
 " Kate," said Langford, " he casts you off, take 
 me. I swear to you that were I in his place, I would 
 not have hesitated a moment." 
 
 " I respect you more than ever," said the woman, 
 " but I don t love you and I cannot, I will not take 
 you!" 
 
 " Charnock," said Whittaker, " if that s your 
 name, permit me to say here, saving the lady s pres 
 ence, that you are behaving like a damned fool." 
 
 The man looked at him dumbly, uncomprehend- 
 ingly, and made no reply. It was the woman who 
 spoke, coldly, impartially. She had seemingly dis 
 missed the whole affair, though at what a cost to 
 herself no one could know. 
 
 " Sir," she said, " is there anyone on your ship 
 empowered to administer an oath? " 
 
 " I have that power," answered the lieutenant- 
 commander. "Why do you ask?" 
 
 " I wish you would bring some of your officers 
 here with paper and ink. I wish to make a deposition 
 as to the facts that I have learned concerning this 
 man which may be of service to him in establishing
 
 The Coming of the World 251 
 
 his identity and discovering his history when he 
 returns to the United States." 
 
 " But are you not going back with us, Miss Bren- 
 ton?" asked the officer in amazement. "We are 
 sailing for Honolulu and thence for San Francisco 
 as directly as we can go." 
 
 " No," said the girl, " I will not leave the island. 
 You can take my friend here." 
 
 ;< The Southern Cross," said Langford, " is at 
 your disposal, Kate." 
 
 " I have had one voyage upon her," said the 
 woman bitterly, " I want never to see her again." 
 
 Woman," said the man of the island suddenly, 
 " if you stay here, I stay here. Without you, I will 
 not go." 
 
 "Not so," said the woman scornfully; "I would 
 not be upon the same island alone with you again. 
 You have failed me." 
 
 Her voice broke, but she caught it again instantly 
 and resumed her iron self-control. 
 
 Then if one of us must stay, it shall be I." 
 
 " No," said the woman, " I have been in the world 
 and you have not. You may go and learn what it 
 holds for you. I have tried to prepare you, to give 
 you lessons. Now, you may put them in practice." 
 
 " The island is mine," said the man. " I was here 
 when you came. I shall be here when you return." 
 
 " We shall see," returned the woman, looking
 
 252 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 boldly at him. The clash of wills almost struck fire 
 within the eyes of the two who thus crossed swords. 
 " Meanwhile," she turned to Langford, " if you will 
 leave the island and go back to your ship, I shall 
 be very glad. There is nothing you can do here. 
 You have nothing to gain by remaining." 
 
 " Kate," he cried, " one last appeal." 
 
 " It is as unavailing as the first." 
 
 She looked at him steadily. He saw that within 
 her face and bearing which convinced him that what 
 she said was true. 
 
 "At least," he said with the dignity of sorrow and 
 disappointment, "if I have played the fool, I have 
 done my best to play the man." 
 
 He turned slowly away. In a step the woman was 
 by his side. 
 
 You have," she said. " Whoever else has failed 
 me in this hour, it has not been you. I am sorry 
 that I do not love you, that I never did love you, 
 and that I cannot love you." She extended her hand 
 to him. " Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by," he said; "if you think of me, re 
 member that I did my best to make amends, and if 
 you ever change . ,. ,." 
 
 " I shall not change," said the woman. " Good- 
 by." 
 
 He moved off down the strand, called his sailors 
 to him, got into his boat, shoved off and was rowed
 
 The Coming of the World 253 
 
 over the blue lagoon and through the opening in 
 the barrier toward the yacht tossing slowly upon 
 the long swells of the Pacific. 
 
 "As for you, sir," said the woman after she had 
 watched Langford a little while in silence, " will you 
 go back and bring some officers ashore to hear my 
 story?" 
 
 " At your wish, Miss Brenton," said the lieutenant- 
 commander gravely. 
 
 The woman turned to her companion. 
 
 "Will you go with them?" 
 
 "And leave you here alone?" cried the man. 
 
 " I shall be here when you come back, I give you 
 my word upon it. I do not break my word. You 
 know whatever else you may have against me, I 
 have always told you the truth. If you will remem 
 ber, I said but yesterday that I was not worthy of 
 you." 
 
 She smiled bitterly. 
 
 " And in that, madam," said Whittaker, " give me 
 leave to say that you broke your record for veracity." 
 
 " Tis good of you to say so," she returned. " Be 
 lieve me, I have taken more comfort from your 
 words and actions in this dreadful hour than I had 
 dreamed it possible for men to give. Now, if you 
 will all go away and leave me and not come back 
 until evening, I shall be so glad and so thankful." 
 
 " Come, sir," said the lieutenant-commander, not
 
 254 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 unkindly, touching the man upon the shoulder, " as 
 a gentleman you cannot do less than accede to the 
 lady s request." 
 
 Suffering himself thus to be persuaded, the man 
 followed the officer into the boat in which the whole 
 party embarked and was rowed away from the is 
 land. His first touch with the world had separated 
 him from the woman he loved and who loved him. 
 Nay, his own frightful folly, his own blindness, his 
 own criminal and heartless decision had done that. 
 And the world upon which humanity loves to load 
 the blame of its transgressions and with which it 
 would fain share the consequences of its own follies, 
 had nothing whatever to do with it. In fact, it 
 was because he was so ignorant of the world, so 
 utterly unable to see things in their relative values 
 and in relation we ascertain truth that he had 
 taken the tone that he had used and entered upon the 
 course which he had followed. 
 
 He could only see one thing, that this woman 
 whom he supposed belonged as completely and en 
 tirely and absolutely to him, who was as fresh and 
 unspotted from the world as he was, who had been 
 his own even as he had belonged entirely and ut 
 terly and absolutely to her, was . . . different ! 
 That the difference was more in his own imagination 
 than anywhere else brought him no comfort. He 
 still loved her, he still wanted to marry her, but he 
 loved her in spite of her shame. A greater, a wiser
 
 The Coming of the World 255 
 
 man would have loved her because of it. And some 
 day this fact, which he himself was inherently large 
 enough to realize, or would be after a time, would 
 cause him a grief so great that the anguish that he 
 suffered now would be nothing. 
 
 Whittaker was a man of great tact and shrewdness 
 and one with a wide knowledge of the world. He 
 realized something of what was in the man s mind. 
 He saw in some measure how the situation presented 
 itself to him, and he felt a deep kindness and pity 
 toward his unhappy fellow passenger.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 DIVIDED 
 
 THE best thing on earth for a man in the islander s 
 position would have been isolation and a chance to 
 think it over. The worst thing on earth for a woman 
 in the islander s position was isolation and a chance 
 to think it over. If the man had been enabled by 
 lack of outside interests to give free rein to his 
 thoughts and let them draw him whither they would, 
 he might have arrived at a different view point 
 whence he could have enjoyed a sight of the affair 
 in all its bearings and could have adjusted him 
 self to them, but the opportunity he needed he did 
 not get. He was immediately plunged in an atmos 
 phere of such strangeness to him, filled with such 
 compelling necessity for attention, that although he 
 loathed the necessity thus imposed upon him, he was 
 constrained to take part in the life that flowed around 
 him. His instinct and he was almost a woman in 
 his instinctive capacity was to be alone, but it 
 was impossible, and in spite of himself, what he saw 
 distracted him. The people that he met did more. 
 Whittaker hustled him below, of course, as soon 
 as possible and took him into his own cabin. For 
 tunately they were men of much the same height and 
 build, although the islander was the more graceful, 
 
 256
 
 The Coming of the World 257 
 
 symmetric, and strong, and he succeeded in getting 
 him into a civilian suit of clothing for which he had 
 no present use. There was both loss and gain in 
 his appearance. There was no gain in the islander s 
 feelings, at least he thought not, in view of the irk 
 some restraint of clothing, and yet there was a cer 
 tain satisfaction to his soul in being no longer singled 
 out from among his fellows by the strangeness of 
 his apparel. As clothes the garments became him, 
 and it all depended upon your point of view as to 
 whether you preferred the handsome barbarian with 
 a hint of civilization in his carriage, or the civilized 
 gentleman with a suggestion of the barbaric in his 
 bearing. Whittaker reasoned rightly that the sooner 
 he became accustomed to these things, the better, 
 and that the time to begin was immediately. 
 
 He had had a hasty word or two with the captain 
 before he took him below, and when he was dressed 
 and it required much assistance from the lieutenant- 
 commander ere the unfamiliar habiliments were prop 
 erly adjusted the two passed from the ward room 
 to the cabin of the captain in the after part of the 
 ship. 
 
 The few sentences in which Whittaker had made 
 his first brief report to his superior had in a measure 
 prepared the captain for the more lengthy discourse 
 that followed, and feeling that the situation was one 
 which required more than the simple authority of 
 the master of a ship, he had summoned to confer-
 
 258 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 ence the surgeon and the chaplain. It was to these 
 three men, therefore, that Whittaker and the is 
 lander presented themselves. 
 
 The chaplain, like Whittaker, was a Virginian. 
 He had not noted the islander s face when he came 
 aboard in his semi-savage garb, but as his eye dwelt 
 upon him standing clothed and in his right mind be 
 fore him, he gave a start of surprise, and so soon 
 as the formal salutations had been exchanged, with 
 a word to the captain for permission, he asked 
 Whittaker a question. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Whittaker, but what is 
 this gentleman s name?" 
 
 The word gentleman was used naturally and un 
 consciously, with an absolute sense of its fitness, as 
 everyone in the cabin could perceive. 
 
 " It is not definitely known," said Whittaker, 
 "but he is believed to be a Virginian of the . . ." 
 
 " I knew it," said the chaplain impulsively, " he 
 is one of the Charnocks of Nansemond County." 
 
 1 Your recognition, chaplain," said the lieutenant- 
 commander eagerly, " will be of great value in de 
 termining this stranger s name and station. The evi 
 dence of it is all circumstantial. I do not know how 
 it will be regarded in a court of law." 
 
 " I have always understood that the Charnock es 
 tate was a vast one," said Captain Ashby, " and since 
 coal has been mined on the Virginian lands, it has 
 become very valuable."
 
 The Coming of the World 259 
 
 " It is true," answered the chaplain. 
 
 " Who holds it now? " asked the surgeon. 
 
 " It is held by an old man, my friend of many 
 years standing, the brother of John Revell Char- 
 nock." 
 
 " I believe that to be my name," said the islander. 
 
 " I have little doubt of it," replied the chaplain, 
 continuing. u The first John Revell Charnock was 
 lost at sea. He and his wife and young child some 
 thirty years ago set forth on a voyage around the 
 world for her health. The ship, in which I believe 
 he had some ownership, was called the Nansemond. 
 Its course was traced as far as Valparaiso, thence 
 it sailed for the Philippines and was never heard of 
 again. I know the story," said the chaplain, turning 
 toward the captain, " because John Revell Charnock 
 was one of my best friends, as is his brother, Philip 
 Norton Charnock, who now holds the estate." 
 
 " Is the present Charnock married? " 
 
 " No," returned the chaplain, " he is an old 
 bachelor." 
 
 That will make is easier for our friend here," 
 said Mr. Whittaker, " provided the evidence is 
 thought convincing." 
 
 The best evidence that he could present," re 
 turned the chaplain, " is in his face. He is the liv 
 ing image of his father as I knew him, and he has 
 family characteristics which I think would enable 
 almost anyone to identify him without question."
 
 260 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " Sir," said the islander, addressing the chaplain, 
 " did you know my mother? " 
 
 That I did," returned the old man. " Her name 
 was Mary Page Thorton, and she was one of the 
 sweetest girls in Virginia." 
 
 " And will you tell me about her and about my 
 father and my people?" 
 
 "With the greatest pleasure," said the chaplain 
 kindly. " Meanwhile Captain A shby and these gen 
 tlemen will wish to hear your story." 
 
 Take him to your cabin," said the captain 
 promptly, " and tell him the things he wants to 
 know. We can wait." 
 
 " No," returned the islander, " I can wait. I have 
 waited all these years, and a few hours more or less 
 will make little difference. You have a right to 
 know my story, and here it is." 
 
 Rapidly, concisely, with a fine dramatic touch, he 
 told the story as he knew it of his life on the island. 
 He was so entirely unconventional that he inter 
 wove the bare details of the strange relation which 
 he gave them with personal touches. He made no 
 secret of his love and worship for the girl, of the 
 belief in her which he had cherished, of the reverence 
 in which he had held her. He exhibited that strange 
 commixture of feeling with w r hich he regarded her 
 as a human woman and as a demi-goddess. He 
 showed that he was at once her master and her crea 
 ture, yet through it all there ran such a thread of
 
 The Coming of the World 261 
 
 bitterness, of grief, of resentment, of shame, that 
 his auditors, at first unpossessed of the key to his 
 feelings, listened to him with amazement and could 
 scarce realize or comprehend. He told the story of 
 the two lives up to the sighting of the ship upon 
 the island, and then, his heart failing him, he 
 turned to Whittaker and bade him take up the 
 relation. 
 
 It was a delicate matter of which to speak, but 
 the simplicity with which the first part of the tale had 
 been presented gave the officer his clew. He was a 
 man of retentive memory, of quick apprehensive 
 power, and with a nice sense of discrimination, a 
 rare man indeed. And he told the rest of the tale 
 with a subtle sympathy for the situation and the 
 actors that enabled him so to present it to the inter 
 ested little group of officers that he almost made 
 them see it as it transpired. 
 
 " And what," asked the captain when the final 
 word had been said, " do you propose to do now, 
 Mr. Charnock?" 
 
 It was the first time that he had been so addressed, 
 and the man started. He had heard Mr. Whittaker s 
 words as one in a dream. He had been going over 
 that dreadful scene on the sands. His heart was 
 lacerated and torn again. He was blind to every 
 thing but the past. He saw her face dimly in the 
 present. He could see nothing of happiness in the 
 future.
 
 262 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " I don t know," he answered. 
 
 " But surely this has not made any difference in 
 your feelings?" 
 
 " I can t tell. The difference is in her, not in 
 me." 
 
 " She made a frightful mistake," said the 
 captain impressively, " but she has nobly atoned, 
 and . . ." 
 
 " She s not what I thought she was," said the 
 man, " and if I love her, I love her now not be 
 cause, but in spite, of what she is, and there is a 
 difference." 
 
 " Miss Brenton," interposed Whittaker, at this 
 juncture, " has settled the matter herself. She says 
 that she will have no man s pity, no man s contempt, 
 that no man shall marry her on sufferance, and 
 that ..." 
 
 " Right," said the surgeon, who was a man of 
 very few words and generally good ones. 
 
 " My young friend," broke in the chaplain, " if 
 I might advise 
 
 " But this," returned the islander with fierceness, 
 " is not a matter for advice. I don t know the world 
 or its customs. I must appear strange to you men. 
 But I take it that a man s choice of a wife, a man s 
 settlement of his future, is not a thing that he 
 brooks counsel over. At any rate, I want none of 
 it." 
 
 "Come with me," said the chaplain, "we will
 
 The Coming of the World 263 
 
 talk it over. I have lived in the world," he went on 
 gently. " Perhaps I can help you. Have we your 
 permission to withdraw, Captain Ashby?" 
 
 " Certainly," said the captain. 
 
 " Pardon me a moment, chaplain," interposed 
 Whittaker, " but the young lady has asked that some 
 of us go ashore to take her deposition as to the 
 matters that have been alleged concerning our friend 
 here. Captain Ashby, will you?" 
 
 "Certainly, Mr. Whittaker, I will go. And if 
 you will accompany me, doctor, and you, chaplain, 
 I shall be glad. Mr. Whittaker, you are a notary 
 public and can administer the necessary oaths." 
 
 " Very good, sir," returned Mr. Whittaker as 
 the other gentlemen mentioned bowed their ac 
 quiescence; "the lady said she would like to be un 
 disturbed until evening." 
 
 " At two bells in the first dog watch then have 
 the cutter called away," returned the captain. 
 
 "Beg pardon, captain," said the surgeon, "but 
 do you or any of you know this lady to be Miss 
 Brenton?" 
 
 " No," said the captain, " I don t know her. Do 
 you, Mr. Whittaker, or you, chaplain? " 
 
 " Well then," said the surgeon as both the officers 
 shock their heads, " it will be necessary to have some 
 one ashore who does know her in order to swear 
 to her identity to make her deposition worth any* 
 thing."
 
 264 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " There is Langford," said Whittaker, " he knows 
 her." 
 
 " Very good," said the captain, " send a boat over 
 to the yacht and present my compliments to Mr. 
 Langford. Ask him if he will meet us ashore at 
 quarter after five o clock. Say to him also that I 
 should be glad to have him dine with me to-night at 
 seven. Chaplain, will you and Mr. Charnock take 
 luncheon with me later?" 
 
 Now, to go back to the island. The woman stood 
 on the strand proudly, resolutely, sternly erect with 
 out a sign of unbending until the boats reached the 
 sides of the two ships. Even then she kept herself 
 in the bonds of a control of steel. She turned slowly, 
 walked up the beach, entered the grove of palms, me 
 chanically found the path and plodded along it, still 
 erect and unbending, until the windings of the trail 
 and the thickening of the grove hid her from any 
 chance watchers on the ship. 
 
 Then came the moment of yielding. As if the 
 tension had been suddenly released, she reeled, stag 
 gered, her heart almost stopped. Her instinct was 
 to throw herself prone upon the grass, but she re 
 covered herself in time, and with the natural inclina 
 tion of the troubled toward the place, however rude 
 and humble it may be, that is called home, she sum 
 moned her strength and dragged herself on through 
 the trees over the hill whence a backward glance 
 would have given her a sight of the ships, but she
 
 The Coming of the World 265 
 
 never took it down the other slope across the beach 
 and to the cave which had been her haven for these 
 three years. 
 
 Then and not until then did she give way com 
 pletely. She threw herself down upon the sand in 
 the cool shadow of the great rocks in what to her 
 had suddenly become a weary land, and outstretched 
 her arms as if to clasp the earth to her breast in 
 default of the man she had dreamed of and trusted, 
 she had loved and lived for, and lay there a silent, 
 shuddering, wretched figure. 
 
 She was conscious, never more so, of her own 
 entire innocence, of her own purity of soul. Into 
 her heart had entered nothing that had defiled her, 
 and out of it nothing of that ilk had come. And yet 
 there was a soiling bodily consciousness in her mind. 
 The terrible interviews of the morning had brought 
 it all back. Her fingers clenched and unclenched. 
 
 Langford had craved opportunity for expiation. 
 He had offered amends. She could not but believe 
 that his heart was in his words. But what amends 
 could there be? What expiation could he offer? 
 Not all the waters of the blue Pacific could wash out 
 the damned spots that loomed so black and so huge 
 before the eyes of the one man in whose vision she 
 would fain be sweet and pure and innocent. 
 
 She had thought bitterly in times gone past, when 
 she had realized her situation, of the voice of the 
 world. She had insisted that he should not think of
 
 266 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 any future relationship to her until he had heard the 
 voice of the world. She had believed that the 
 world s voice would condemn her; that the world 
 would disbelieve her; that the world would see no 
 possibility of sweetness and light in her; that its 
 mockery and its scorn would be hurled upon her; 
 that its cry would be "Away with her! " 
 
 But she had believed that he would be different; 
 that he would see that she had been sinned against 
 rather than sinning; that she had been led astray by 
 a false philosophy for which in large measure her 
 training and heredity had been responsible; that the 
 step she had taken involved no moral turpitude 
 and carried no evil consequences. She had made 
 him, God and she together. In him she believed. 
 She had spoken of a test, but in a last analysis she 
 would have taken him without the test, confident in 
 his love and in his acquittal of her if her cause 
 should ever be pleaded before the bar of his judg 
 ment. 
 
 He and the world, the one to sustain her, the 
 other to despise her; this she had expected, and in 
 both instances she had been grievously mistaken. If 
 Whittaker and his men represented the voice of the 
 world and there was no reason why she should be 
 lieve that they did not the world would withhold 
 denunciation; it would extend pity. Pity was not 
 particularly agreeable to a proud woman such as 
 she was, but at least it was not bitter censure and
 
 The Coming of the World 267 
 
 scorn, which was, after all, what she had received 
 from the man in whom she trusted. 
 
 She did not make any allowance for the man at 
 that moment. It might have been thought strange 
 that she had developed such a deep, pervading pas 
 sion for him. She had loved not merely his actual 
 ities but his potentialities, which with prescient eye 
 she had divined. She knew, or thought she knew, of 
 what this man was capable. And now in the first 
 moment of trial he had shown himself unworthy. 
 It is true he still wanted to marry her; he was still 
 willing to do so. But she had refused Langford s 
 offer, which ninety-nine women in a hundred in her 
 position would have jumped at, because she would 
 not give a man her hand where her heart did not go; 
 she could not, as she had said, see that that which 
 she would regard as crime could make anything else 
 that had transpired right. Neither would she ac 
 cept anything from her island companion which did 
 not carry his whole heart. She would be nothing to 
 the one man unless she loved him, and the other man 
 should be nothing to her unless she seemed to him the 
 supremest thing in this world. 
 
 She had had many hours to herself in that long 
 island sojourn, and the sweetest thought that had 
 come to her had been the relationship in which she 
 stood to this man. She had gloried in the position 
 in which he had placed her. She had stood at ease 
 and happy on the pedestal upon which he had en~
 
 268 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 throned her. And now to be toppled over, to be 
 thrown at his feet as it were, to receive the charity 
 of his condescension rather than the uprush of his 
 adoration she could not endure it. 
 
 Her crushing disappointment at his failure to rise 
 to the measure of her ideal of him, the total end of 
 her dream of happiness, the breaking of all her 
 hopes, the closing of all her ambitions, the tearing 
 asunder of her heartstrings, whelmed her in agony. 
 She had thought that never could humanity experi 
 ence more than the pain superinduced by the horror 
 of her position upon the ship, but that pain to the 
 present was like a caress. For to all that old 
 horror was added a new sense of loss, of disappoint 
 ment and despair. She had not loved before; now 
 she did, and the sorrow and anguish were measured 
 by the depth and power of her passion. The period 
 on the yacht had been an episode. This was life, 
 eternal life or death, she thought. And it shows 
 the power of the episode that it had colored and 
 would color was it darkly? all the future. 
 
 That Christian philosophy which she had fondly 
 believed she had acquired and in which O fatal er 
 ror! she had somehow taken pride, fell from her 
 like every other quality, good or bad, that is de 
 veloped alone. It had lacked exercise. She, too, had 
 submitted to no tests since she had come to the is 
 land. She had surmounted no temptations. She 
 had fought no battles. She had not become a veteran
 
 The Coming of the World 269 
 
 by conquest. She had not perfected her offensive 
 and defensive weapons by a series of smaller con 
 flicts which would give her confidence and courage 
 to fight the great and final battle. Like Elijah of 
 old, dismayed, disheartened, broken, she prayed that 
 she might die, there on the sands.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE MAN S FAILURE 
 
 AT five o clock a boat put off from the big white 
 cruiser, conveying the islander, the captain, the other 
 officers, and Langford to the shore. The woman met 
 them on the sand. She had discarded her woven 
 tunic and was dressed in the faded blue blouse and 
 skirt she had worn when she had left the yacht and 
 which she had ever since preserved with such scrupu 
 lous care for an emergency like this. Well was it for 
 her that the garments were loose and easy fitting, else 
 she could not have put them on, so splendidly had 
 she developed in waist and chest and limb. She 
 wore stockings and shoes, and, save for a certain 
 natural elegance and freedom in her bearing, she 
 looked much as any other woman, except that few 
 women were so beautiful as she. 
 
 The man was greatly surprised. He had never 
 seen her in this dress with any conscious recollection 
 of the fact. She had had wit enough to perceive that 
 having chosen a costume she must stick to it, and she 
 had never after worn her civilized clothes, never even 
 alluded to them, and as he had never entered her 
 cave after he had begun to understand and notice 
 things, he had not even suspected her of the posses 
 sion of them. It seemed a different woman, there 
 fore, who met him on the strand, one that he did 
 
 270
 
 The Coming of the World 271 
 
 not know, that he did not understand. Some of the 
 ways of social life which had been discarded had 
 come back to her with her dress. 
 
 On her part she was scarcely less susprised than he. 
 She had often imagined what he might look like in 
 garments common to his sex and period, but her 
 imaginings had not prepared her for what she saw. 
 Convention did not ill become him. If she had 
 loved him in the wild and savage dress they had been 
 compelled to assume, she did not love him less when 
 she saw him measured by his fellows in the garments 
 natural and peculiar to them. He towered above all 
 the party except Whittaker, and even the lieutenant- 
 commander was not the man that her lover was, she 
 thought. Her lover? . . . She wondered. 
 
 Her face, always colorless, was paler than ever. 
 Something of the anguish that she had gone through 
 was seen there by the keen eyes of Whittaker at least, 
 and even the others could notice the strong constraint 
 she put upon herself, and the evidences of self-re 
 straint were painfully apparent. 
 
 After a momentary hesitation and a glance at the 
 islander, who, after his first swift comprehending 
 survey of the woman, stood with averted head she 
 conscious painfully of his every gesture and move 
 ment the lieutenant-commander performed the nec 
 essary introductions. This ceremony over, it was the 
 woman who spoke. 
 
 " I sent for you, gentlemen," she began, " in order
 
 272 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 that a necessary deposition might be made to enable, 
 if possible, my . . ." she paused and bowed 
 formally toward the islander " this gentleman, to 
 establish his identity, upon which, as I learn from 
 Mr. Whittaker, much seems to depend. I have 
 here . . ." 
 
 " But could you not do this more conveniently later 
 on the ship, Miss Brenton?" interposed the captain. 
 He had been told that she intended to stay on the 
 island, but he could not believe it. " We shall be 
 very glad indeed to offer you passage home. The 
 ship is fitted for a flag, and the admiral s quarters 
 are yours to command. We are sailing direct to the 
 United States, with a stop at Honolulu, and will be 
 glad to restore you to your friends." 
 
 " Sir," said the woman, " I have no friends who 
 care enough about me to welcome me or whom I 
 care enough about to wish to see. My mind is made 
 up. I shall stay on the island, at least for the 
 present." 
 
 " But, my dear young lady," began the officer. 
 
 "Captain Ashby," said the woman, "you are the 
 commander of that ship? " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 To you is committed the ordering of her 
 course? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 You decide all questions connected with her on 
 your own responsibility?"
 
 The Coming of the World 273 
 
 " I do, certainly, but . . ." 
 
 " Sir, this is my ship, this island. If I choose to 
 stay here, I cannot think you will endeavor to take 
 me hence by force." 
 
 " By no means." 
 
 " Nor have I any more fondness for having my 
 decisions discussed than you would have for hearing 
 your orders argued or questioned." 
 
 " It is my island," cried the man roughly, " and if 
 you stay, I stay." 
 
 "We lose time," said the woman shortly. " I am 
 here to give my testimony; are you prepared to take 
 it?" 
 
 " I am," said the lieutenant-commander, stepping 
 forward, note book in hand. 
 
 " Captain, will you conduct the necessary in 
 quiry? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the captain. " Mr. Langford, 
 do you identify this lady?" 
 
 " I do, sir," answered Langford. " She is Miss 
 Katharine Brenton of San Francisco." 
 
 You say this of your own personal knowledge? " 
 
 11 Yes, sir." 
 
 " You will make affidavit to that fact? " 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 " I wondered," said the woman bitterly, " why you 
 came back." 
 
 " It was at my wish, madam," returned Captain 
 Ashby formally.
 
 274 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 He was not greatly prepossessed with the impera 
 tive manner and demeanor of this young woman, but 
 he did not see exactly how he could resent it, or force 
 any improvement in it. " Will you proceed now 
 with your story," he continued. " Will you speak 
 slowly so that Mr. Whittaker, who does not writt 
 shorthand, can take it down?" 
 
 Thereupon the woman told that portion of her tale 
 which related to the evidence which she exhibited, the 
 piece of the boat with the name of the ship upon it, 
 the dog collar, the silver box, the Bible, the two 
 rings. These were marked, set down and sworn to. 
 The affidavit to which she subscribed her name and 
 to which she took oath on the very Bible of the 
 island was brief, though comprehensive, and the little 
 ceremony was soon over. Mr. Whittaker assumed 
 charge of all the exhibits except the Bible, which the 
 woman expressed a desire to retain until the next 
 morning. The tale having been completed and all 
 these formalities being got through with, the men 
 stood around in awkward silence wondering what 
 was next to be done. 
 
 " Miss Brenton," said the captain, at last breaking 
 the pause, " it seems a shame. For God s sake, re 
 consider your decision and come off to the ship ! " 
 
 " No," returned the woman quietly, " my mind is 
 made up." 
 
 " Katharine," exclaimed Langford, extending his 
 hand in one final appeal.
 
 The Coming of the World 
 
 " Not with you, either," said the woman. 
 
 " My dear young lady," began the old chaplain, 
 " think what it is you do. Has any human being 
 with such powers as you possess a right to bury her 
 self in this lonely island? Is there no call . . ." 
 
 " Sir," the woman interposed, " your plea might 
 move me if anything could, but indeed tis as useless 
 as the rest." 
 
 " Hear mine then," said the man abruptly, even 
 harshly. 
 
 The woman turned and faced him as unrelenting 
 and as determined as she had faced the others. 
 What could he say? There was but one plea that 
 could move her. Was he about to make that? 
 
 " We have loved each other," he went on brok 
 enly. " It was my dearest wish, my most settled 
 determination, to make you my wife if the opportun 
 ity ever presented. That wish I still entertain, that 
 determination has not departed from me. You have 
 refused to marry that man . . ." 
 
 " And would you have me do so?" asked the 
 woman. 
 
 " No, a thousand times no. I am sorrier every 
 moment that I look at him that I did not kill him. 
 But having refused him, there is nothing now that 
 you can do but marry me. And as you have refused 
 him, it makes it more incumbent upon me to marry 
 you and to take you away. Your honor demands it. * 
 
 " My honor ! " flamed out the woman indignantly.
 
 276 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " I have said it," returned the man doggedly. 
 
 " Gentlemen, you will forgive our frankness," said 
 the woman, turning to the little group, who waited, 
 all except Langford, who had walked away out of 
 earshot and who resolutely kept his back toward the 
 party, " but this thing has to be settled. Now," said 
 the woman, "here is no question of honor, but of 
 love. I ask you, Man, do you love me as you did 
 last night? " 
 
 " I . . ." he began falteringly. 
 
 You have never told me a lie," she continued. 
 You have never known anything but the truth." 
 
 " Until I learned from you," cried the man, " what 
 you had concealed." 
 
 The woman smiled bitterly, waving aside this cruel 
 stab. 
 
 " Tell me the truth. Do you love me as you did 
 last night?" 
 
 " If you will have it, no," said the man, rushing 
 to his doom. 
 
 Men have taken a bullet in the breast, a shot in 
 the heart, and for a moment have maintained their 
 erect position. The woman knew in that moment 
 how such things could be. 
 
 "But I love you still," said the man. "And I 
 still want you for my wife." 
 
 " Last night," went on the woman as if in a dream, 
 "I seemed to you the embodiment of every excellence 
 that humanity can possess short of the divine."
 
 The Coming of the World 277 
 
 " Yes," said the man, " I loved you as . . ." 
 
 " Do I still possess those qualities in your eyes?" 
 
 He hesitated. He strove to speak. 
 
 " The truth ! The truth ! " whispered the woman. 
 " Nothing else, so help your God ! " 
 
 " No," said the man, " but I love you still, and you 
 ought to marry me, you must. Can t you under 
 stand?" 
 
 " Listen," said the woman fiercely. " I did not 
 go to that man yonder although he offered me every 
 thing that honor could dictate and that true affection 
 could suggest, I do believe, because I did not love 
 him, although I have since come to respect him after 
 I have thought it over. It is not duty, but love, 
 which is the compelling motive in this matter. And 
 I won t take you, I would not take an angel from 
 heaven unless he thought me in every particular all 
 that a woman should be to a man, unless he loved me 
 with his whole heart and soul absolutely, unfeignedly, 
 completely. You don t. I don t even think that I 
 love you now. You have been tried and tested, and 
 you have failed. Gentlemen, will you take him 
 away? " 
 
 " I stay here," said the man bluntly, drawing apart 
 from the others, "and I will kill with my own hands 
 the man who lays finger upon me." 
 
 " Sir," said the captain, " this land, I take it, is 
 the United States. As the ranking officer present, I 
 represent its law. It is under my rule. As to your
 
 278 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 choice, I have nothing to say, but as far as regards 
 other things, you will have to obey me here as any 
 other citizen of our country." 
 
 "And I know nothing of the United States or its 
 laws," answered the man proudly, " I am a law unto 
 myself." 
 
 The first lesson that the world will teach you, 
 sir," returned the captain pointedly, " is that that 
 position cannot be maintained; that the whole fabric 
 of civilization depends upon concession by individuals 
 of natural rights, and upon the enforcement of these 
 concessions by other individuals to whom has been 
 delegated that power." 
 
 " I don t wish to learn it, and that is why I will not 
 leave this island," persisted the man. 
 
 It was the woman who intervened. She stepped 
 close to the man and laid her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " You said that in some fashion you loved me, * 
 she urged. 
 
 " In some fashion I do," he replied. 
 
 " It grows late. Captain, can your ship lie by the 
 island until morning?" 
 
 " If you wish, certainly," returned the captain. 
 
 " Very well. Man, will you then go aboard the 
 ship with these gentlemen and leave me alone here 
 for the night? " 
 
 " Alone, madam 1 " exclaimed the captain. 
 
 " Certainly, sir," returned the woman. "There is 
 not a harmful thing upon the island. You can come
 
 The Coming of the World 279 
 
 back in the morning and we will discuss then what 
 is best to be done. Really, gentlemen," she went on 
 with a piteous tremble of her lip, for one moment 
 losing her control, " I have been tried beyond the 
 strength of woman to-day. If I can have a quiet 
 rest, if in the morning . . ." 
 
 " That is reasonable," said the surgeon. " The 
 lady is in no state for this discussion, nor indeed 
 are you, sir," he continued, looking hard at the 
 man. 
 
 " Very well," said the captain. " Come, Mr. 
 Charnock, you cannot refuse that request; gentlemen. 
 Madam, good-night." 
 
 He turned away, followed by the others. Char- 
 nock for the moment hesitated. 
 
 u I give you one more chance," whispered the 
 woman in his ear. " I think myself fit for the wife 
 of any man; do you think so? Do you love me? Do 
 you care for me as you did last night? Can you 
 think of me as all that is sweet and lovely and noble 
 and pure, and worthy of any man s affection? " 
 
 She bent closer toward him in the intensity of her 
 feelings. The words rushed from her. The man 
 passed his hand over his forehead. 
 
 " I can only say what I said before, that I do love 
 you still, that I will marry you, and that you ought 
 to be . . ." 
 
 " That is enough," interrupted the woman. 
 "Good-by."
 
 280 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She drew instantly apart from him. 
 
 " Mr. Charnock," rang the captain s voice impera 
 tively. 
 
 Slowly the islander turned and made his way to 
 the sea after the others. 
 
 The woman thus left alone upon the island was 
 face to face with a crisis which could only be met in 
 two ways. Either she must go away with the man, 
 or they must both remain on the island. It was pos 
 sible that the captain might be induced to use force 
 to take the man away, but that was not likely, and if 
 it were attempted, she believed, with much founda 
 tion for her belief, that the man who had never been 
 coerced by a human being except by her would fight 
 until he died. She could not go away with him ; she 
 could not live with him on the island. A future 
 opened before him. She had learned that afternoon 
 on the sand that if his identity could be established, 
 he would be a man of great wealth, a power, a factor 
 in the world s affairs. She had had her experience 
 in life, her taste of power. It did not matter about 
 her. It mattered greatly about him. 
 
 She had given him a final chance. He did not love 
 her as she would be loved. He could not love her. 
 It was evident to her that he never would. She had 
 nothing to live for, nothing to hope for, nothing to 
 dream about. There was one way of cutting the 
 Gordian knot; she could die. And yet somehow the 
 instinct of life was strong in her heart.
 
 The Coming of the World 281 
 
 She crossed the island to her side, where she was 
 hidden from the ship, and went down to the edge of 
 the water. She even slipped off the garments of 
 civilization and stood forth a primitive Eve and 
 waded out a little way into the lagoon. The night 
 had fallen and she was calm in the screen of the dark 
 ness. She could easily swim out to the barrier reef, 
 clamber upon it, and then plunge into the blue Pacific 
 and swim on and on, and fight and fight until the last 
 vestige of her strength was gone, and then sink 
 down, leaving him free and settling the question. 
 And yet the waters lapping about her feet retarded 
 her in her advance, held her back, drove her back. 
 
 Could she do it? Should she do it? At least she 
 would not give up the idea for want of trying. She 
 resolutely set herself to wade into the deeper sea. 
 That she waded was evidence of her indecision. 
 Under other circumstances, or had she been clear in 
 her mind as to her course, a quick run, a spring, a 
 splash, and she would have been in the midst of the 
 lagoon. She went slowly, and as the water grew 
 deeper, she went more slowly. It was warm and 
 pleasant in the lagoon. The slight difference of 
 temperature between the water and the air ordinarily 
 was only stimulating. And yet the sea had never 
 seemed so cold to her as it was in that hour. 
 
 She was young, strong, splendidly dowered with 
 health and bodily vigor. The mere animal clinging 
 to life was intense in her. It does not minimize her
 
 282 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 heartbreak or her resolution to settle the question 
 that she found it hard to go on. By and by she 
 stopped, the waters now up to her breast. The wind 
 blew gently toward the land and the land waves 
 struck her softly and beat her back. She stopped 
 dead still and thought and thought, wrestling with 
 her problem, full of passionate disappointment, vain 
 regret, despair, conscious that life held nothing for 
 her, and yet clinging to it, unknowing what would 
 be the outcome of the Titanic struggle raging in her 
 breast between primal passions, love of life, and 
 love of man!
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE REPENTANCE THAT CAME TOO LATE 
 
 FOR the first time in his life, the man of the island 
 played the coward. He \vas afraid to be alone. 
 The others, the officers of the ship, that is, not Lang- 
 ford he had gone back to his own yacht, declining 
 the captain s invitation to dinner would have re 
 spected the islander s mood and have left him to him 
 self, but it was evident that he craved their society. 
 Whittaker and the old chaplain suspected how it 
 would be with him, but they knew that sooner or 
 later he would have to retire to rest and sooner or 
 later he would be alone. 
 
 Their sympathies were entirely on the woman s 
 side. If the man had been an ordinary, normal man, 
 they would not have tolerated his conduct for an 
 instant, although any interference on the part of 
 strangers would in truth have been a very delicate 
 matter in such an affair of the heart. But they real 
 ized instinctively that he could not be judged as other 
 men; that whatever his training and teaching had 
 been, he had not had the advantages that the world 
 would give, which not the most beautiful and de 
 voted of women could impart unaided, and that he 
 was to be pitied rather than condemned and blamed. 
 
 283
 
 284 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 And then his grief was so obvious that in accord 
 ance with a natural and commendable tendency they 
 strove to cheer him up. They encouraged him to 
 ask questions. They told him many things in reply 
 that the woman could not have told him ; that he had 
 half dimly suspected, but had not known. They 
 cleared up to him many things which had seemed 
 mysteries and strange to him. 
 
 And on their part they marveled at the things he 
 did know, at the thoroughness with which he had 
 been taught, and at the wonderful acuteness of per 
 ception which he displayed. The woman had mar 
 veled at it, too, but she had become used to it in 
 three years of intimacy. They saw it immediately 
 with greater surprise. 
 
 In such engrossing conversation the long hours 
 passed until the striking couplets of the bell forward 
 tolled eight and it was midnight. No one had any 
 desire to sleep in view of the unusual and stimulat 
 ing experience which both parties to the interchange 
 of thought in the play of question and answer were 
 enjoying. But it was the captain, hard-headed and 
 practical, who gave the signal for retiring. The 
 men were not accustomed to disregard even the sug 
 gestions of the autocrat of the ship. 
 
 A spare cabin in the ward-room had been arranged 
 for the islander, and there, provided with the un 
 wonted luxury of night wear, after a hearty " Good 
 night " from the lieutenant-commander and a fervent
 
 The Coming of the World 285 
 
 <s God bless you " from the old chaplain, he was left 
 to his own devices. The strangeness of his situation, 
 the soft bed, the snowy linen, the silk pajamas, the 
 confining walls of the small cabin, the sudden intro 
 duction to the luxuries of civilization, would in itself 
 have kept him awake had he been as heart-whole 
 and as care-free as when the woman had landed upon 
 the island. But indeed the strangeness of these 
 things aroused no emotions in his mind at all, for the 
 moment he was alone his thoughts, which he had 
 been fighting desperately to keep upon other things, 
 reverted to her. What was she doing for the first 
 time alone upon that island? What was she think 
 ing? He realized that no more than he could she 
 be sleeping. 
 
 These were the first moments that he could give 
 to reflection, the first quiet hours that he could spend 
 in considering the situation and in getting back his 
 rudely disturbed balance. There had been method 
 in his training, and he had been taught the value of 
 considering a series of events logically and in their 
 proper relationships. Lying in the comfortable 
 berth, he reviewed at length and deliberately the his 
 tory of his life from the day that he had been born, 
 when he first bent over her sleeping upon the sand 
 until that great glad hour when, the earthquake en 
 lightening him, he tore the rocks asunder, clasped 
 her in his arms and pressed the first kiss that he had 
 ever given anyone upon her lips.
 
 286 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Unflichingly he reviewed with what calmness he 
 could muster the scenes of the morning and the day. 
 He forced himself to consider in all its lights and 
 bearings the information that had been given to him. 
 He tortured himself by the deliberate slow recalling 
 of every detail, and then, quivering as if under the 
 stimulus of some blow upon a raw and open wound, 
 he reviewed his own conduct. Enlightenment came 
 to him in that dark and silent hour. He discovered 
 first of all that he loved her; that the check and 
 counter-check and variation and alteration in his emo 
 tions had been swept away in a great development of 
 a more transcending feeling. If she should ask him 
 that question on the morrow as to whether he loved 
 her as he had on that never-to-be-forgotten night, he 
 would still answer no, but now because he loved her 
 more! 
 
 And then he discovered that he wanted her more 
 than he had ever desired her before; that she was 
 more necessary to him than ever he had dreamed she 
 would be; that here was no question of honor or 
 duty, indeed, but of love, overwhelming, obsessing. 
 And then he admitted that she was purity, even holi 
 ness itself; that he had behaved to her like a cur; 
 that he had been neither grateful, nor kind, nor 
 tender, nor loving. He began to wonder fearfully 
 if, after having failed so egregiously and terribly, 
 there was any possible chance that she could ever care 
 for him again. Fate had brought her into intimate
 
 The Coming of the World 287 
 
 contact, he realized, with two men. One had treated 
 her outrageously in the beginning and had nobly 
 made amends. He hated Langford, and yet his 
 sense of justice forced him to admit that he had 
 played the man at last, while he, the islander, had 
 also treated her outrageously and in the end had 
 played the fool. Was there a chance that she would 
 forgive him? 
 
 Before the advent of the ship, he would have said 
 instantly, yes. But now that he had got even in re 
 mote and ineffective touch with the world through a 
 small section of it, he was not so sure. The other 
 man had outraged her bodily and she had not for 
 given him, although he had abased himself to the 
 dust. He had outraged her mentally and spiritually, 
 would she forgive him, even if he abased himself 
 to the dust? He was quite ready to do it. He had 
 never been so desperately lonely in all his life. He 
 had passed many wakeful hours on that island with 
 the breadth of the hill between them, he in his lair 
 and she in hers; he had passed many hours in long 
 ing for her, for the sound of her voice, the look of 
 her eye, but there had always been a binding tie be 
 tween them. They were there together on that 
 island alone, each necessary to the other, at least so 
 he fondly believed. It was a tie that linked them 
 together in their very isolation. 
 
 Now, sleeping in the midst of his fellows, 
 separated from them by the thin partitions of the
 
 288 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 ward-room, able to summon half a thousand men by 
 a single call, able to bring an attendant to him by the 
 touch of a button, able to flood the darkness with 
 light by the touch of another these things he had 
 learned during the day he was never so much 
 alone. He wanted her. The rest of the world 
 amounted to nothing and counted for nothing. He 
 realized then what it would mean for him to go out 
 among strangers without her. 
 
 The man was in many respects still a child. His 
 heart in those sad and dreary hours yearned toward 
 her as the weaned babe yearns toward its mother. 
 And yet there was nothing weak or childish in his 
 feelings. He recognized his own powers, his own 
 capacities. He knew then that she had taught him 
 more things than are learned in books. She had 
 taught him manhood as she had tried to teach him 
 honor and dignity, and if he had failed once, if he 
 had derogated from her high standard, he remem 
 bered that it was through failure that men achieved. 
 He tried to comfort himself with these thoughts, but 
 with little success. 
 
 But by and by all these considerations faded away 
 or merged in a great longing for her. He had never 
 disturbed her in the still watches of the night, al 
 though he had often been tempted to do so. But 
 now the desire to see her, to plead with her, to beg 
 her forgiveness not a low desire or a base one, he 
 thanked God was so great that he could no longer
 
 The Coming of the World 289 
 
 sustain it. He rose to his feet and looked out of 
 the open porthole. The dawn was graying the east. 
 Attired as he was in the loose shirt and trousers in 
 which he had lain down, which were not unlike the 
 tunic that he habitually wore, save that they were of 
 soft and luxurious silk, he opened the door of the 
 cabin, slipped noiselessly out through the silent ward 
 room he had the natural savage art of treading 
 without a sound ran lightly up the companion 
 ladder and stepped upon the deck. The officer of 
 the watch and his midshipman did not notice him. 
 Their eyes were elsewhere. He ran swiftly across 
 the deck and stopped at the gangway. A marine 
 stood there and started forward as he approached. 
 
 That s my island," said the man. " I m going 
 to swim off to it, and I don t wish to be followed." 
 
 " It s a long swim, sir," ventured the marine, 
 scarcely knowing what to do. 
 
 He stepped fairly in the gangway as if to bar the 
 exit. 
 
 " It is nothing to me," said the man. " Stand 
 aside." 
 
 " Mr. Hopkins!" called the marine, turning to 
 ward the officer of the watch. 
 
 " Aye, aye," came from Mr. Hopkins as he turned 
 and started forward to the gangway. 
 
 The next moment the man had seized the marine 
 in a grip which left him helpless, lifted him gently 
 out of the gangway, dropped him carelessly upon
 
 290 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the deck, and had flashed through the air into the 
 water. 
 
 By the time Mr. Hopkins reached the gangway, 
 the half-dazed marine had risen to his feet. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Why, it s the castaway, sir, the wild man that 
 we brought ashore to-day." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "He said he wanted to swim to the shore and 
 did not want to be followed." 
 
 " Why didn t you stop him? " 
 
 " I did try, sir, but he picked me up as if I had 
 been a baby and threw me aside and went over 
 board." 
 
 The officer was in a quandary. He had received 
 no orders to prevent the man from leaving the ship. 
 He was not quite sure what his duty was. At any 
 rate, he turned to the boatswain s mate and bade 
 him call away a crew for the cutter swinging astern. 
 He directed the coxswain to bring the boat to the 
 gangway, and then sent the midshipman of the 
 watch below to report the matter to the captain and 
 ask his orders. 
 
 Captain Ashby, as it happened, was awake. He 
 came on deck immediately in his pajamas and re 
 ceived confirmation of the midshipman s extraordi 
 nary story from the watch officer. It was light 
 enough now for the waters and the shore clearly to 
 be seen. The captain stared over the side. He
 
 The Coming of the World 291 
 
 could make out the man s head swimming through 
 the opening in the barrier. He could see the splash 
 that he made in his rapid progress through the quiet 
 seas. 
 
 " Mr. Hopkins," he said after a moment s 
 thought, " tell Mr. Cady " the midshipman of the 
 watch "to take the boat and follow after. If the 
 man gets safely to the shore, they are not to disturb 
 him, but to come back and report to me. If, on the 
 contrary, he needs help, they are to take him aboard 
 and bring him back to the ship." 
 
 So much time was lost in these various maneuvers, 
 however, that when the order was carried out, the 
 boat had scarcely reached the entrance to the barrier 
 when they saw the islander stepping through the 
 shallow waters to the beach. There was, therefore, 
 nothing for Mr. Cady to do but come back and re 
 port the matter to the captain. When he reached 
 the deck of the cruiser he found the executive officer, 
 with the chaplain and the surgeon, who had been 
 summoned from their berths, in consultation with the 
 captain. By Mr. Whittaker s advice, he and the 
 chaplain were immediately sent ashore to see what 
 had happened and to determine what was to be 
 done. 
 
 There was considerable anxiety in the minds of the 
 quartette which had been dealing with the affair 
 heretofore as to what conditions might be. They 
 did not know the man. They did not know what he
 
 292 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 might be doing, or to what danger the woman, 
 whom they all pitied most profoundly, might be ex 
 posed. Of all with whom he had come in contact, 
 the lieutenant-commander and the chaplain were 
 those who would have the most influence over the 
 man of the island, hence they were dispatched to the 
 island. 
 
 Another boat crew was therefore called away and 
 the two gentlemen were rowed ashore. It was not 
 yet sunrise, but still sufficiently light to enable them 
 to proceed. They were at a loss at first what to do, 
 for they had not yet had opportunity for exploring 
 the island. They had learned that the cave in which 
 the woman dwelt was upon the other side, and that 
 hills rose between the landing place and her abode. 
 They knew, of course, that they could get to it by 
 following the shores of the island, but they had a 
 reasonably accurate idea of its size, and they knew 
 that that would take a great deal of time. Time 
 was precious. They were becoming more and more 
 fearful with every moment. 
 
 They decided, therefore, to chance a direct march 
 over the hill and across the island. By great good 
 fortune they stumbled into the path, which was now 
 sufficiently defined in the growing light to enable 
 them to follow it. They climbed the hill as rapidly 
 as was consistent with the strength of the chaplain, 
 who was a rather old man, and then, having reached 
 the top, went down the other side almost at a run.
 
 The Coming of the World 293 
 
 As they broke out from under the palm trees they 
 saw a dark object in the gray of the dawn lying upon 
 the sands at the water s edge. It was a human 
 being undoubtedly. As they ran toward it with 
 quickening heartbeats, they recognized it as the 
 man. He was lying motionless as if he had been 
 struck dead. In a brief space they reached him. 
 The lieutenant-commander knelt down by his side 
 and turned him over upon his back. He was as 
 senseless as if he had been smitten with a thunder 
 bolt. 
 
 "Is he alive?" asked the chaplain, bending over 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Whittaker s hand searched his heart. 
 
 " It beats feebly," he said. " He seems to have 
 fainted, collapsed in some strange way. I wish we 
 had brought the surgeon. I wonder what can be 
 the cause of it." 
 
 "Look! " said the chaplain. 
 
 He pointed to a little heap of something dark on 
 the sands a foot or two away. 
 
 "What is it?" asked the officer. 
 
 The chaplain stepped over to it. 
 
 " It is the clothes of the woman," he said in an 
 awestruck voice, " and that Bible we were to take 
 away with us with the other things, but which she 
 said she would give us in the morning." 
 
 " Great heavens 1 " exclaimed Mr. Whittaker, 
 "you don t think . . ."
 
 294 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 At the same instant the same thought had come 
 to both men. 
 
 " It looks like it," said the chaplain with bated 
 breath. " Poor woman, may God help her ! " 
 
 "That is what is the matter with him," returned 
 the lieutenant-commander. " He has sought her in 
 her cave and has not found her. He has discovered 
 these things and he knows that she is gone. The 
 shock has almost killed him." 
 
 " What is to be done now? " 
 
 Here the man of action interposed. 
 
 " Do you watch by him, chaplain," said Mr. 
 Whittaker, rising as he spoke. " I will go back to 
 the landing upon the other side and send for the 
 doctor. Then we will bring a party ashore and 
 search every foot of the island. It is a bad busi 
 ness. To think of that woman offering herself to 
 this man in vain. The fool ! " 
 
 " Don t," said the chaplain. " He is not much 
 more than a child in spite of all that he has learned. 
 We must make allowances for him. He did love 
 her evidently. Look to what her loss has brought 
 him. Perhaps, stricken by the hand of God, his 
 soul is going out to meet hers, poor woman." 
 
 Well, we must fight for his life any way. Do 
 you stay here. I will be back in a short time." 
 
 The lieutenant-commander rose to his feet and 
 started back across the island without another word. 
 
 The chaplain composed the members of the
 
 The Coming of the World 295 
 
 stricken man, putting him in a comfortable position 
 on the warm sand, then knelt down and began to 
 pray. It seemed a long time to the waiting priest 
 before his shipmate returned, and yet but a short 
 time had elapsed. He came up panting from the 
 violence of his exertions. 
 
 " I have sent the cutter back for the surgeon. I 
 told the men to row for their lives. I gave the mid 
 shipman in charge an account of what we had found, 
 and begged the captain to send parties ashore to 
 search the island. What of the man?" 
 
 " He breathes still," said trie chaplain. " I should 
 think he was in some kind of syncope. His heart 
 evidently was affected. He has had no preparation 
 for such violent strains. The things which are usual 
 and ordinary with us and which, I take it, indurate 
 us to the greater things of life, have been conspicuous 
 by their absence in his case, and he has not been able 
 to bear up under the sudden shock." 
 
 " Those clothes, have you examined them?" 
 
 " No," said the chaplain, " it has been too dark 
 in the first place, and . . ." 
 
 " I will look at them," said Mr. Whittaker. 
 " Perhaps we may find some clew in them." 
 
 The lieutenant-commander stooped over the 
 pathetic little heap of worn garments. There were 
 the blouse, the skirt, the stockings, and the worn and 
 torn white shoes. The Bible lay upon them as 
 if to weigh them down, and they had been placed
 
 296 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 well above the reach of the highest tide. The tide 
 was then just coming in to the island. The Bible 
 had been opened and laid face downward on the 
 clothes. Mr. Whittaker lifted it up reverently. 
 He observed as he did so that his own pencil, which 
 he had left, he now remembered, with the woman, 
 lay beneath the open book. On the blank leaves be 
 tween the Old and New Testaments something was 
 written. No mention of any writing had been made 
 in the affidavit of the night before. He lifted it, 
 turned his back toward the east, where the sun was 
 just on the verge of rising, and scanned it atten 
 tively. 
 
 " Do you find anything? " asked the chaplain. 
 There is writing on this page," said the younger 
 man. " I can just make it out." 
 
 " Man," he read slowly, studying each word in the dim 
 light, " I loved you. In one sense, in your sense, I was un 
 worthy of you, perhaps, but not in mine. You alone 
 had my heart. The past was a frightful mistake for which 
 I should not be blamed, but for which I must suffer. I 
 tried you with the world by your side. The world was 
 kind, but you were not. You broke my soul and killed 
 something within me which I had thought dead but which 
 you had revived. No power could revive it again. I can 
 not marry Langford, for I do not love him. I will not 
 marry you, for you do not love me. I will not go back 
 to the world now. I have no desire to do so, and I can 
 not live alone with you upon the island. You will not go 
 without me, and so I will go first, by myself, alone. You
 
 The Coming of the World 297 
 
 will think of me, I know, in the great world. Perhaps 
 you will judge yourself harshly, but I do not judge you at 
 all. You did not know, you did not understand. It 
 came too suddenly upon you. You cannot forget me, 
 but do not repine over me, and remember to the very last 
 I loved you. Good-by. May God bless you, and may 
 He pity me ! " 
 
 Underneath she had written the impersonal name 
 which he had loved to call her, " Woman." 
 
 So characteristic was the letter that that sub 
 scription was supererogatory, thought Mr. Whit- 
 taker. Only a woman could have written it. She 
 had gone out of his life, because with her in it there 
 was no solution of it for him, because how pitiful 
 it sounded there in the gray of that morning on that 
 lone island to those two men! because he did not 
 love her. And she had gone out of it with excuses 
 for him on her lips and love for him in her heart. 
 No wonder that, divining this which he had not 
 seen, realizing only that she was gone, he had been 
 stricken as he was. 
 
 The doctor arrived presently. He ordered the 
 man, still unconscious, to be taken back to the ship 
 where he would do what he could toward reviving 
 him and pulling him through this great and terrible 
 crisis that had come upon him. The chaplain went 
 with him, conceiving his duty to be in attendance 
 upon the living rather than in searching for the 
 dead.
 
 298 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 The captain, with the other officers, brought a 
 hundred men to the shore. The island was sys 
 tematically searched. It was all open. There was 
 no place of concealment, but not a foot of it was left 
 unvisited. Again and again the men traversed the 
 island. They found nothing, absolutely nothing. 
 The woman had vanished and left no trace except 
 the grass tunic in her cave, the remains of her toilet 
 articles, her scissors, knife, watch, and Bible, and the 
 little heap of clothing on the sand. All these they 
 carefully gathered up and took back to the cruiser 
 for the man. 
 
 In the search, and made quite frantic by the ne 
 cessity for it, Langford joined. Indeed, he would 
 not be persuaded that the woman he had treated so 
 badly, whom he had hunted so determinedly, whom 
 he had loved so truly, who had rejected him finally, 
 was dead, but even he gave up at last. 
 
 Taking with them the evidences to substantiate the 
 woman s affidavit and to establish, if so be it were 
 possible, the man s claim, and taking with them also 
 the bones of his mother, not forgetting what re 
 mained of the faithful dog, which the captain caused 
 to be exhumed from the ruined boat, as night fell the 
 Cheyenne steamed away to the northeast, followed 
 not long after by the Southern Cross. The two ves 
 sels went slowly, as if the souls that animated them 
 were reluctant to leave the gem-like island where 
 they had chanced upon so much that was idyllic, so
 
 The Coming of the World 299 
 
 much that was romantic; and where they had seen 
 so great a tragedy of misfortune and despair. 
 
 Below in the cabin, under the care of the surgeon 
 and chaplain, lay the islander in the frightful throes 
 of a racking fever of the brain. He babbled of the 
 woman and knew not whither he was being borne.
 
 BOOK V 
 ABANDONED
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE RESURRECTION 
 
 THE little island lay quiet and still in the brilliant 
 morning. No footfall pressed its bosky glades; be 
 neath the shadows of its spreading palms no human 
 being sought shelter from the sun s fierce rays; no 
 human voices were echoed back from its jutting 
 crags; no human figures flashed across its shining 
 sands. Soundless it lay save for the cry of the bird 
 and the rustle of the gentle wind across its hills. 
 For well-nigh thirty years it had not been so aban 
 doned. Two days past it had resounded with the 
 cries of men scaling its heights, crashing through 
 its coppices, calling a name, beseeching an answer. 
 Two days before great ships had drifted idly under 
 its lee. It had been the center and focus of great 
 events. Now it lay desolate, alone. 
 
 On that morning the tide, which had drawn away 
 from it through the long night, had turned and was 
 coming back. The onrush of the water spent itself 
 upon the barrier. Within the lagoon it lay placid, ris 
 ing gently inch by inch in mighty overflow. A watcher, 
 had there been one, would have seen at sunrise the 
 still waters of the lagoon broken by a ripple; a keen 
 eye might have noticed at the base of the cliff where
 
 304 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 it ran sheer down into the blue a dark object moving 
 beneath the surface. The eye could scarcely have 
 become aware of its presence before the waters 
 parted. A little splash, and a head rose, dark- 
 crowned, white-faced. There was a sidewise wave 
 and shake of the head and a pair of eyes opened. 
 The blue of the water was lightened by flashes of 
 white arms. As the body rose higher under the im 
 petus of strokes vigorous yet graceful, it could be 
 seen that it was that of a woman. 
 
 With ease and grace the figure swam along the 
 base of the cliff until it was joined by a jutting spit 
 of sand which widened and widened into the great 
 strip of beach that ran around the island. Upon 
 this sand presently the shallowing of the water gave 
 the swimmer a foothold. Progress ceased. With 
 eyes haggard, yet keenly alert, the sea, the shore, 
 the beach, the cliffs, the trees were eagerly searched. 
 The long glances revealed no other person. Then 
 the head was turned, and the ear listened for sounds, 
 and heard no human call. The look of apprehen 
 sion faded into one of dull relief. 
 
 Walking now, the woman in the water made her 
 way toward the sand. Very white she gleamed in 
 the full warm light streaming from the risen sun 
 against the background of the dark, black rock. 
 The water dripping from her exquisitely graceful 
 limbs, she looked a very nymph of the sea as she 
 stepped out of the shallows at last and stood above
 
 Abandoned 305 
 
 the high tide line, poised as If for flight upon the 
 hard and solid shore. Again she threw about her 
 that quick, apprehensive look. Again she paused to 
 listen. Reassured in that she heard and saw noth 
 ing but the bird s song, the wind s sigh, the wave s 
 splash, she ran swiftly toward a blacker opening in 
 the dark rock. She gleamed whiter still in the en 
 trance for a moment and then disappeared. She 
 came forth presently, still unclothed, a look of dis 
 may on her face. 
 
 She had many things to do, much to occupy her 
 mind, but the first duty that lay to her hand and the 
 first instinct which she followed was that her naked 
 ness should be covered. 
 
 Still warily watchful, still keenly alert, still fear 
 ful apparently of interruption or observation, she ran 
 across the beach, her movement as free, as graceful, 
 as rapid as she had been Atalanta herself, and dis 
 appeared under the trees. The whirr of birds dis 
 turbed might have marked her passage. 
 
 After some time she appeared on the top of the 
 high, bare hill that crowned the island. She had 
 improvised for herself a covering out of three or 
 four great fern leaves, soft and pliable, which she 
 fastened with palm fibres from shoulder to knee on 
 either side, her bare shoulders rising from the rich 
 greenness like a white corolla from its verdant calyx. 
 She went more assuredly now, partly because of the 
 fact that she was clothed and partly because her first
 
 306 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 rapid survey of the horizon revealed the fact that 
 the ships were gone. 
 
 Determined to make sure, she descended the hill 
 rapidly to the landing place of the day before. Still 
 searching, she found nothing. She was glad that 
 this was so, and yet, when the full and final realiza 
 tion came upon her, she knelt down on the shining 
 "sand, hid her face in her arms, clenched her hands 
 and gave way to voiceless agony. Sometimes there 
 is nothing so terrible, she realized, as prayer granted, 
 as desire accomplished, as undertaking brought to 
 conclusion. The awfulness of success was upon her 
 in that hour. Her ruse had worked. Her object 
 had been attained, yet the achievement gave her no 
 pleasure, on the contrary! 
 
 Her own acts had parted her irrevocably forever 
 from the world and the one man in it who was the 
 world for her. He was gone. She who had made 
 him had sent him forth among his fellows. She 
 had sacrificed herself, buried herself alive for him. 
 She felt as a mother might who experiences birth 
 pangs and knows that with every throb of tearing 
 anguish her own life ebbs away, passes into the new 
 life which she ushers into the world and gives to 
 men. 
 
 She had had long hours for thought in those two 
 days in that cave whose mouth the waters hid. She 
 had schooled herself to face light and life without 
 him when she emerged from her cunning hiding
 
 SHE HAD SACRIFICED HERSELF, BURIED 
 HERSELF ALIVE FOR HIM"
 
 Abandoned 307 
 
 place. She had waited the long period in order to 
 make absolutely certain that they all would be gone. 
 And yet, despite herself, a little gleam of hope, a 
 bare possibility that he might still be there, had ling 
 ered in her soul and leavened the awfulness of her 
 grief. Now that hope was gone. It had disap 
 peared even as the ships had disappeared. 
 
 She had been bitter against him. Her soul had 
 revolted because he had failed. She had told her 
 self that he was not worthy of her. She forgot 
 these things in that profound and desolate moment. 
 She knew only that she loved him. When she could 
 think of other things than of him the mere bodily 
 presence of the man, the look of him, the sound of 
 his voice, the pressure of his lips, the clasp of his 
 arms she began to realize that as he grew older, 
 unless she was so absolutely mistaken in him as to 
 make all estimate of him a mockery, he would real 
 ize the falsity of his view, the littleness of his ac 
 tion; and if he were in truth the man whom she 
 could rightly love, his years would be one long 
 regret that he had failed. What would happen 
 when he understood that, when he came to the 
 knowledge that she was indeed all that she had 
 seemed, and that he had been nothing that he 
 should? She knew, as she had written, that the man 
 would never, could never, forget her; that wherever 
 he went and whatever he did, she would be present 
 with him; that she had stamped herself too indelibly
 
 308 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 upon his heart for any attrition with humanity, how 
 ever close and persistent, to erase the image. He 
 would come back, perhaps. 
 
 " O God ! " she knelt down and lifted up her arms 
 toward heaven, "bring him back," she prayed a 
 few short, broken words, lacking the eloquence of 
 long and studied petition, the appeal of the heart 
 every throb of which is a prayer "bring him back 
 to me! " 
 
 She thought that she would have had him back on 
 any terms. She said that she had been mad, a fool, 
 not to have taken him, not to have gone to him, not 
 to have married him in any way, with any conditions, 
 under any circumstances. All her thoughts were 
 merged in one great passionate longing to be with 
 him. 
 
 For the first time in her life the pangs of jealousy 
 tore her breast. She thought of him in the world 
 with other men, with other women, young, hand 
 some, a perfect god-like form and face of 
 man, rich, the wildest romance with its charm and 
 mystery to attract. His story could not be hid, 
 neither could hers. The man would be courted, 
 sought after, made much over, beloved. It would 
 be enough to turn the head of a saint. How would 
 he stand it? Would the recollection of her make 
 him strong? Would that God in whom he and 
 she both had trusted until this crisis came, lead 
 him in the straight path? Would her purity,
 
 Abandoned 309 
 
 her sweetness stop ! would he think her thus 
 dowered and possessed? Not now, certainly, but 
 every hour that took him farther from her would 
 add to his knowledge and would tell him the truth, 
 and these would help him. 
 
 Another thought came into her mind. His story 
 would be known, and hers as well. The world was 
 filled with adventurous men. Would not some of 
 them come in search of her island? The officers of 
 those two ships could determine accurately the situa 
 tion of that island. It would be as easy for a navi 
 gator to find it as for a denizen of a city to go 
 to any given street corner. People might come back 
 to that island; not to seek her, for the world would 
 believe her dead, but simply to see the place. Idle 
 yachtsmen might find that an object for long cruis 
 ing, and she would have to hide and hide. But would 
 she hide? Would she go back to that world? 
 Never, she said, unless he came to fetch her. 
 
 And then her thoughts turned again. Why had 
 he gone away? Had she been he they could as soon 
 have uprooted the island itself as torn her from it 
 under similar circumstances. Had he been gone, she 
 would have lingered and died on the spots that were 
 sacred because there he had walked. If she had 
 known that at that moment her Man lay fighting 
 for life and reason in the cabin of the swift-moving 
 ship, she would have understood better his absence. 
 That he could be so stricken never occurred to her.
 
 310 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She had been mistaken in him doubly, mistaken 
 when she thought he would rise to the test, and 
 again mistaken when she thought that, having 
 once fallen, he would not rise again. She did not 
 know that he had come ashore in the gray of the 
 dawn to seek her, to throw himself at her feet, to 
 declare that all he had thought of her was as noth 
 ing to what he thought of her then ; that she was the 
 sweetest, the noblest, the truest, the purest woman 
 upon earth; that he could not live without her; that 
 she must take him back into her heart, give him the 
 place which so briefly he had enjoyed, if she did not 
 wish to see him wither and die under her displeasure 
 like an uprooted palm, a torn-down tree. 
 
 She did not know that when he had called her 
 name at the mouth of her cave and had at last en 
 tered and not found her, how terrible the shock had 
 been to him. She had not seen, she had not heard, 
 she could not know, how he had been stricken down 
 when he caught sight of the little heap of clothes 
 which she had laid out upon the beach to make the 
 searchers think that she had gone. 
 
 And it was well for her that these things were 
 hidden from her, for had she believed him suffering, 
 dying, and she not there, the separation would have 
 been more unendurable than it was. She pictured 
 him, not happy away from her, overwhelmed by her 
 death surely, saddened beyond present comfort it 
 must be, yet so occupied that insensibly his grief
 
 Abandoned 311 
 
 would be lightened by the only thing after all that 
 makes life bearable in certain contingencies, and that 
 is work. Work! She, too, had work to do. 
 
 She rose to her feet doggedly as she thought 
 of that, and considered what she could do. She 
 climbed the hill again. It was in part aimless, rest 
 less wandering, but it gave her occupation. Her eyes 
 fell upon the ashes of the signal nre. She contem 
 plated it as the spectre of some Hindu woman whose 
 body had been burned upon such an affair might look 
 upon her pyre. It was she who had lighted the 
 beacon. Her hand had called the world to her side. 
 She thought how he had begged her not to do it, 
 how he had declared himself content and happy to 
 live with her alone the world forgetting, by the 
 world forgot ! For the second time she broke down 
 completely. She buried her face in her hands, her 
 body reeled and shook with sobs, the tears trickled 
 through her fingers. Was she to be forever unequal 
 to the separation? she asked herself at last. 
 
 She must make another beacon, she decided at 
 last; that would give her something to do. And 
 then it came to her that they had taken away the flint 
 and steel. She had no means of lighting it. That 
 realization developed other thoughts. Her Bible 
 was gone; her clothes were gone; her toilet articles, 
 her scissors, her watch, her knife. They had taken 
 everything. They had left her nothing, absolutely 
 nothing. What did it matter? She could dress
 
 312 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 herself with fern leaves and make shift to bind them 
 about her with cords that she could plait of the 
 grass which she could tear with her sweet strong 
 hands. And what did it matter what she wore? 
 There was no one there to see. But for the age 
 long habit of modesty, she would have torn away 
 and thrown aside the makeshifts that fell from her 
 shoulders. 
 
 She saw herself reduced to the life of the mere 
 animal. She had nothing but her hands, no tool or 
 implement of any sort. Who had defined man 
 as a tool-using animal, she wondered. She wished 
 that she had buried or hidden some of the things 
 before she took that determination to retreat to that 
 cave which she had discovered on the day that she 
 had discovered that he loved her and that she loved 
 him. She had stood there in the water hesitating 
 as to whether to go out or to come back. She had 
 utterly forgotten the cave until, the tide being out, a 
 backward glance from the low level at which she 
 stood had disclosed the black and narrow opening. 
 And then without a thought she had decided on 
 her course. She had gone back and written in the 
 Bible with the lieutenant-commander s pencil, which 
 unwittingly she had retained, and then she had 
 plunged into the cave with enough food to last her 
 for the two days. 
 
 She rehearsed it all and came to the conclusion 
 that she must eat unless she would really die. To
 
 Abandoned 313 
 
 eat, to sleep, to dream these were all that were left 
 her. She wondered if she would lose the power of 
 speech. She wondered if she would descend in the 
 long years to that low level from which she had up 
 lifted him. She felt that perhaps she would go 
 mad. She threw herself down upon her knees 
 again and prayed once more, this time that God 
 would enable her to keep her reason, so that if the 
 man did come back she would be ready for him. 
 
 Quieter after a while, and a little comforted, she 
 rose and made a circuit of the island. She must 
 make sure that no one really was ashore. She went 
 last of all to the cave that had been his. She would 
 choose it for her own now. It was reminiscent of 
 him. In her thoughts it would be like having him 
 near her. She kissed the sand where he had lain 
 so long. 
 
 So the dreary day dragged on until the night fell 
 and sleep came to her wearied body and soul with 
 its benediction of oblivion.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 UNAVAILING APPEAL 
 
 SHE slept late the next morning. In the first place, 
 being upon the western side of the island, there was 
 no flooding burst of sunlight through the open door 
 to disturb her quiet slumber. In the second place, 
 she was so worn out and exhausted, she had had so 
 little sleep in the past three days, that imperative 
 nature forced her into rest. She might have slept 
 longer indeed but that she was awakened by a great 
 cry, a human voice calling her name. She opened 
 her eyes and saw within the dimness of the cave a 
 human figure, vaguely white in the darkness. For 
 one fleeting instant she imagined that it might be he, 
 but that hope was dispelled as quickly as it had been 
 born. She recognized the voice. It was Lang- 
 ford s. 
 
 " Kate," he said, approaching her more nearly 
 and bending over her, "are you alive, then?" 
 
 He reached down and touched her hand where it 
 lay across the fern leaves on her breast. His touch 
 summoned her bewildered faculties to action. 
 Brushing his hand aside, she sat up. 
 
 " Mr. Langford, Valentine ! " she exclaimed in 
 a daze of surprise. 
 
 314
 
 Abandoned 315 
 
 You are alive and well? " 
 
 Yes," she answered. 
 
 "Thank God!" cried the man. "We thought 
 you dead. We searched the island. Where had 
 you hidden? Why have you done it?" 
 
 She rose slowly to her feet and confronted him. 
 
 "You!" she said bitterly. "Why have you 
 come back? " 
 
 " I don t know," answered Langford. " I can t 
 tell what moved me. I was here on the island with 
 the others. I searched with the rest. I know that 
 no foot of it was left unvisited. Every crag and 
 cranny, every thicket and coppice, every tree, every 
 cave and rift in the rocks was examined over and 
 over again. We knew that you were gone, and 
 yet I could not believe it. Yesterday afternoon I 
 parted from the cruiser. I did not bear away for 
 this island until it was too dark and they were too 
 far away to see what I would be about, and then I 
 came back here at full speed." 
 
 "Why did you come?" 
 
 " I don t know. I was not satisfied. It seemed 
 to me that I must come back and search again. I 
 could not believe it possible that you were dead, 
 really dead. Something in my heart at any rate 
 brought me once more to see the place where you 
 had lived, if no more than that. We made the 
 island early in the morning. The yacht lies yonder. 
 I came ashore alone a moment since and some kind
 
 316 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 Providence led me first of all to this spot. I en 
 tered the cave. I saw you lying there in the cool 
 darkness. I thought you dead at first. Then I 
 cried to you and you moved. And then I touched 
 your hand. O Kate, thank God I have found 
 you ! " 
 
 " Where is he?" said the woman. " Why didn t 
 he come back? " 
 
 It was a cruel thing to say, but she could not more 
 have helped it than she could have helped her 
 breathing. Not to have said it would have killed 
 her, for if Langford s love could turn him back, 
 what could be said then of Charnock s. Langford 
 was pale and haggard. He, too, had suffered. He 
 was paying for his sins. He was expiating them 
 and feeling it, although the expiation was not help 
 ing her. 
 
 "What of him?" she asked insistently. 
 
 "What matters about him?" he said bitterly. 
 "He had his chance. He failed to grasp it. He s 
 gone." 
 
 The man did not tell her that Charnock had been 
 carried away a senseless log, bereft of power to 
 think, or speak, or move, or feel by the shock of her 
 departure. 
 
 "Once," said the woman, "you had your chance 
 in the cabin of that very yacht out yonder, and you 
 failed to grasp it, and we separated." 
 
 " Yes," said the man, " I know that, I realize
 
 Abandoned 317 
 
 that now, and I came back, I have come back now 
 to take my chance again." 
 
 " And so he may come back," said the woman. 
 " You sank lower than he." 
 
 " And I rose higher the other day upon the 
 sand." 
 
 " You did, but not high enough. I believe in 
 him. He will realize it, too," she went on, all the 
 confidence of her hopes springing into life again 
 and giving force and power to her voice and bear 
 ing. 
 
 "And you condemn me for that one mistake?" 
 said the man. 
 
 "No," returned the woman, "neither will I con 
 demn him for that one mistake." 
 
 " But he is gone, I tell you." 
 
 "And he will come back, I know." 
 
 "He thinks you dead." 
 
 " So did you." 
 
 " But I came back, not he." 
 
 " You were your own master," said the woman 
 swiftly. " You could go where you pleased. He 
 was subject to the decision of others. I trust him 
 still." 
 
 " And you don t trust me." 
 
 " I trust you enough, but I don t love you." 
 
 " O Kate, think ! There must be something in 
 what I feel for you to move you. I did not know 
 what It was. I did not realize it. I came back in
 
 318 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 the first place as much because I had been a black 
 guard and a coward and wanted to set myself right 
 in your eyes as because I cared for you, but every 
 hour of search made me know my own heart, and 
 since I have seen you, since I see you now, there is 
 nothing I would not do for you, nothing I would 
 not suffer for you. This isn t any expiation or 
 amendment or anything now, but because I am a 
 man, and love you, I want you. I want to make 
 you happy. And I am the one man in the world 
 that ought to want you and want to make you 
 happy. It is for that I have come back to you." 
 
 " How terrible are the arrangements of blind 
 fate," said the woman. " I must believe what you 
 say. You awaken my pity, my tenderness, my con 
 sideration, but these are all. He is not by to hear, 
 and therefore I will tell you unreservedly, for you 
 deserve the truth, that just as you say you love me, 
 nay, then, just as you do and more a thousand times, 
 I love that man. It would be a crime, a sin, a 
 bodily profanation, a mental and spiritual degrada 
 tion to which the other " he knew to what she 
 alluded as she paused " were nothing, if I should 
 come to you with my whole heart and soul given to 
 the man," she threw her hand out in a great sweep 
 ing gesture, " yonder out at sea." 
 
 " But he doesn t love you." 
 
 " O yes, he does. Not as I would be loved, I ad 
 mit, not as, please God, I shall be loved by him,
 
 Abandoned 319 
 
 but he loves me. He doesn t know; he doesn t un 
 derstand. Wisdom will come to him and he will 
 come back." 
 
 " It might be so," admitted the man reluctantly. 
 " I came back. But he believes you dead." 
 
 " And did not you when you searched for me 
 during those three years?" 
 
 " No," answered Langford, " I had a confident 
 hope that somewhere you were alive." 
 
 u And will he not have that hope, too? " 
 
 " I cannot believe it." 
 
 There was a long, frightful pause. The woman 
 sighed deeply. 
 
 " It may be as you say. It may be that we are 
 separated forever. It may be that I shall never 
 look upon him again, or he upon me, but that 
 makes no difference. I do not love you. I cannot 
 love you. If he is dead, I shall love his memory 
 until I meet him, if so be I may be found worthy of 
 that, and I will keep myself for him. No other 
 man shall have what belongs to him." 
 
 They had stepped nearer the entrance of the 
 cave, which was a spacious one, as they spoke. The 
 beauty of the woman in that soft light was so in 
 tense that it cast over Langford a spell. He heard 
 the sound of her voice, but did not heed what she 
 said. Suddenly he caught her in his arms. 
 
 " Kate," he cried, " we are alone here, and I am 
 master. That is my ship yonder. I can have you
 
 320 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 bound hand and foot and take you aboard of her. 
 I will say that you are mad, that I am taking 
 you back to the United States to your friends. 
 You must come back with me. I can t let yoa 
 go." 
 
 "Valentine," said the woman quietly, "if you 
 do not instantly release me, I will kill you where 
 you stand. You don t realize how strong I am. 
 See!" 
 
 With a quick, sudden movement she caught his 
 arms with her free hands and literally tore them 
 apart. To her lithe and vigorous body she added 
 spirit and determination which made her indeed 
 more than a match for the slender, somewhat 
 broken man before her. 
 
 You see!" she cried. She stood between him 
 and the doorway, one hand outstretched, the fingers 
 open. " I could kill you before you left this cave. 
 You told me that you had sent your men back to the 
 ship and that you were alone upon the island, and 
 I could hide where I hid before and they would find 
 your dead body here upon the sands. That would 
 be all." 
 
 " Kill me if you wish," said the man recklessly. 
 " I don t care. Perhaps that would be the better 
 way." 
 
 " No," said the woman, " I respect you too much 
 for that." 
 
 "Respect me?"
 
 Abandoned 321 
 
 , " Yes. You have shown me what you are by what 
 you have done, all but this mad action of a moment 
 since, and I can understand that, my friend, for I 
 too love, and it seems to me that I would brook any 
 thing, everything, for one moment like that you fain 
 would have enjoyed. But we are not children, 
 neither are we savages to act like beasts of prey. I 
 forgive you, I trust you." She came close to him 
 and laid her hand upon his arm. " I respect you, 
 I admire you ! " 
 
 " Everything," said the man, " but love me." 
 
 " Everything but that," assented the woman 
 quietly. 
 
 " I shan t offend again," returned Langford. 
 " Neither by force nor persuasion can I effect any 
 thing. Kate," he said after another pause, " come 
 back to the United States or to some civilized land. 
 The world is before you. I will land you where you 
 please and give you or lend you money enough to 
 enable you to go where you like. You shall be on 
 the yacht to me as my sister." 
 
 " It can t be," said the woman. " Don t you see 
 that I can accept no favors from you ? " 
 
 " But no one need ever know. I will discharge 
 the crew of the yacht in some South African port. 
 They will scatter . . ." 
 
 " God would know and I would know, and when 
 I see the Man, my Man, again I would have to tell 
 him. It would make it harder for him, harder for
 
 322 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 me. And I don t want to go back. I will wait 
 here for him." 
 
 " Kate," said the man impulsively, " it was un 
 generous of me not to have told you before. They 
 took him away from the island senseless, raving 
 with brain fever. He collapsed, stricken as if dead, 
 on the sand by that little heap of clothes and the 
 Bible which bore your message. He thought you 
 dead. He left the ship in the early morning to 
 seek you. The shock was too much for him." 
 
 " He loved me, then," said the woman. 
 * Yes," said Langford, wringing the admission 
 from his lips, "he loved you enough almost to die 
 for you." 
 
 " But he is not dead. He was not when you left 
 the cruiser?" she cried in bitter appeal, her hand 
 on her heart. 
 
 "No, they signaled to me at noontime in answer 
 to my inquiry that the doctor thought he would 
 finally pull through, although it would be a long, 
 terrible siege; but if he dies, Kate, if I go back and 
 find that he is dead and come here . . ." 
 
 " Don t come back," said the woman. " Don t 
 tell anyone that I am here. Let no one ever come 
 back unless the promptings of his heart and the 
 leading of God should bring him to me." 
 
 "Is this your final, absolute decision?" 
 
 " My final and absolute decision. Nothing can 
 alter it, nothing, absolutely nothing."
 
 Abandoned 323 
 
 "O Kate!" 
 
 " Don t," said the woman. " It is useless and 
 only breaks your heart and wrings mine. Now, you 
 must go. No one has seen you from the yacht. 
 This cave is sheltered from where she lies. No 
 one need know that you have found me. Indeed, 
 I want you to give me your word of honor, to 
 swear it by all that you hold sacred, that you will 
 never tell anyone, much less him, that you came back 
 and found me alive." 
 
 "You set me a hard task," faltered the man. 
 
 " But I am sure," continued the woman, " it is 
 not too hard for you to accomplish. Come, you 
 have said you wanted to make amends. That is 
 all past now, forgotten and forgiven, but if you 
 really would make me happy, you will promise what 
 I say." 
 
 "And what is that, again?" 
 
 "On your word of honor as a gentleman, by all 
 that you hold sacred, you will never mention to a 
 human soul that you found me here alive." 
 
 " On my word, by all that I do hold sacred, by 
 my love for you, Kate, I will not speak unless in 
 some way you give me leave." 
 
 "So help you God!" said the woman sol 
 emnly. 
 
 " So help me God ! " replied the man with equal 
 gravity. 
 
 " And now you must go."
 
 324 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 " I have one request to make of you, Kate, be 
 fore I go," said Langford. 
 
 " If I can grant it, you may be assured I will." 
 
 "It is very easy. Will you stay in this cave for 
 two hours? " 
 
 " I have no watch," said the woman, " but I will 
 guess at the time as best I can." 
 
 " Then," said the man, " go down to the beach. 
 The yacht will be gone." 
 
 "Valentine," said the woman, "you don t mean 
 to stay here on the island?" 
 
 " I would stay gladly," returned the other, " if 
 I thought that I would be welcome, but I know that 
 cannot be." 
 
 " I will wait," said the woman. " Good-by !" 
 
 She extended her hand to him. He seized it in 
 his own trembling grasp and kissed it. He re 
 mained a moment with his lips pressed to her hand, 
 and she laid her other hand upon his bended head. 
 He heard her lips murmuring words of prayer. He 
 released her hand, stooped lower, laid something at 
 her feet, turned and resolutely marched out into 
 the sunlight. 
 
 The woman lifted her hand, the hand that he had 
 kissed. It was wet with tears. The man had left 
 her with a breaking heart. She sat down upon the 
 sand to think her thoughts during her two hours 
 wait. Her bare foot touched something metallic. 
 She bent over and picked it up. It was his watch.
 
 Abandoned 325 
 
 He had placed it there. The simple kindness, the 
 spontaneous generosity of the little action, moved 
 her as had not all his pleas, and she mingled her 
 own tears with his upon her hand. 
 
 It was a long wait, and yet he had given her 
 much to occupy her mind. His visit had saddened 
 her, but, more than that, it had gladdened her. 
 There was comfort, and any woman would have 
 taken it, in the thought that Langford had come 
 back to her. There was comfort, mingled with ap 
 prehension, in the thought that in the still hours of 
 the morning her companion had come ashore, she 
 divined, to sue for her forgiveness. There was 
 more comfort in the thought that he had not left her 
 voluntarily, but had been taken away helpless, ill. 
 There was most comfort in the thought that his be 
 lief that he had lost her had almost killed him. 
 
 There was dismay and sick apprehension in the 
 thought that he was ill and she was not there. And 
 yet despite herself a little gleam of hope sprang up 
 in her heart. He could not die, having been so 
 preserved for, lo, these many years. Some fate had 
 been marked out for him, some Providence would 
 watch over him, and some day he would come back 
 over the sea her Man! 
 
 She had guarded against any outside influence. 
 She had Langford s word, his solemn oath, that 
 under no circumstances would he tell anyone that 
 she was alive, least of all the man of all others she
 
 326 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 would fain have know it. But he would come back. 
 He could not live without once more visiting the 
 island, and when he came back, he would find her 
 waiting for him. 
 
 She looked at the watch after a while and found 
 that more than two hours had elapsed, nearly three. 
 The latter part of the time had fled swiftly in 
 thoughts of him. She was hungry and thirsty, too. 
 It was noon. She went out on the sands. The 
 yacht was nowhere to be seen. She could not yet 
 have got below the horizon. She divined that he 
 had sailed around the island and away in that di 
 rection. 
 
 There was a pile of boxes and things on the sand 
 above the high water mark. She stepped toward 
 it and opened one of the sea chests. It was filled 
 with books and papers, a strange collection. He 
 had ransacked the yacht for her. Another chest 
 contained provisions with which she had long been 
 unfamiliar. There were toilet articles, pieces of 
 cloth, writing paper, pencils, a heaping profusion 
 of all that he fancied she might need, that might 
 afford solace and companionship to her and alleviate 
 the loneliness of those hours. In her heart she 
 thanked him, and lifting up her hands, she blessed 
 him again. He had made life possible and toler 
 able to her. She could write, she could read, she 
 could sew. And all this while she could hope and 
 dream.
 
 BOOK VI 
 THE NEW LIFE
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A GREAT PURPOSE 
 
 LATE springtime in old Virginia. The climate was 
 not unlike that of the island during the cooler por 
 tions of the year, thought the man standing on 
 the porch of the high-pillared old brick house set 
 upon a hill overlooking the pale-green waters o 
 Hampton Roads which stretched far eastward past 
 Newport News and Old Point Comfort to the blue 
 of the Chesapeake, and far beyond that to the deeper 
 blue of the ocean. Back of him a thousand leagues 
 of land, and more than a thousand leagues of sea, 
 intervened between him and the object of his 
 thoughts. Not for a day, not for an hour, scarcely 
 for a moment even, was that island out of his mind. 
 There was pleasure and pain in the recollection of it. 
 Upon the man s face a stern melancholy had set 
 tled. Not the melancholy of ineptitude and indif 
 ference, not the melancholy that made him do noth 
 ing unmindful of the large issues of life in which 
 he had been suddenly plunged, not the melancholy 
 that paralyzed his activities, but the melancholy 
 that comes from the presence in the heart of an 
 abiding sorrow that neither time nor change nor 
 occupation could uproot; a melancholy that came 
 
 329
 
 330 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 from the sense of bereavement ever growing more 
 keen and more poignant as the period of bereave 
 ment lengthened, and which sprang from a con 
 sciousness of imperfections and failures for which 
 no after achievement could atone. 
 
 In some circumstances there is comfort in a death- 
 Jess memory, in the recollection of a presence that 
 has passed. There is solace in the dream touch of 
 the vanished hand, in the heart echo of the voice 
 that is stilled, if when the hand was warm and the 
 voice thrilled in the hollow of the ear, nothing was 
 done which could impair the sweetness and the 
 purity of the remembrance afterward. But this 
 man had slain the thing he loved. Guilt, as of a 
 murderer, was upon his soul. He could not throw 
 it off. 
 
 Had he been less a man, he would have sought 
 oblivion by following the path to death upon which 
 he fancied she had shown the way. When he came 
 to his senses in the cabin of the ship, weak, worn, 
 wasted as one who had gone through the very val 
 ley and shadow of death itself, and they had told 
 him, in answer to his eager questions, the truth 
 which he had divined ere he had been stricken down, 
 his first conscious resolution was to live worthy of 
 her remembrance. He had failed awfully once, 
 and before he could make amends she had vanished, 
 but somewhere beyond the stars he believed she 
 knew his present purpose. Unless men s hopes for
 
 The New Life 331 
 
 the future were all a dream, unless their desires and 
 aspirations were like the baseless fabric of every 
 other vision, he knew that she would know. He 
 would show to her and for her memory s sake that 
 he could be a man. To die would have been far 
 better for him, but he would live on, live on for her. 
 He would do things in the world, and couple her 
 name with them. Men should know what she had 
 been through him, he would cause her to be remem 
 bered, and some day, when he had worked out his 
 punishment, howsoever long it should please God to 
 require it of him, he would be worthy of her in 
 that high place to which she had gone. 
 
 It was that, and that alone, which enabled him 
 to endure the consciousness that he had killed her, 
 the good being he loved, the sweet being he adored, 
 the pure being whom he would fain have cherished 
 too late! He lashed himself with that thought 
 as the devotees of old scourged their bodies until 
 the blood ran, in some futile effort thus to purify 
 their souls. As it were he wore next to his skin the 
 hair shirt of the ancient martyr, allowing it to chafe 
 his very vitals. And yet he lived to accomplish his 
 purpose. 
 
 It had not been difficult to establish his rights. 
 Whittaker and the chaplain, armed with the deposi 
 tions, had taken the man across the continent when 
 the ship had been put out of commission at San 
 Francisco, and presented him to his uncle, the Char-
 
 332 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 nock in residence in that great house on the Nanse- 
 mond shore overlooking that estuary of the James 
 by Hampton Roads. The old man, childless and 
 alone, had welcomed him gladly. The newcomer 
 was of the Charnock blood. It was a strange mo 
 ment for the islander when they took him into the 
 great drawing-room and showed him the pictures 
 of his father and of his mother. He was the liv 
 ing image of the man, tempered with some of the 
 woman s sweetness. This remarkable likeness in 
 deed he was not unlike his uncle as well coupled 
 with the material proofs, the ring, the Bible, the 
 evidence of the ship, together with what was known, 
 removed every lingering doubt from the minds of 
 those most concerned. 
 
 The family was reduced to those two, the uncle 
 and the nephew. Ttie old man formally and le 
 gally recognized the relationship and offered to 
 transfer the property rightfully his, which since the 
 discovery of coal had increased enormously in value, 
 to the newcomer, but Charnock would have none 
 of it then. He recognized his unfitness to deal with 
 such things. If the older man would retain it, 
 he could give it to him at his death. Meanwhile 
 he could teach and train him how to use it. Bereft 
 of his one guide, his one inspiration in life, he would 
 need wise counsel and careful leading indeed. 
 
 In addition to the formal recognition, the older 
 man legally adopted the younger and constituted
 
 The New Life 333 
 
 him the heir to his own property, which was almost 
 as extensive and as valuable as that which rightly 
 belonged to the nephew. And then, these formal 
 ities being completed, the lieutenant-commander and 
 the chaplain, summoned elsewhere by their duties, 
 bade the two farewell and left them. 
 
 Charnock could not have fallen into better hands. 
 Education was his first requirement, and he ap 
 plied himself to it with a fierce energy and a grim 
 determination which presently, from the splendid 
 foundation which had been laid by the woman, en 
 abled him to progress sufficiently to take his place 
 and hold his own with men and women. It was 
 impossible to keep secret forever the details of such 
 a story as his, especially when it was linked with a 
 name once so famous and still remembered as that 
 of Katharine Brenton, and it had been decided by 
 Captain Ashby and Whittaker and the man himself 
 that such portions of it as would suffice to explain 
 his own presence and her fate should be given to the 
 world. Upon the foundation thus afforded, romance 
 builded. Charnock immediately became a marked 
 man. He would have been a marked man in any 
 event from the financial power that he possessed. 
 His uncle s management had been wise and prudent, 
 he had spent little and had saved much, so that 
 Charnock found himself the possessor of vast riches 
 in the form of available capital. 
 
 Among the first things that he learned was the
 
 334 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 power of money. Had he not been steadied by the 
 memory of the woman, he would probably have 
 learned it to his sorrow. As it was, he was almost 
 miserly. He spent little upon himself. His wants 
 were astonishingly few, and contact with the world 
 did not develop extravagant ideas. Those were 
 things which he was too old to learn, against which 
 he had been anchored. He was saving what he had 
 and what he could get for some great purpose, a 
 purpose of help, of assistance in which he could com 
 memorate her name, for which future generations 
 should rise up and call her blessed. 
 
 He had long talks with his uncle about it. The 
 old man would fain have had his nephew marry and 
 carry on the ancient line. Delicately, tenderly, he 
 broached the subject after a time, but the suggestion 
 met with absolute refusal. Women interested Char- 
 nock as men did. Indeed, his interest in his kind 
 was intense. The intellectual stimulus of conversa 
 tions with bright, intelligent people was the most 
 entrancing result of his contact with the world. But 
 none of them touched his heart. That was buried 1 
 on that gemlike island in the far-off sea. 
 
 He was a man of unusual force of character, 
 prompt and unyielding decision. His uncle had not 
 lived his long life without being able to estimate 
 men. He recognized very early in the undertaking 
 the futility of argument, and though he tried finesse 
 in the presence of the wittiest, the cleverest, and
 
 The New Life 335 
 
 most beautiful women of Virginia and elsewhere, 
 for the two traveled throughout the United States, 
 welcomed everywhere, his efforts were all unavail 
 ing. There was more than one woman who would 
 gladly have accepted the man s suit; whom, if he 
 had wooed her ever so slightly, he could have won, 
 but he was friendly with everyone and in love with 
 none. 
 
 At the end of two years society gave him up as 
 confirmed in his isolation and loneliness. He was 
 not the less welcome, but he was no longer a matri 
 monial possibility, nor was he any more the wonder 
 that he had been. New things engrossed public 
 attention. The world presently took Charnock as 
 he would fain have it take him, as a matter of 
 course. 
 
 He did things slowly, not because that was his 
 nature, but from an invincible determination to do 
 things right. He made his plans deliberately, and 
 had formulated an enterprise so comprehensive in 
 its scope, so vast in its outlay, and with such infinite 
 possibilities of help to the poor, the wretched, the 
 down-trodden classes of society, that, when the fore- 
 shadowings of it were announced, people stood 
 amazed. An undertaking so great was not within 
 the power even of Charnock. His resources were 
 utterly unequal to it, but he had enough to make a 
 magnificent beginning, and by devoting to it the 
 whole revenue of his estate, and the estate itself
 
 336 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 after he died, gradually the enterprise would be 
 achieved. 
 
 There was no necessity for secrecy about it. In 
 deed, with that simplicity and candor so unusual and 
 so unconventional, which touch with the world had 
 never been able to alter, he had spoken of his plans 
 without reserve, and he had declared with equal 
 frankness that what he was doing was in memory of 
 the noblest and the truest of women to whom he 
 owed it that he was a human being and not an 
 animal. 
 
 Whittaker, of whose judgment he thought highly 
 acid with desert, was called from the naval service 
 to be executive head of the great undertaking. The 
 spiritual work was to be placed in the hands of the 
 chaplain who had so endeared himself to the pro 
 moter and deviser of it all. Charnock realized that 
 these men who had known Katharine Brenton would 
 enter more sympathetically into his views and could 
 be depended upon to carry them out in case anything 
 happened to him. He and his uncle and one or 
 two others of excellent judgment whom he had met, 
 were associated with the two mentioned to carry out 
 all the founder s plans. 
 
 Now, this thing was not done in a corner. The 
 news of it was carried over the United States and 
 spread even to foreign lands. The world read it 
 and marveled again. A newspaper carrying an ac 
 count of it fell under the eye of a lonely man in
 
 The New Life 337 
 
 San Francisco who had just returned from a long 
 voyage in northern seas. The name "Charnock" 
 caught his eye first, and then Langford saw the name 
 of the woman he loved. He read with avidity, ap 
 preciating as none could better do than he from his 
 trained business acumen the scope and yet the feasi 
 bility of the undertaking. He had wondered cynic 
 ally what would be the career of the man in the 
 United States. He knew the value, as did every 
 business man, especially every man with large trans 
 portation interests like his, of the Charnock estate. 
 He would have wagered that Charnock would lose 
 his head as ninety-nine men out of a hundred would 
 have done, and that, intoxicated by the sudden touch 
 of the material world which was at his feet, he 
 would have gone the usual pace; and he would have 
 won his wager had it not been for the immortal mem 
 ory of the woman they both loved, he felt bitterly 
 enough. He had not followed Charnock s career. 
 Committing his own large business interests to 
 those upon whose judgment and integrity he could 
 rely, he had gone restlessly about the world in the 
 Southern Cross, seeking by change to drown his own 
 sorrow, which was as deep as, even deeper than, 
 Charnock s, because he knew that the woman he 
 loved lived. He had to face the possibility that at 
 any time others might discover that fact, and that 
 Charnock among the rest would learn it, and then 
 . . . It was that thought that drove him on, it
 
 338 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 was that thought that broke him down. He was 
 a sick man, almost a dying man, as he steamed 
 through the Golden Gate and landed from the yacht 
 that spring morning. He did not care, he had 
 nothing for which to live. His love for the woman 
 had grown and grown until it had possessed him 
 and transformed him. His expiation was indeed 
 a fearful one, for there was no end to it but his 
 death, and he felt that would be welcome. 
 
 He had to set his affairs in order, or he would 
 have stayed at sea and let his life go out there, di 
 recting that his body should be sunk in the great 
 waters which washed the distant shores where her 
 foot trod. Indeed, when he was on the Pacific he 
 seemed somehow to be in touch with her. A hun 
 dred times the order to steer southward to that 
 gemlike island had trembled upon his lips, but he 
 had held it back. He knew what that woman was; 
 that her " Yea, yea " and her " Nay, nay " could not 
 be changed by any power that he could wield, and 
 so he had stayed away. And now he came back to 
 San Francisco, a sick man and about to die. 
 
 He sat alone in his office in the great building and 
 pondered over the account in the paper. He had 
 been mistaken in the man. He was really worth 
 while. He had amounted to something. He was 
 worthy of the woman. If he had not sworn an 
 oath, given his word. . . . He hesitated, smil 
 ing bitterly. The woman alone could release him.
 
 The New Life 339 
 
 Should he sail down to the island with that paper 
 and tell that story. He knew that he could not do 
 it. He had not the strength. There was not time. 
 He had v/aited too long. The army surgeons in 
 Alaska had told him the brutal truth; that he had 
 but a few months to live, and that if he had any 
 thing to do before he went out into the beyond, he 
 would better do it quickly. No, he could not go 
 down there and tell her and get released from his 
 promise. 
 
 Yet how Charnock would revel in such news aa 
 he, and he alone, could give him ! He loved the 
 woman and he hated the man. He could not bear 
 to think that the man should have what was denied 
 him. He could not bear to think of the woman he 
 loved in another s arms. And yet he loved the 
 woman. As he pictured Charnock happy, so he 
 pictured Kate sad, fretting out her life on that is 
 land as he had fretted out his on the ship. And he 
 could make her happy by a word if he broke his 
 oath and was false to the promise he had given her. 
 Should he do it for her sake? Would she forgive 
 him? He would be past forgiveness when she 
 knew. 
 
 Which was the stronger, his love for the woman 
 or his hatred for the man? If he spoke at all, it 
 would be for her sake, naught else. Would the 
 man understand that, would she? Whatever hap 
 pened, he had possessed her; she had been his for
 
 34 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 brief hours. Did he have the strength now to give 
 her to someone else, even though he were dead? 
 Being dead, would he know? 
 
 The struggle racked and tore him in his heart. 
 He could come to no decision, at least not then. 
 What he would do later would depend upon cir 
 cumstances. One thing he could do, and that was 
 to go and find the man. Attending to such matters 
 as were most pressing and taking the precaution to 
 make his will, a strange will, at which his attorney 
 ventured to remonstrate unavailingly, at last he 
 started on that journey across the continent in his 
 private car. He had left the car at Suffolk, Vir 
 ginia, and with a motor which had been transported 
 with him he ran up the west side of the inlet until 
 he came to the manor house which a local guide, 
 picked up by the way, pointed out to him.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A PROMISE BROKEN 
 
 IT was that same late spring morning when John 
 Charnock sat on the porch overlooking the pale 
 waters of Hampton Roads past Newport News and 
 Old Point Comfort and the blue waters of the Ches 
 apeake and the bluer ocean beyond. The motor car 
 was stopped outside the great gate at the end of 
 the long avenue of trees which led to the river road. 
 It could have been driven in, but as he approached 
 the house more nearly, with his mind still in a state 
 of indecision, in order further to collect his thoughts 
 and because he was tired from the long ride and be 
 cause he would not trespass on Charnock more than 
 was absolutely necessary, Langford decided to walk. 
 Now the sight of a passing automobile was not 
 unusual, and Charnock glanced at it indifferently 
 enough until it stopped at the gate. That was out of 
 the common, for most of those who came to visit him 
 in such fashion turned in the drive and stopped 
 before the long flight of steps that led down 
 from the porch to the terrace and from the terrace 
 to the lower level of the lawn. He did not recog 
 nize the tall, slender figure which came slowly up the 
 path by the side of the drive under the great arch of 
 trees. Still, as the man drew nearer, he arose and 
 
 341
 
 342 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 with true Virginian hospitality, a hospitality he had 
 easily learned since it was in his blood, he descended 
 the steps to the terrace and would have descended 
 farther to the roadway but that he suddenly recog 
 nized the visitor. He stopped dead still, surprised, 
 amazed. Langford started, hesitated, threw back 
 his head and came resolutely on. He mounted the 
 first flight of steps and, as he did so, Charnock 
 turned, drew back a little to make way for him, and 
 the two men faced each other upon the terrace. 
 
 "Great God! " cried the Virginian at last, "you 
 of all men. What are you doing here?" 
 
 His brow was dark, his hands were clenched. 
 
 "Why not I?" answered Langford coolly, a bit 
 ter smile on his lips. 
 
 " You say that to me after all that you have 
 done?" 
 
 " Man," said the other, " didn t I do everything 
 under heaven that man could do to undo it. She 
 forgave me. Can t you?" 
 
 " No ! " answered Charnock, moving toward him. 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Langford. " Is your own record 
 so clear? Have you nothing with which to re 
 proach yourself? I ruined her life; yes, I grant it; 
 but you drove her to suicide. Why have I not the 
 right to fault you even as you seem to claim the 
 right to fault me? We have both sinned against 
 that woman, but at least in those final hours I did 
 my best for her. Did you?"
 
 The New Life 343 
 
 Charnock hesitated. No one had ever spoken to 
 him like that. He had said these things to himself 
 many times, but no one else had ever assumed or 
 presumed to do so, and had anyone but this man 
 ventured upon such words, he would have met with 
 short shift indeed. But there was so much justice 
 and so much truth in what Langford said that, re 
 sentful though he was, hating the man as he did, 
 he could not be blind to it. 
 
 "You are right," he admitted at last, but with 
 great reluctance. " There is more guilt on my soul 
 than yours, but no other man under heaven should 
 have told me so." 
 
 " Nor should I have told it to any other man," 
 returned Langford. 
 
 " But that doesn t explain why you come here." 
 
 "Why!" exclaimed the other. "I don t really 
 know." 
 
 In that instant the tension under which he held 
 himself gave way. He reeled slightly, put his hand 
 to his heart. For the first time Charnock noticed 
 how white he was, how sick and wretched he looked. 
 Although he could not bear to touch the man, there 
 was unconscious appeal in his weakness which the 
 stronger man could not resist. He sprang instantly 
 to his side. He caught him by the arm. 
 
 "What s the matter?" he asked almost roughly. 
 11 You look ill, weak, suffering." 
 
 " It is nothing," answered Langford, struggling
 
 344 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 manfully to control himself and to fight back the 
 ever tightening pain about his heart. " My time s 
 about up. If I could sit down somewhere . . I " 
 
 " Here," cried Charnock. 
 
 He half led, half carried the man, supporting him 
 wth his powerful arms to a seat on the terrace, 
 across which the shadow of the house fell in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Thank you," said Langford. " Now," he 
 fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a little phial 
 with shaking fingers, "if you will be kind enough 
 to open that and give me one of these," he gasped, 
 " I am hardly up to it." 
 
 Quickly, deftly, Charnock took the phial, opened 
 it, placed one of the tablets in the other s hand and 
 waited anxiously. Above on the porch a servant 
 appeared and him Charnock bade bring water, wine, 
 restoratives. Presently Langford recovered him 
 self, the powerful medicine acted, the tearing pain 
 at his heart abated. It left him fearfully weak 
 and broken, but his own master. 
 
 "Well," he said with cynical bitterness, "you 
 
 see." 
 
 " Yes," answered Charnock gravely, " I see." 
 " I am going in one of those some day, and 
 mighty soon now, and it is because of that that I 
 came to see you. I wanted to talk to you about 
 her." 
 
 " No man speaks to me about her."
 
 The New Life 345 
 
 " But you can t refuse the dying, you know. You 
 can t go away and leave me here. You can t stop 
 me by force. When I am weak, I am strong, " he 
 quoted almost sardonically. 
 
 " I shall not leave you," said Charnock. " You 
 are paying for what you did. My God, I could 
 envy you your going. Do you think life is sweet 
 and pleasant to me with the memory of what I did 
 rankling? " 
 
 " No, I suppose not," said Langford, " but I 
 didn t really come so much to talk about her as to 
 talk about you." 
 
 " I can t conceive that I am a proper subject for 
 your conversation." 
 
 He said it firmly but not unkindly. Langford 
 was too pitiable a spectacle for that. 
 
 " It s about your project," went on the other. 
 "Will you tell me about it?" 
 
 " Haven t you read the papers? " 
 
 "Yes, but I want to hear from your own lips 
 what you propose to do. I am a business man ac 
 customed to large affairs. I want to hear with my 
 own ears all about it." 
 
 Charnock hesitated. After all, why not ? Stand 
 ing before the other, he outlined all his plans. 
 Rapidly, dramatically, concisely, he builded before 
 the other s eyes the castle of his dreams. 
 
 " It is to be for her, a memorial to her, you see, 
 so that her name shall be remembered and prayers
 
 346 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 and blessings called down upon her head by genera 
 tions yet unborn." 
 
 " It is a practicable scheme," said Langford, 
 " and a great one. Who has it in charge?" 
 
 " Men you know," answered Charnock, rapidly 
 naming them. 
 
 "They can make it go if anybody can. I con 
 gratulate you upon it. It is a great idea. As 
 usual," he laughed bitterly, " you have got ahead of 
 me. While you have been working and living these 
 two years, I have been idling and dying. But I can 
 make some amends at least. You will see presently. 
 Now, I must go." 
 
 He rose unsteadily to his feet. 
 
 "Wait!" said Charnock. "I never thought to 
 do this. I never thought to speak to you again. 
 But you can t go now. You are in no state to travel, 
 even in an automobile. You must come to the 
 house until you recover yourself, get a rest over 
 night, let me send for a physician. I don t mean 
 that there can be friendship between us. There is 
 too much in the past that keeps us apart. I have 
 never before been glad that I didn t break you when 
 I held you in my arms upon the sand. But I don t 
 know, if she forgave you, I can do it. May be by 
 that I can earn some forgiveness myself. We were 
 both fools, and you were knave, but you were man 
 at last. I wasn t. Stay here. I won t disturb 
 you."
 
 The New Life 347 
 
 "By heavens!" said Langford, flushing, "you 
 are man now. No, I won t stay, but I thank you 
 for your offer, and I will pay you for it." 
 
 Charnock put up his hand. 
 
 " I want no pay." 
 
 " Nevertheless, you shall have it," insisted the 
 other. " I will give you a word of advice although 
 to do it damns me ! " 
 
 He paused, laid his hand upon his heart again, 
 clenched the clothing about his breast as if he would 
 fain tear it off. He was white once more, the sud 
 den flush had gone, but his lips were set deter 
 minedly. 
 
 " Listen well to what I tell you," he said slowly. 
 " I break my word to do it. I am false to my oath 
 in what I say. Nevertheless I say it. Go back to 
 the island!" 
 
 "What?" cried Charnock. 
 
 "Didn t you hear me?" asked the man, intense 
 bitterness in his voice. Now that he had made the 
 plunge, he realized more keenly than ever what it 
 meant to him even in the very articles of death to 
 think of Charnock and the woman. " Do I have 
 to say it again?" he went on. "Go back to the 
 island." 
 
 His voice rose until he almost cried the five words 
 In Charnock s face. The Virgianian stood abso 
 lutely appalled. Langford looked at him a mo 
 ment, laughed bitterly, turned, and went slowly
 
 348 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 down the steps. More than ever he hated him. 
 In one bound Charnock was by his side. 
 
 " You have said too much or too little," he cried, 
 laying his hand upon the other. "What do you 
 mean? Why should I go back to the island? Is 
 she there? " 
 
 In his agitation, he even shook the frailer, 
 slighter, feebler form of the man who had just ut 
 tered those words. 
 
 "Unless," said Langford coolly, "you want me 
 to die on your threshold, you would better take off 
 your hand. The doctors told me that the least 
 physical violence or exertion would be fatal to me." 
 
 Releasing him, Charnock spoke again. 
 
 "But won t you tell me what you mean? Great 
 God, man, think what your words convey! " 
 
 " I will tell you nothing, nothing further. This 
 is my last will and testament to you. Though I die 
 here, I have nothing further to say to you than this : 
 Go back to the island. . . . Damn you ! " 
 
 He turned away again and went down the steps, 
 leaving Charnock standing staring after him. He 
 reeled slightly as he went, but he caught himself 
 and marched on with as great a resolution as ever 
 any soldier manifested in the point of danger. He 
 had displayed weakness once in the presence of his 
 enemy. He would not do it again. And while 
 Charnock stared at him, he stepped out through the 
 gate from under the trees, entered the big car and 
 was whirled away. 
 
 Left to himself, Charnock sat down upon the
 
 The New Life 349 
 
 bench and pressed his head in his hands, his 
 thoughts in a wild whirl. Go back to the island? 
 Why had he said that? Who was there? Did 
 some fantastic spirit of revenge send him half way 
 round the world on some fool s erand? Hatred 
 spoke in the man s voice. He had coupled his in 
 junction with a curse, which was a sufficient attest 
 to the bitterness of his feelings. And yet truth 
 spoke there, too. Go back to the island! What 
 could it mean? 
 
 A long time he sat resolving in his mind his 
 course, although he knew what it would be from the 
 very moment that the words had fallen from Lang- 
 ford s lips. He must go back, if for no other rea 
 son than to settle the doubt, to answer the question, 
 to satisfy the wild clamor of his soul, to kill the 
 hope that flashed into his breast at the other s 
 words. 
 
 His revery was interrupted by the arrival of a 
 strange negro. Langford had stopped at a village 
 tavern, it appeared, where he had procured writing 
 materials. He had paid the boy liberally to bring 
 the note to Charnock. The envelope was sealed. 
 Beneath his name was written these words: 
 
 " As you are a gentleman and respect the request of a 
 dead man, you will not open the envelope until you stand 
 upon the island." 
 
 Never was there such a prohibition. Never was 
 there such a consuming desire in the man s heart 
 to defy it and disregard it. Yet that vague, in-
 
 35 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 tangible thing we call honor, backed by a flimsy bit 
 of paper and paste, held Charnock with fetters of 
 steel. The envelope decided him. He rose to his 
 feet, entered the house, sent for his uncle, told him 
 the story and bade him get ready to start for San 
 Francisco that night. Whittaker and the chaplain, 
 summoned temporarily from the great undertaking, 
 joined them at Washington, and the little party 
 went rushing westward in a private car on a special 
 train as fast as steam and steel could take them. 
 And yet to the heart of the man their progress was 
 so slow that every hour he became more frantic 
 with impatience. 
 
 Back in the little village inn by the roadway 
 Langford, alone, lay dying. A strange lawyer 
 wrote a few letters for him confirming a will made 
 in San Francisco leaving every dollar he possessed 
 to Charnock s great undertaking on condition that 
 his name be not mentioned in it and that those who 
 cared for him might regard it as the end of a great 
 expiation. And so ministered unto by a strange 
 clergyman, he passes out of sight, having made 
 what amendment he could. He loved much in the 
 end, surely in the end much would be forgiven him ! 
 Poor Langford 1
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 UNITED 
 
 How awful had been those two years upon that 
 island ! They would have been completely insup 
 portable had it not been for the forethought and 
 kindness of Langford. The books were not such as 
 she would have chosen, but they were books at any 
 rate, and she knew them by heart. Of the cloth 
 that he had left, she had fashioned for herself such 
 simple garments as were suitable to her situation, 
 rejoicing that she was no longer compelled to wear 
 the rough, coarse, chafing grass tunics of the past. 
 The greatest blessing, however, of all that had 
 been left to her was the writing paper, the note 
 books, and pencils. They had given her occupation 
 after all other things had failed her, for she had 
 written down the story of her life. Not imagining 
 that they would ever be seen by human eyes, she had 
 poured her whole soul out on the pages. Every 
 incident had been gone over. Not Rousseau him 
 self had been franker in his " Confessions," but 
 here was only sweetness and light. She had 
 restricted her writing to a certain number of mo 
 ments daily in order to prolong the occupation as 
 much as possible, and she had carefully considered 
 everything ere she put it down.
 
 352 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 She had dwelt most of all on her three years of 
 life with the man on the island. She told of her 
 hopes, her fears, her trials, her struggles, her ambi 
 tions. She neglected nothing. She told of her 
 grief, her disappointment, of her further hope. 
 She burned her longing upon the white page. It 
 was such a revelation as would have thrilled the un 
 responsive human race if it could have read it. She 
 had a wonderful facility of expression, and writing 
 thus out of her heart, deathless words came upon 
 the smooth leaves. She loved to read it over from 
 time to time, thinking sadly of that other book 
 which had made so much of a stir in her world. 
 And so the work grew and grew under her hand 
 until upon a certain day in early summer it was 
 finished. 
 
 She would add no more to it. There were a few 
 blank pages left and a few stubs of pencil. These 
 she would reserve for what might come in the 
 future. If he came back to her, she would write it 
 down. If she stayed there until she died, when she 
 was old and lonely and broken, she would write 
 down her final words again and leave them for 
 whomsoever might chance upon the record in some 
 future hour. But when she rmd completed it, she 
 was strangely sad. It was as if another great chap 
 ter in her life had terminated, and she knew not 
 exactly how she could take it up again and go on 
 the unvarying round.
 
 The New Life 353 
 
 Twice daily she had gone to the heaven-kissing 
 hill high in the center of the island, where she had 
 laboriously builded another pyre for another beacon. 
 Morning and evening with unvarying routine she 
 had scanned the horizon, this time with an excellent 
 glass that Langford had left her. Not once had 
 she sighted a ship. He never came; no one ever 
 came. Hope gradually died away in her heart. 
 She wished now that she had not insisted that 
 Langford should not say that she was alive. Her 
 longing for a sight of the man she loved grew and 
 grew until each day found the burden of life without 
 him more terrible and unendurable than that of the 
 day before. Would he never come? Would she 
 live and grow old there and die there without 
 him? 
 
 
 
 If it had not been for the books and for her task, 
 she could not have survived. Her brain would 
 have gone, her voice would have gone. She kept 
 that in use by reading aloud day by day, page after 
 page, from one or the other of the volumes that 
 she had. 
 
 One evening she climbed wearily to the top of 
 the hill and listlessly swept the horizon, the bare, 
 vacant, unbroken horizon, which she had surveyed 
 morning and evening all these years. She expected 
 nothing, but suddenly there sprang into the object 
 glass of the telescope a dark blur which she had 
 never seen before. Her hand trembled so that she
 
 354 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 almost dropped the glass. She strove to pick up 
 that object again, but could not do it in her nervous 
 agitation. Finally she lay down upon the hill and 
 rested her arms upon a little rise of ground, and 
 thus steadying the glass, managed to find it once 
 more. It could be nothing but the smoke of a 
 ship! 
 
 The sky was without a cloud; she could not be 
 deceived. It was miles away, of course, yet if the 
 ship was visible to her, the island would be more 
 visible on account of its vast bulk comparatively to 
 those aboard of her. The ship, if it were bound on 
 some trading voyage, would probably pass by. 
 What should she do? She had sworn that she 
 would stay on that island, live and die there, unless 
 he came to fetch her, but the longing to see him, to 
 hear about him, to know what had become of him, 
 had grown so great that her resolution was trembling 
 in the balance, and in the smoke of that passing ship 
 it vanished into thin air. 
 
 She had means of striking a light which Langford 
 had left her, which methodically and mechanically 
 she always brought with her when she climbed up 
 the crest of the hill to seek for a sail. She lifted 
 the matches and approached the beacon. She re 
 membered how once before she had lighted that 
 beacon; she remembered how he had pleaded with 
 her not to do so, how in doing it she had brought 
 the world upon her with such terrible consequences
 
 The New Life 355 
 
 to her. Should she do it again? What would hap 
 pen if she did? She laid the matches down and 
 lifted the glass once more. Yes, the ship was still 
 there! She was so far away indeed that the short 
 time which had elapsed would have made no change 
 in her apparent position. 
 
 She looked back to the westward. The sun was 
 setting. There would be no twilight. Darkness 
 would come swiftly. If she did not light that 
 beacon, the ship would pass in the night. If she 
 did light it, the darkness would lend force and 
 efficiency to it. No ship would disregard such a 
 light in such a quarter. Should she do it? 
 
 In one swift moment her resolution was taken. 
 She dropped the glass, turned to the box of matches 
 which she had hoarded for this very purpose, knelt 
 down, struck one of them, watched the blue flame 
 develop and swell out in the still air, paused for a 
 moment hesitant, touched the light to the inflam 
 mable mass of dead wood at the base of the pile. 
 In one instant the flames were roaring amid the 
 larger timbers, as they had roared on that morning 
 nearly two years ago. For one instant she would 
 have torn down the pyre and scattered the flame, 
 but it was not within her power. Nothing could 
 stop that raging blaze now. 
 
 As the flames crackled up through the wood, leap 
 ing and catching, the sun sank and the darkness 
 fell. Her last act ere the curtain of night shut her
 
 356 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 in had been to fix her glass upon the faint blur 
 of smoke. Now she could see nothing. It was a 
 moonless night, but bright with stars. She moved 
 away from the fire and sat down as she had sat be 
 fore, sheltered by the peak, to watch the sea. Now 
 that she had done what she had sworn not to do, 
 she was eager for the success of her attempt. In 
 deed, she thought that if yon ship did not see that 
 fire and did not come to the island and take her off, 
 this time she would really die; she could not stand 
 another disappointment. 
 
 And so she waited, wondering, through long 
 hours while the flames exhausted themselves and by 
 and by fell to a heap of glowing ashes. Suddenly 
 there leaped out through the darkness a distant 
 twinkle of light. It was too low for a star. Feel 
 ing for the telescope, she found it and with difficulty 
 focussed it on the tiny spark. It was a red light, 
 the light of a ship ! The vessel had seen the signal. 
 It was nearer, much nearer now. She knew about 
 how far such a light could be seen. The ship was 
 coming toward her. She almost fainted from the 
 revulsion of feeling from hope to certainty, from 
 anxiety to assurance. 
 
 As she watched it, she suddenly saw a dash of 
 sparks from the smoke stack. Fixing her eyes on 
 the light again, she thought she caught a glimpse of 
 a white blur. For a moment her heart sank at the 
 thought that it might be Langford s yacht, and yet
 
 The New Life 357 
 
 even his vessel would be welcome, any boat, indeed. 
 The light grew larger. The night was very still, 
 the sea entirely calm; sound carried a great way 
 under such circumstances. Presently she heard the 
 throb and beat of a screw. The vessel was coming 
 nearer. There was some faint light from the many 
 stars above her head. She thought she could make 
 out the bulk of the ship. 
 
 It was close at hand now. She must go down to 
 the beach to meet it. She rose to her feet and 
 started down the hill. She went slowly, cautiously 
 at first, but finally she broke into a reckless run. 
 She strayed from the path in her excitement, her 
 foot caught in a projecting root. A sharp, excru 
 ciating pain shot through her. Something seemed 
 to break in her ankle. She pitched forward on her 
 face and lay still. 
 
 When she came to her senses light was shining 
 in her eyes. Men stood about her holding ships 
 lanterns. Someone bent over her as someone had 
 bent over her five years before when she lay sense 
 less on the sand. A voice she knew called to her; 
 arms to whose touch she thrilled gathered her up; 
 she felt a heart beat against her own. He had 
 come back. He was there. 
 
 " Woman," said the man, " I have come back 
 to you." 
 
 " Man," returned the woman, oblivious of those 
 who stood around, holding the lights, to whom she
 
 358 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 gave no single thought indeed they were those who 
 knew her well "Man," she asked, true to her re 
 solution, " do you love me as much as on that 
 night?" 
 
 " More, a thousand times ! " 
 
 "And do you think me worthy . . .?" 
 
 " Do not ask! It is I who am unworthy of you." 
 
 " I can die now," said the woman softly, lapsing 
 into unconsciousness again. 
 
 "Great God! " cried the man, straining her to his 
 breast again, " have I found her only to lose her." 
 
 " Let me look," said the surgeon whom by good 
 chance they had picked up at San Francisco. " She 
 didn t look like a dying woman a moment since. 
 Lay her down, man, and stand back." 
 
 Whittaker and the chaplain pulled Charnock 
 aside. The surgeon took his place by the prostrate 
 figure. 
 
 " Lights here ! " he cried. He made such rapid 
 examination as he could, seeing in a moment one 
 foot lying inert, out of place, and helpless. " She s 
 only fainted," he said. " It s her ankle. She s 
 broken it in the darkness coming to meet us. We 
 will take her to the ship." 
 
 " No," said the man, " she must come of her own 
 free will. Send to the ship for bandages and what 
 ever you require." 
 
 " Very well," said the surgeon, rising and con 
 ferring hastily with Mr. Whittaker. " Meanwhile,
 
 The New Life 359 
 
 your handkerchiefs, gentlemen, and some cold 
 water." 
 
 "There is a spring hereabouts," said the man, 
 "on the other side of the hill." 
 
 " I will fetch the water," said the chaplain. 
 
 He was wearing a tightly woven straw hat in 
 which he could easily carry it. 
 
 Mr. Whittaker turned and ran to the beach, 
 whence he sent the boat off to the ship. The sur 
 geon meanwhile had bound up the woman s ankle, 
 had bathed it with water and whiskey, and had 
 forced some of the spirit down the woman s throat, 
 but the man s touch, his presence, would have suf 
 ficed to call her back to life. 
 
 " Do you suffer? " he asked tenderly as conscious 
 ness returned to her. 
 
 " Not since you are here," she said. " I ran to 
 meet the ship and fell and hurt my ankle." 
 
 The doctor has fixed it up for you. We have 
 sent to the ship for bandages." 
 
 " Man," she said, "whose ship is it?" 
 
 " Mine." 
 
 "Did you see my signal?" 
 
 Yes, we were glad because it told us that you 
 were alive, but we were coming directly here." 
 
 " And did you come for me? " 
 
 " For you only." 
 
 "How did you know that I was here?" 
 
 " I didn t know it."
 
 360 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 "Why did you come, then?" 
 
 " I was sent here." 
 
 "Who sent you?" 
 
 " Langford." 
 
 "Did he tell you I was here?" 
 
 " No, he told me to go back to the island, that 
 was all." 
 
 "Nothing more?" 
 
 "He gave me a letter which I was to open when 
 I set foot upon it." 
 
 " Open it now," said the woman. 
 
 She had risen to a sitting position. He knelt be 
 side her, his arm around her supporting her. He 
 carried the letter in his pocket. He had slipped it 
 there as he started for the shore. He took it out 
 and handed it to her. 
 
 " You may open it," he said. 
 
 With trembling fingers she tore the envelope. 
 Inside there was nothing for him, but a smaller en 
 velope addressed to her. The chaplain held the 
 light close to enable them to see. 
 
 " It is for me," she said, " not for you." 
 
 " Yes," said Charnock gravely, stifling a spasm 
 of jealousy in his heart. 
 
 She laid it in his hand. 
 
 " You may open it." 
 
 " Not I," returned the man, touched by this con 
 fidence. " It is for you." 
 
 Without more ado she tore open the second en-
 
 The New Life 361 
 
 velope. A little slip of paper fell from it. His 
 message was astonishingly brief. While Charnock 
 resolutely averted his head, she read these words: 
 
 " I broke my word once to your sorrow ; I break it again 
 to your joy. Won t you try to remember, now that I am 
 gone, that I tried to make amends and that I gave him 
 back to you." 
 
 She stared at the paper a moment, and then she 
 read the simple words aloud. 
 
 Charnock understood vaguely that .in some way 
 Langford had known that the woman was alive 
 how he could ascertain later and that she had 
 made him promise not to tell; that he had broken 
 his promise, and died. 
 
 " Now that I am gone ! I don t understand the 
 words," said the woman. 
 
 They are his last words, I take it," answered 
 the man. " He looked like a dead man when he 
 came to me at my house in Virginia and told me to 
 go back to the island." 
 
 " Poor Langford ! " said the woman. 
 
 " May God have mercy on him ! " added the old 
 chaplain solemnly. He knew the story, too. 
 "Do you forgive him, my child?" asked the old 
 man as he, too, turned away to leave these two 
 alone. 
 
 " With all my heart," answered the woman.
 
 362 The Island of Regeneration 
 
 "And do you forgive me?" asked Charnock 
 softly. 
 
 "With all my heart!" again answered the 
 woman, but with a change in the intonation that 
 made all the difference in the world between the 
 two statements. 
 
 She turned her face toward him. She reached 
 her arms up to his neck as he bent over her. She 
 forgot everything in the long kiss he pressed upon 
 her trembling lips while he held her close to his 
 heart, in that still and starry night, on that gem-like 
 island of regeneration, in that far Pacific sea. 
 
 THE END
 
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