flicker out. We, the players, flagged not in that desperate masque; but we knew
that, in spite of all endeavor, the darkness was coming fast upon us.
Had it been possible, we would have escaped from the ship, hazarding new
fortunes on the Spanish Main, in an open boat, sans food or water. But the
pirates watched us very closely. They called me "captain" and "Kirby," and for the
jest's sake gave an exaggerated obedience, with laughter and flourishes; but
none the less I was their prisoner, - I and those I had brought with me to that
ship.
An islet, shaped like the crescent moon, rose from out the sea before us. We
needed water, and so we felt our way between the horns of the crescent into the
blue crystal of a fairy harbor. One low hill, rose-colored from base to summit, with
scarce a hint of the green world below that canopy of giant bloom, a little silver
beach with wonderful shells upon it, the sound of a waterfall and a lazy surf, - we
smelt the fruits and the flowers, and a longing for the land came upon us. Six
men were left on the ship, and all besides went ashore. Some rolled the water
casks toward the sound of the cascade; others plunged into the forest, to return
laden with strange and luscious fruits, birds, guanas, conies, - whatever eatable
thing they could lay hands upon; others scattered along the beach to find turtle
eggs, or, if fortune favored them, the turtle itself. They laughed, they sang, they
swore, until the isle rang to their merriment. Like wanton children, they called to
each other, to the screaming birds, to the echoing bloom-draped hill.
I spread a square of cloth upon the sand, in the shadow of a mighty tree that
stood at the edge of the forest, and the King's ward took her seat upon it, and
looked, in the golden light of the sinking sun, the very spirit of the isle. By this we
two were alone on the beach. The hunters for eggs, led by Diccon, were out
upon the farthest gleaming horn; from the wood came the loud laughter of the
fruit gatherers, and a most rollicking song issuing from the mighty chest of Master
Jeremy Sparrow. With the woodsmen had gone my lord.
I walked a little way into the forest, and shouted a warning to Sparrow against
venturing too far. When I returned to the giant tree and the cloth in the shadow of
its outer branches, my wife was writing on the sand with a pointed shell. She had
not seen or heard me, and I stood behind her and read what she wrote. It was
my name. She wrote it three times, slowly and carefully; then she felt my
presence, glanced swiftly up, smiled, rubbed out my name, and wrote Sparrow's,
Diccon's, and the King's in succession. "Lest I should forget to make my letters,"
she explained.
I sat down at her feet, and for some time we said no word. The light, falling
between the heavy blooms, cast bright sequins upon her dress and dark hair.
The blooms were not more pink than her cheeks, the recesses of the forest
behind us not deeper or darker than her eyes. The laughter and the song came
faintly to us now. The sun was low in the west, and a wonderful light slept upon
the sea.
"Last year we had a masque at court," she said at length, breaking the long
silence. "We had Calypso's island, and I was Calypso. The island was built of
boards covered with green velvet, and there was a mound upon it of pink silk
roses. There was a deep blue painted sea below, and a deep blue painted sky
