CHAPTER XXII
JOURNEY'S END IN ?
Dawn came one moment, a silvery grey mystery, and the very next, it seemed to the girl watching it on deck, an ecstacy of rose that flushed the whole palpitating East; then a flood of rippling golden fire that fringed the mountain tops and palms, and smote the waters until one wondered why hill and vale and sea did not burst into song. But it was a song in colour, without notes or words—glorious, triumphant!
Under the spell the girl stood as motionless as the carven figurehead on the prow beneath her. Her dark eyes expanded to the beauty of the morning, her cheeks mirrored its flush.
But only for fleeting moments can we stand upon the mountain tops. The black eyes fell to the strip of sand. No life was visible except the wild sea-birds wading in the foam. No one save the sailors of the watch were on deck. Why didn't Cap'n Harve come up! Why should he sleep on this morning of all mornings! There was a very reason able unreason in her vexation.
Well he should have his alarm clock. She turned and struck, as viciously as such a sweet-natured maiden could,
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