Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (228 page)

"Many
years,"
answered
Judd,
with
a
peculiar
inflection. "Tell
me
more
about
him." Judd
laughed.

"You
don't
half
want
to
know
much,
do
you?
You'll
clap
eyes
tomorrow
on
Captain
Thunder,
late
of
the
bark
Black
Joke,
well
known (he's
always
boasting)
from
Barbados
to
Trinidad
and
back
again. But
you
may
whistle
for
the
Captain
to-night!"

Patterson
was
sleepy.

"Sounds
like
a
buccaneer,"
he
muttered
into
the
goatskin,
and
was soon
unconscious,
oblivious
even
of
Heywood's
noisy
entry
into
the hut.

By
early
morning
the
island's
beauty
seemed
more
exotic
even
than the
radiant
plumage
of
the
parakeets
darting
to
and
fro
in
the
dim green
light
of
airy
tree-tops.
Patterson
was
refreshed
after
a
good night's
sleep,
and
consequently
less
depressed.
He
bathed
with
Judd, leaving
Heywood
snoring
in
his
hammock.
The
beach
was
a
shining snowdrift,
the
sea
a
vast
tapestry
of
hyacinth
veined
and
streaked
with foam,
glowing,
glittering
in
the
brilliant
sunlight.

They
swam
for
twenty
minutes
and
then
lay
basking
on
the
sands.

"Hungry?"
Judd
inquired.

So
delicious
was
the
morning
that
Patterson
had
quite
forgotten the
eccentricity
manifested
by
his
comrades
the
previous
evening. Rolling
over
on
his
stomach,
he
was
about
to
reply
in
an
enthusiastic affirmative,
when
he
surprised
once
more
in
his
companion's
gaze that
bleak,
fey
look
that
had
already
disconcerted
him.
He
could
not understand
it,
yet
it
was
as
though
a
somber
shadow
fled
across
the beach,
obscuring
this
gay
and
vivid
world
of
amber
sunshine,
creaming
surf,
tossing
sea
and
glowing,
brilliant
blossom.
Beauty
was
blotted
out
when
Judd,
the
commonplace,
looked
like
that;
he
felt
suddenly
lonely,
humble
and
scared.

"Judd,"
he
said
suddenly,
and
Judd
wrenched
away
his
eyes
from the
horizon.

"Judd,
listen
and
please
tell
me
the
truth.
Just
what
are
our
chances of
getting
away
from
here?" Judd
eyed
him
thoughtfully.