the frozen deep-第12章

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various　ways；　had　struck　in　some　instances　at　their　reason　first。
Everybody　loved　Crayford。　Was　he；　too；　going　on　the　dark　way　that
others　had　taken　before　him？　They　forced　him　to　seat　himself　on
one　of　the　lockers。　〃Steady；　old　fellow！〃　they　said
kindly〃steady！〃　Crayford　yielded；　writhing　inwardly　under　the
sense　of　his　own　helplessness。　What　in　God's　name　could　he　do？
Could　he　denounce　Wardour　to　Captain　Helding　on　bare
suspicionwithout　so　much　as　the　shadow　of　a　proof　to　justify
what　he　said？　The　captain　would　decline　to　insult　one　of　his
officers　by　even　mentioning　the　monstrous　accusation　to　him。　The
captain　would　conclude；　as　others　had　already　concluded；　that
Crayford's　mind　was　giving　way　under　stress　of　cold　and
privation。　No　hopeliterally；　no　hope　now；　but　in　the　numbers　of
the　expedition。　Officers　and　men；　they　all　liked　Frank。　As　long
as　they　could　stir　hand　or　foot；　they　would　help　him　on　the
waythey　would　see　that　no　harm　came　to　him。

The　word　of　command　was　given；　the　door　was　thrown　open；　the　hut
emptied　rapidly。　Over　the　merciless　white　snowunder　the
merciless　black　skythe　exploring　party　began　to　move。　The　sick
and　helpless　men；　whose　last　hope　of　rescue　centered　in　their
departing　messmates；　cheered　faintly。　Some　few　whose　days　were
numbered　sobbed　and　cried　like　women。　Frank's　voice　faltered　as
he　turned　back　at　the　door　to　say　his　last　words　to　the　friend
who　had　been　a　father　to　him。

〃God　bless　you；　Crayford！〃

Crayford　broke　away　from　the　officers　near　him；　and；　hurrying
forward；　seized　Frank　by　both　hands。　Crayford　held　him　as　if　he
would　never　let　him　go。

〃God　preserve　you；　Frank！　I　would　give　all　I　have　in　the　world　to
be　with　you。　Good…by！　Good…by！〃

Frank　waved　his　　handdas　hed　away　the　tears　that　were　gathering
in　his　eyesand　hurried　out。　Crayford　called　after　him；　the
last；　the　only　warning　that　he　could　give：

〃While　you　can　stand；　keep　with　the　main　body；　Frank！〃

Wardour；　waiting　till　the　lastWardour；　following　Frank　through
the　snow…driftstopped；　stepped　back；　and　answered　Crayford　at
the　door：

〃While　he　can　stand；　he　keeps　with　Me。〃



Third　Scene

The　Iceberg。

Chapter　12。


Alone！　alone　on　the　Frozen　Deep！

The　Arctic　sun　is　rising　dimly　in　the　dreary　sky。　The　beams　of
the　cold　northern　moon；　mingling　strangely　with　the　dawning
light；　clothe　the　snowy　plains　in　hues　of　livid　gray。　An
ice…field　on　the　far　horizon　is　moving　slowly　southward　in　the
spectral　light。　Nearer；　a　stream　of　open　water　rolls　its　slow
black　waves　past　the　edges　of　the　ice。　Nearer　still；　following
the　drift；　an　iceberg　rears　its　crags　and　pinnacles　to　the　sky；
here；　glittering　in　the　moonbeams；　there；　looming　dim　and
ghost…like　in　the　ashy　light。

Midway　on　the　long　sweep　of　the　lower　slope　of　the　iceberg；　what
objects　rise；　and　break　the　desolate　monotony　of　the　scene？　In
this　awful　solitude；　can　signs　appear　which　tell　of　human　Life？
Yes！　The　black　outline　of　a　boat　just　shows　itself；　hauled　up　on
the　berg。　In　an　ice…cavern　behind　the　boat　the　last　red　embers　of
a　dying　fire　flicker　from　time　to　time　over　the　figures　of　two
men。　One　is　seated；　resting　his　back　against　the　side　of　the
cavern。　The　other　lies　prostrate；　with　his　head　on　his　comrade's
knee。　The　first　of　these　men　is　awake；　and　thinking。　The　second
reclines；　with　his　still　white　face　turned　up　to　the
skysleeping　or　dead。　Days　and　days　since；　these　two　have　fallen
behind　on　the　march　of　the　expedition　of　relief。　Days　and　days
since；　these　two　have　been　given　up　by　their　weary　and　failing
companions　as　doomed　and　lost。　He　who　sits　thinking　is　Richard
Wardour。　He　who　lies　sleeping　or　dead　is　Frank　Aldersley。

The　iceberg　drifts　slowly；　over　the　black　water；　through　the　ashy
light。　Minute　by　minute　the　lying　fire　sinks。　Minute　by　minute
the　deathly　cold　creeps　nearer　and　nearer　to　the　lost　men。

Richard　Wardour　rouses　himself　from　his　thoughtslooks　at　the
still　white　face　beneath　himand　places　his　hand　on　Frank's
heart。　It　still　beats　feebly。　Give　him　his　share　of　the　food　and
fuel　still　stored　in　the　boat；　and　Frank　may　live　through　it。
Leave　him　neglected　where　he　lies；　and　his　death　is　a　question　of
hoursperhaps　minutes；　who　knows？

Richard　Wardour　lifts　the　sleeper's　head　and　rests　it　against　the
cavern　side。　He　goes　to　the　boat；　and　returns　with　a　billet　of
wood。　He　stoops　to　place　the　wood　on　the　fireand　stops。　Frank
is　dreaming；　and　murmuring　in　his　dream。　A　woman's　name　passes
his　lips。　Frank　is　in　England　againat　the　ballwhispering　to
Clara　the　confession　of　his　love。

Over　Richard　Wardour's　face　there　passes　the　shadow　of　a　deadly
thought。　He　rises　from　the　fire；　he　takes　the　wood　back　to　the
boat。　His　iron　strength　is　shaken；　but　it　still　holds　out。　They
are　drifting　nearer　and　nearer　to　the　open　sea。　He　can　launch　the
boat　without　help；　he　can　take　the　food　and　the　fuel　with　him。
The　sleeper　on　the　iceberg　is　the　man　who　has　robbed　him　of
Clarawho　has　wrecked　the　hope　and　the　happiness　of　his　life。
Leave　the　man　in　his　sleep；　and　let　him　die！

So　the　tempter　whispers。　Richard　Wardour　tries　his　strength　on
the　boat。　It　moves：　he　has　got　it　under　control。　He　stops；　and
looks　round。　Beyond　him　is　the　open　sea。　Beneath　him　is　the　man
who　has　robbed　him　of　Clara。　The　shadow　of　the　deadly　thought
grows　and　darkens　over　his　face。　He　waits　with　his　hands　on　the
boatwaits　and　thinks。

The　iceberg　drifts　slowlyover　the　black　water；　through　the　ashy
light。　Minute　by　minute；　the　dying　fire　sinks。　Minute　by　minute；
the　deathly　cold　creeps　nearer　to　the　sleeping　man。　And　still
Richard　Wardour　waitswaits　and　thinks。



Fourth　Scene。

The　Garden。

Chapter　13。


The　spring　has　come。　The　air　of　the　April　night　just　lifts　the
leaves　of　the　sleeping　flowers。　The　moon　is　queen　in　the
cloudless　and　starless　sky。　The　stillness　of　the　midnight　hour　is
abroad；　over　land　and　over　sea。

In　a　villa　on　the　westward　shore　of　the　Isle　of　Wight；　the　glass
doors　which　lead　from　the　drawing…room　to　the　garden　are　yet
open。　The　shaded　lamp　yet　burns　on　the　table。　A　lady　sits　by　the
lamp；　reading。　From　time　to　time　she　looks　out　into　the　garden；
and　sees　the　white…robed　figure　of　a　young　girl　pacing　slowly　to
and　fro　in　the　soft　brightness　of　the　moonlight　on　the　lawn。
Sorrow　and　suspense　have　set　their　mark　on　the　lady。　Not　rivals
only；　but　friends　who　formerly　admired　her；　agree　now　that　she
looks　worn　and　aged。　The　more　merciful　judgment　of　others
remarks；　with　equal　truth；　that　her　eyes；　her　hair；　her　simple
grace　and　grandeur　of　movement　have　lost　but　little　of　their
olden　charms。　The　truth　lies；　as　usual；　between　the　two　extremes。
In　spite　of　sorrow　and　suffering；　Mrs。　Crayford　is　the　beautiful
Mrs。　Crayford　still。

The　delicious　silence　of　the　hour　is　softly　disturbed　by　the
voice　of　the　younger　lady　in　the　garden。

〃Go　to　the　piano；　Lucy。　It　is　a　night　for　music。　Play　something
that　is　worthy　of　the　night。〃

Mrs。　Crayford　looks　round　at　the　clock　on　the　mantelpiece。

〃My　dear　Clara；　it　is　past　twelve！　Remember　what　the　doctor　told
you。　You　ought　to　have　been　in　bed　an　hour　ago。〃

〃Half　an　hour；　Lucygive　me　half　an　hour　more！　Look　at　the
moonlight　on　the　sea。　Is　it　possible　to　go　to　bed　on　such　a　night
as　this？　Play　something；　Lucysomething　spiritual　and　divine。〃

Earnestly　pleading　with　her　friend；　Clara　advances　toward　the
window。　She　too　has　suffered　under　the　wasting　influences　of
suspense。　Her　face　has　lost　its　youthful　freshness；　no　delicate
flush　of　color　rises　on　it　when　she　speaks。　The　soft　gray　eyes
which　won　Frank's　heart　in　the　by…gone　time　are　sadly　altered
now。　In　repose；　they　have　a　dimmed　and　wearied　look。　In　action；
they　are　wild　and　restless；　like　eyes　suddenly　wakened　from
startling　dreams。　Robed　in　whiteher　soft　brown　hair　hanging
loosely　over　her　shouldersthere　is　something　weird　and
ghost…like　in　the　girl；　as　she　moves　nearer　and　nearer　to　the
window　in　the　full　light　of　the　moonpleading　for　music　that
shall　be　worthy　of　the　mystery　and　the　beauty　of　the　night。

〃Will　you　come　in　here　if　I　play　to　you？〃　Mrs。　Crayford　asks。　〃It
is　a　risk；　my　love；　to　be　out　so　long　in　the　night　air。