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Photoplay Magazine
what they began to call him now in the neighboring village — considered all learning useless, further than what was necessary for buying and selling the necessities of life, and this he undertook to impart to Ellinor in leisurely fashion. All other wisdom, to him, was concealed out there in those ceaselessly tossing waves. There was the enigma of life, and what use to search for the solution of the riddle in books? They would sit for hours, this strange pair, by a mossgrown log in the mouth of a sheltered cave, silent for long periods, listening, dreaming — of what, only they themselves knew, and that but vaguely. Occasionally Peter would tell some weird old story of the ships. Sometimes Ellinor would ask simple childish questions, t o which Peter w o u 1 d only shake his head, and look out again across the waves.
But Peter was growing old, and Ellinor w a s just coming into the doorw ay of life.'
"There must be something more than this," she would say to herself, as vague awakenings stirred within her bosom. But there was no one to guide her. and she would stare, and stare, as if she would force from the ocean an answer to the eternal question of existence.
She was standing tints one day when she discerned something that made her heart beat faster. A ship had anchored off the coast the night before and its sails were now swelling as they tugged its huge bulk out toward the horizon. Put between her and the ship there was something moving in the water. It would rise with the wave, and disappear in the trough again. It was net a boat, and it was not driftwood. It was alive. She could see an arm reach out
"I've got to go," he said at last. "They'll send ashore at the •, first port and start a hunt for me."
in powerful strokes, and push toward the shore, in the unusually calm water. It was a man, swimming toward the spot where she was standing. She wanted to escape but she could not. Perhaps this, after all, was the answer to her unspoken questions. Perhaps this man would bring her a message of the meaning of life. So she stood by the mouth of the cave, watching, and waiting for what fate was to bring.
The man reached shallow water, stood up, saw the girl, and strode toward her. his clothes dripping. He was no hero of romance, but Ellinor had read no romances. Her only comparison was with Peter. His
face was not so kindly as Peter's; it was alm o s t sinister, but it was the face of a man of great power, a m a n w h o would not easily be denied. He came close to her and looked down into her eyes without smiling ; she returned his gaze with the same gravity. She was not afraid, only filled with wonder, and she w a s the first to speak. •Who are
you?" she asked.
"Mason. Who are you?"
"Ellinor."
"Live around here?"
"Yes. At the lighthouse. Why did you swim ashore?"
He laughed. It was almost a snarl.
"See that ship?" and he pointed at the rapidly receding vessel. "Well, I killed the captain last night. If I hadn't, he'd have killed me. But it wasn't safe to stay. So here I am."
"You killed a man?" and Ellinor drew back a little.
"I tell you it was a fair fight." he said fiercelv. "Things like that happen at sea."