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Cord and Creese by James De Mille
page 96 of 706 (13%)

The seas were bright and sparkling, the skies calm and deeply blue, the
winds breathed softly, the white swelling sails puffed out like clouds
against the blue sky beyond. That ship seemed to the lonely watcher like
Heaven itself. Oh! to pass beyond the limits of this narrow sandy waste!
to cross the waters and enter there! Oh! to reach that ship which moved
on so majestically, to enter there and be at rest!

It was not given him to enter there. Brandon soon saw this. The ship
moved farther away. Already the sun was sinking, and the sudden night of
the tropics was coming swiftly on. There was no longer any hope.

He flung the staff down till it broke asunder on the hard rock, and
stood for a few moments looking out at sea in mute despair.

Yet could he have known what was shortly to be the fate of that ship--
shortly, only in a few days--he would not have despaired, he would have
rejoiced, since if death were to be his lot it were better to die where
he was than to be rescued and gain the sweet hope of life afresh, and
then have that hope extinguished in blood.

But Brandon did not remain long in idleness. There was yet one resource
--one which he had already thought of through that long day, but
hesitated to try, since he would have to forsake his signal-station; and
to remain there with his staff seemed to him then the only purpose of
his life. Now since the signal-staff had failed, he had broken it, as
some magician might break the wand which had failed to work its
appropriate spell, and other things were before him. He took his coat
and descended from the rock to make a last effort for life. He walked
back through the gathering gloom toward the wreck. He did not run, nor
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