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certainty; as if it would be better to up-anchor after all, put to sea
at a venture, and, perhaps, perish at the hands of cannibals on one of
the more obscure Paumotus. His eye roved swiftly over sea and sky in
quest of any promise of wind, but the fountains of the Trade were empty.
Where it had run yesterday and for weeks before, a roaring blue river
charioting clouds, silence now reigned; and the whole height of
the atmosphere stood balanced. On the endless ribbon of island that
stretched out to either hand of him its array of golden and green and
silvery palms, not the most volatile frond was to be seen stirring;
they drooped to their stable images in the lagoon like things carved of
metal, and already their long line began to reverberate heat. There was
no escape possible that day, none probable on the morrow. And still the
stores were running out!
Then came over Davis, from deep down in the roots of his being, or at
least from far back among his memories of childhood and innocence, a
wave of superstition. This run of ill luck was something beyond natural;
the chances of the game were in themselves more various; it seemed as
if the devil must serve the pieces. The devil? He heard again the clear
note of Attwater's bell ringing abroad into the night, and dying away.
How if God...?
Briskly, he averted his mind. Attwater: that was the point. Attwater
had food and a treasure of pearls; escape made possible in the present,
riches in the future. They must come to grips, with Attwater; the man
must die. A smoky heat went over his face, as he recalled the impotent
figure he had made last night and the contemptuous speeches he must bear
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