he had been
that she would not say him nay, he was thrilled with joy at the
completeness and sweetness of her surrender. Here was surely a heart
made for love and steadfastness. Here was no caprice or questionings
or captious standards of convention.

When Geddie kissed Paula at her door that night he was happier than
he had ever been before. "Here in this hollow lotus land, ever to
live and lie reclined" seemed to him, as it has seemed to many
mariners, the best as well as the easiest. His future would be an
ideal one. He had attained a Paradise without a serpent. His Eve
would be indeed a part of him, unbeguiled, and therefore more
beguiling. He had made his decision to-night, and his heart was full
of serene, assured content.

Geddie went back to his house whistling that finest and saddest love
song, "La Golondrina." At the door his tame monkey leaped down from
his shelf, chattering briskly. The consul turned to his desk to get
him some nuts he usually kept there. Reaching in the half-darkness,
his hand struck against the bottle. He started as if he had touched
the cold rotundity of a serpent.

He had forgotten that the bottle was there.

He lighted the lamp and fed the monkey. Then, very deliberately, he
lighted a cigar, and took the bottle in his hand, and walked down the
path to the beach.

There was a moon, and the sea was glorious. The breeze had shifted,
as it did each evening, and was now rushing steadily seaward.

Stepping to the water's edge, Geddie hurled the unopened bottle far
out into the sea. It disappeared for a moment, and then shot upward
twice its length. Geddie stood still, watching it. The moonlight was
so bright that he could see it bobbing up and down with the little
waves. Slowly it receded from the shore, flashing and turning as it
went. The wind was carrying it out to sea. Soon it became a mere
speck, doubtfully discerned at irregular intervals; and then the
mystery of it was swallowed up by the greater mystery of the ocean.
Geddie stood still upon the beach, smoking and looking out upon the
water.

"Simon!--Oh, Simon!--wake up there, Simon!" bawled a sonorous voice
at the edge of the water.

Old Simon Cruz was a half-breed fisherman and smuggler who lived in a
hut on the beach. Out of his earliest nap Simon was thus awakened.

He slipped on his shoes and went outside. Just landing from one of
the _Valhalla's_ boats was the third mate of that vessel, who was an
acquaintance