Page:Anderson--Isle of seven moons.djvu/360

348 But what was that thing just behind the last swimmer,—long, grey-white, and elliptically curved, like the white-leaded underparts of an overturned boat? A triangular object like the centreboard of a small craft was now visible. But the shape was not drifting or floating. It was curving swiftly on.

"A shark, so help me," shouted Benson.

The arms of the swimmers were reaching out frantically—and the watchers were armed, but not a single barrel was sighted over the rail. Cruel, perhaps, but they were stern men of the sea, and those struggling heads yonder had murdered their friend. If one of Nature's executioners, that grey-finned thing hurtling through the waves, could get them, why

"More speed to those fins!" Could she have heard that hoarse prayer of Benson's and seen the savage look on his face, Sally would have wondered still more at the strange ways of men.

Then rending the air, came the agonized cry of a soul in the jaws of the executioner. The startled sea-birds above echoed it weirdly back again. Through his glass, the Captain looked once—saw the head sucked from under, very swiftly. It did not bob up as before, only the waters were darkened suddenly, as if a cask of wine had been spilled into the brine. He shot the glasses back in the case and turned away his head.

"The law of the sea has taken its course," he said grimly;

"And the curse of the gold," the bosun.

The sailor of the old Alice, though not the worst of the renegade crew, had paid the price of covetousness.