. The Viking blood; a story of seafaring. He winced imperceptibly, and into his tired eyes thereflashed a sudden tense look—a shadow of painful memoryreflected in the windows of the soul—then it vanished,and he smoothed her hair lovingly. There is no otherwoman but you. Mother dear! And an hour later, and while the crew and passengersof the ill-fated packet steamer were being warmed andre-clothed in the farm houses near the scene of the Donald McKenzie was stiffly and painfully pacingthe quarter of the Amy Anderson standing out to sea. The wind had dropped to a light breeze when
. The Viking blood; a story of seafaring. He winced imperceptibly, and into his tired eyes thereflashed a sudden tense look—a shadow of painful memoryreflected in the windows of the soul—then it vanished,and he smoothed her hair lovingly. There is no otherwoman but you. Mother dear! And an hour later, and while the crew and passengersof the ill-fated packet steamer were being warmed andre-clothed in the farm houses near the scene of the Donald McKenzie was stiffly and painfully pacingthe quarter of the Amy Anderson standing out to sea. The wind had dropped to a light breeze when theypassed out of the channel. A heavy swell—aftermath ofthe gale—was running, and the wreck of the steamercould be distinctly discerned in the moonlight with thewaves making a complete breach over it. The wholesuperstructure was gone, and nothing but the hull re-mained, and as he stared at it, McKenzie thought of themental wreck he had experienced but a few hours pre-vious. Mrs. Walter Moodey, he murmured, and hesmiled McKENZIE drove the Amy for Porto Ricoin a manner that gave his small crew some trepi-dation whenever there was more than ordinarvwind blowing. He felt that he had to give vent to his feel-ings—to blow off steam as it were—and as he was too good-natured a man to take it out of his crew, he took it out ofthe vessel, and kept sail on her at times when prudence sug-gested otherwise. On these occasions, he twirled the wheel himself andseemed to take a savage pleasure in hounding the schooneralong, and several times he had her with half the deckunder lee water and threatening to jump the masts vwerthe side. Try as he might, he could not erase Ruth Ni-ker-son from his mind, and with harassing persistence, thememory of the night in Halifax and the afternoon at Sal-vage Island kept rising before him—odious and inexpli-cable comparisons which tormented his thoughts and wrunghis heart. He couldnt fathom the complex feminine na-ture which
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidvikingbloods, bookyear1920
