. The Viking blood; a story of seafaring. not see her again until the fall. Helena came down, and they all drank the coffee as in amj^stic farewell rite—a valedictory communion. It is wineand the wafer for the soldier going into battle, but it iscoffee and biscuits for the sailor going to sea! Seamen hate farewells. Make a brave welcome if youmust, but let us slip away to sea unobtrusively—betweensunset and dawn—with the last ringing laugh in our ears,but do not let us go regretfully, with the memory of along hand-clasp and hint of tears in an upturned are the usual seamens desires—
. The Viking blood; a story of seafaring. not see her again until the fall. Helena came down, and they all drank the coffee as in amj^stic farewell rite—a valedictory communion. It is wineand the wafer for the soldier going into battle, but it iscoffee and biscuits for the sailor going to sea! Seamen hate farewells. Make a brave welcome if youmust, but let us slip away to sea unobtrusively—betweensunset and dawn—with the last ringing laugh in our ears,but do not let us go regretfully, with the memory of along hand-clasp and hint of tears in an upturned are the usual seamens desires—merely to depart witha nonchalant So long!, but Donald had no notion ofsuch a curt parting. He wanted to spin the bitter-sweet^ness of it out, as lovers are fain to do. He gave Ruths handa warm squeeze and held it for a moment. She was lookingat him with wide-open blue eyes, with a hint of fear inthem. Good-bye, Ruth, he said quietly, I hope to seeyou when we come back. Good-bye! She murmuredsomething, and abruptly he swung CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE THE West Wind slipped out of the harbor and Donstared up at the Nickerson house to see if Ruth wouldwave. A female figure stood on the verandah ardDonald made a farewell gesture with his cap. It mighthave been Ruth—he was not sure—but the girl waved inreturn, Donald was certain, and the skipper, taking asquint through his binoculars, said it was his sister. Wonder where Helena is? said McKenzie. Oh, guess shes in the house somewhere, replied theskipper somewhat dolefully, looking back at the recedinghouse on the hill. He turned to the wheel. Shes amighty fine girl, Miss Stuart, he remarked, looking aloftat the main-gaff. The other smiled. She sure is, Cap-tain. A fine girl! Clear of the Eastville Cape, they hoisted the light sailsand headed up the coast to the eastward, bound for the.\Iagdalen Islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence for a baitingof fresh herring. With this secured, they would fiish inthe Gulf and on the New
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