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Bassett, Sara Ware, 1872-1968

"Flood Tide"

Nor did she
hesitate for an answer. In an instant she caught up the unique avowal,
and across the turbulent waters signalled to her beloved the three
mystic letters that should make her his forever. With the faint,
blinking flashes, the weight of years fell away from Jack Nickerson.
No longer was he a trembling, tongue-tied captive, scorning himself for
his want of will. He was a free man, the affianced husband of the most
wonderful creature in the world. In his exultation he raised his
lantern aloft and swung it round and round with the abandon of a boy
who tosses his cap in the air. Then he bounded down the iron staircase
like a child let out of school, dashing round their spiral windings
with reckless velocity.
The deed was done! Sarah Libbie was his!

It might have been half an hour later, as he sat smoking in blissful
meditation in the living room of the station, that the door was
wrenched open and Willie Spence burst into the room. Every hair on the
old inventor's head was upright with anxiety, and he puffed
breathlessly:
"What's ashore? I saw your signal an' knew straight off somethin'
terrible was up, for you've never called for help from the town before.


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