Joe Cone 1300 words
Saybrook,
Conn.
THE
MERMAN.
Pretty Judith Mertin,
paint box in one hand and easel and sketching stool in the other, left the
hotel at three o’clock in the afternoon. She told her friends she was going to
paint “Hagar Ledge,” and didn’t want to be disturbed. Basil Trench, journalist
and golfer, looked longingly after Judith, but with him her wish was law, and
he remained behind.
“Hagar Ledge,” and its
surroundings, jutted boldly out into the Atlantic. There was a high surf rolling
in, and Judith was happy. It was an ideal afternoon to paint. Soon she was lost
to view from the hotel, and the gaiety on the wide veranda went on.
Judith had not long
been seated when an unusual noise caused her to look up. But a few feet away
from her sat a man. His dark, curling locks were wet with sea. His dark eyes
shone brilliantly, and a fine set of white teeth lurked behind a welcoming
smile. With a graceful movement he tossed a handful of pearls into her lap.
Amazed, she stared at him. His head and
shoulders, white and bare, protruded above the rocks on which he sat. The
remainder of his body was invisible. She was about to rise and flee when he
raised his hand in protest.
“O maiden of the land,”
he said, his tones rich and pleading, “go not from me. We are alone; the world,
which you pretend to love and do not, is off yonder. Listen for a moment; we
may become friends.”
She felt herself
melting ’neath his spell. His shing eyes penetrated the utmost depth of her
soul. All the romance of her nature was awakening. His strength and beauty
captivated her. The longing of her artist’s soul was becoming appeased. The
brush and palette dropped from her hands. She waited. He moved a bit nearer and
touched her hand. It was cold.
“Maiden of the land,”
he murmured, “I love you. You are young, free and love the beautiful. Your soul
longs for its mate. The world you are living in gives nothing. In my realm is
everything. Such gems you never touched. Such pictures you never beheld. Such
purity you never witnessed. Such love you never knew. Come with me for a
season. I am not one of you; I am a merman. My castle is under the sea. Wealth
is there, and you will be a Princess amongst Pearls.”
With a graceful leap he
was beside her. His arm encircled her waist. His eyes locked into hers and she
became dizzy.
”My friends,” she
whispered, weakly.
“You friends will lose
you but for a season,’ he replied. “We will return. I am a merman by
compulsion. A fate hangs over me. It can be raised. I am the last of my kind.
It is said that if I can bring a flower from the land, willingly, to become
Queen of my Realm, then I may go with her to her own domain, and be as other
men forever after. But there must be sacrifice. The Queen of my Heart must
brave the dangers of the deep. She must give herself to my keeping; must be
willing to leave all and with me plunge to the depths of the ocean.”
“If I were sure,” she
murmured.
“Nothing is surer,” he
pleaded. “They will miss you for a day, two days, a week. But what os that to
the joy afterward? You will be rich; you will be loved; you will be worshipped.
You can paint to satisfy your soul, for you will have seen wonders that no
artist of the land has ever seen. Queen of my Heart, Princess of the Pearl,
will you go?”
She was fairly in his
power now. She drew closer to him. The sea had calmed, and looked inviting. It
beat the rocks no more. His kiss felt cold, but it refreshed her throbbing
temples.
“May I not leave a
message? she pleaded; “May I not tell them at home?”
“The sacrifice,” he
urged.
His clasp grew closer,
and she felt herself slipping, slipping down into the green, gray sea.
The waters closed over
them. Strange lights passed before her vision. The tinkle of bells fell upon
her ear. She heard far-away voices chanting a requiem. Then the sky darkened,
and the voice of thunder spoke. Lightning flashed. The yell of a thousand
demons filled her ears. At last the waters opened and she was sitting upon a shelving
rock. The merman was close beside her, stroking her face and offering words of
cheer. Her head ached, and she lay within his arms and fell asleep.
When Judith Merton
awoke a wonderful sight met her gaze. The walls of the oceanic cavern were
studded with Shining pearls. Everything was dazzling white. Lounging places,
bedded with dainty sea-moss, were cut here and there. Rare plate, taken from
sunken vessels, ornamented the smooth, white tables. Sea shells, of wondrous hue, filled every niche. Pearls,
pearls everywhere.
“Well done, Princess
amongst Pearls,” he whispered. “You are Queen of my Realm. All that is mine is
yours. As soon as you are fit for the hourney we shall return. When we reach
your land I shall be a merman no longer. The amercement will be met. O Maid of
the Land, you are brave! You have made the sacrifice. Love and joy shall be
yours till the star of our lives has set. Partake of the pearls, the gems of
the sea. Keep fresh in your mind the beauties of my realm that you may transfer
them to your canvases, by and by.”
The disappearance of
Judith Merton was the wonder and lament of the season. The sorrowing friends
lingered by the sea, unwilling to believe that it would give up the living or
the dead. Basil Trench searched the cliffs and the eddies incessantly. The
easel, the paints and the sketching stool were found and treasured. The most
expert detective service of the country was put upon the case.
Trench finally gave up
in despair and went home. Relatives were to spend their final day at the spot
where Judith was last seen standing before her easel. When about half way to “Hagar
Ledge” they espied a man and woman coming in their direction. As they drew
nearer lines about the woman became familiar. In another moment Judith Merton,
alive and well, was in the loving embrace of her friends.
“This gentleman,” she
said sweetly, as soon as she could find herself released, “is Captain Merman,
who rescued me from the sea. I have promised him my hand.”
(undated)
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