Claire The Blind Love of a Blind Hero, By a Blind Author

Excerpt

DISASTER.

In the confusion Lawrence stood still. Over the howling wind and smashing sea, he heard thin voices shouting orders. Another mass of water swept over the deck. Near him a woman screamed piteously. Instinctively, the masculine desire to protect womanhood made him ache to help her, but he bit his lip and clung to the rail. If he could only see! Never before in his five years of blindness had he felt the full horror of it. He had taught himself to forget his loss of sight. It is useless to waste time in sentimental moping, he would say, but now—

"God, when will it end?" he muttered savagely.

The City of Panama lurched back and forth like a rocking-horse. Somewhere forward they must be lowering the boats. He stumbled along the deck, holding to the rail for support. The spray dashed in his face, and he could feel the water from his hair trickling into his ears. He shook his head and laughed grimly, but he could not hear his own laughter. The terrific noise of the wind drowned everything else. It became increasingly difficult to keep his hold on the rail. He was wet to the waist. Each time the wave struck him higher, and he noticed that the lurching grew heavier. He was strong, six feet of hard muscle, but the water was stronger. His mouth was filled with it, and his ears seemed bursting. His rugged features twisted into hard lines. As he struggled forward, he raged at the blindness that kept him from seeing.

"Not a chance, not a chance," he repeated over and over, as he strained to hold the deck. There was a lull in the wind, and he marveled at the absence of human sound. Suddenly he divined the cause. His mind became a chaos of rage and fear.

"They have left me," he cried; "left me without a thought." He shut his teeth hard, then ducked as another heavy beating weight of water crashed over him. It seemed it would never lift and leave him free to breathe. His arms and feet no longer seemed a part of him. He wondered if the vessel were under the surface, and nerved himself to let go. But he could not. The rail was his only hope of life. Slowly the water began to draw his fingers away from it. The next surge sent his body out—somewhere. He struck forward with both hands and kicked his feet mechanically. Was it the roar of the wind or the weight of the water itself that beat into his ears? The sudden pain in his lungs, told him that he had reached the surface. How good the air felt! Shaking the water out of his ears, he listened. Nothing but the wind was audible.

It seemed to him that he had been swimming for hours in the icy waves. Events on the ship, the shock of the boiler explosion, the rush for the deck, all seemed to have happened long ago.

"If I could only see," he thought, "I might find the ship again." It occurred to him that he might be swimming in a circle, and he resolved to keep in one direction, but how? He remembered that he had always tended to swim to the left, so he increased his right-arm stroke. Suddenly a heavy timber struck him....