"Yes; I will come or write."
When her charming visitor had gone, Miriam returned to her seat, a pained expression on her bright face.
"He also there. Poor Diniz! But I will save him yet," determinedly.
Hastily opening a heavy iron box, she drew out a handful of gold.
Placing this in her pocket, she softly left the house, and scarcely knowing what instinct prompted her, she hurried towards a small hotel not far from the sea.
"Can you tell me," she began breathlessly to a sunburnt man standing near, "if there are any ships leaving here to-morrow?"
"I don't know, senora. I will inquire," he answered politely, and after an absence of about ten minutes, he returned to say "that Captain Moriz, of the Eagle, was even then preparing for departure on the morrow."
"Where does he live?" Miriam said, eagerly.
"He is staying at this hotel at present."
"Do you think I could see him? It is very important."