"What news of the Falcon?"
He looked at her and hesitated, "Don't ask me now," he said, averting his face.
She was silent. He heard a little sigh, and glancing at her again, saw a look of heart-sick resignation in her white face which told him that she thought Brian must be dead. He felt a pang of compunction, and a desire to tell her all, then he restrained himself. "She will not have to wait long," he thought, with a rather bitter smile.
When they landed, he quietly took her hand in his, and led her a little apart from the others. Angela and Rupert, Mrs. Norman and Mr. Fane, were, however, close behind. They followed Percival's footsteps as he showed the way to one of the huts which the men had occupied during their stay on the island. When they were near it, he turned and spoke to Rupert and Angela. "I am obliged to be very rude," he said. "Let me go into the hut with Miss Murray first of all. There is something I want her to see—something I must say. I will come back directly."
They saw that he was agitated, although he tried to speak as if nothing were the matter; and they drew back, respecting his emotion. As for Elizabeth, she waited: she could do nothing else. A little while ago she had said to herself that Percival was not changed: she thought differently now. He was changed; and yet she did not know how or why.
He stopped at the door, and turned to her. He still held her hand in a close, warm grasp. "Don't be startled," he said, gently. "I am going to surprise you very much. There is a friend of mine here: remember, I say, a friend of mine. He was saved from the wreck of the Falcon—do you understand whom I mean?"
And then he opened the door. "Brian," he said, in a voice that seemed strange to Elizabeth, because of its measured quietness, "come here."
Elizabeth was trembling from head to foot. "Don't be afraid, child," he said, with more of an approach to his old tones and looks than she had yet heard or seen; "nobody will hurt you. Here he is—and I think I may fairly say that I have kept my word."
Brian Luttrell had been collecting the possessions which he thought that his comrades might wish to take with them as mementoes of their stay upon the island. He sprang up quickly at the first sound of Percival's voice, and then stood, as if turned to stone, looking at Elizabeth. The healthy colour faded from his face, leaving it nearly as pale as hers; he set his lips, and Percival could see that he clenched his hands. Elizabeth did not look up at all.
"Is this all the thanks I get," said Percival, in an ironical tone, "for introducing one cousin to another? I have taken a good deal of trouble for you both; I think that now you have met you might be civil to each other."