The immediate result of the strange proceedings of the night was that Miss May asked me, before we had finished breakfast, whether I cared much about remaining in St. Pierre. She approached the subject with some timidity, saying she did not like to have me make any change in my programme on her account, but added that she would be very glad if I could, without too much sacrifice, go back to the Pretoria and make the break in my journey at some other point.
"Why, my dear girl," I answered, immediately, "if you don't wish to stay here I shall never dream of asking you to do so. Pack up whatever things you have taken from your trunks and we will return to the steamer."
She was gratified and showed it so in every line of her expressive face that I was more than repaid for my decision.
"You are quite willing?" she said, interrogatively.
"Entirely. Where would you suggest that we stop, Barbados? That is the next port where there is a fairly good hotel."
After a little discussion we settled upon Barbados and began the labor of packing. I sent a boy off to the steamer with a request to the purser to give me a berth in some other stateroom than the one I previously had, and to reserve Miss May's room for her. I did not mean to get in with Wesson again if I could help it. That afternoon we spent at the market, which is the most interesting I have ever seen, until the time came to go on board.
"As we may have to tell a falsehood to some inquisitive person," I said, when we were in the rowboat, "let us tell the same one. Fear of yellow fever quarantine is what led us to change our mind about remaining in Martinique; you understand?"
"Yes," said Marjorie, dreamily. "We were to lie to outsiders, if necessary, and always tell the truth to each other."
"Are you doing that as faithfully as you promised?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" she asked, with a violent start.