"Gone!" The tears that had been trembling in her eyes dropped to the roses on her cheek. He saw her grief and exulted in it.
"Jube knows where those treasures were buried. It was a safe place, deep in the vaults under my father's house. The negroes would never search there. Jube will go with me; we shall find all this gold, and then, Rose, then—"
She looked up, piteously.
"I don't care for gold; I hate jewels; from that day I have hated them. Don't go, Paul; I shall die before you come back."
"But we must live. When your father comes from the Indies, I cannot ask for his daughter without some way of earning or giving her bread. Those treasures belong to me. I am the last heir of our house. It is for your sake I shall search for them."
"No, no; I am afraid. There may be another shipwreck," cried the young girl, wringing her hands.
"Hush, hush, Rose! Jube is looking this way; the old fellow will wonder what we are talking about."
"But—but you wont go, Paul? It is too cruel."
"Not till you consent. You are my queen now, Rose, and shall keep or send me as you like."
She brightened with a sudden thought.