"I love you—I love you!" he repeated wildly, crushing her slender form in his powerful arms.
She made no attempt to resist, but remained passive in his caress, as if a prisoner who knew there was no hope of escape. Yet there was no indication of anger on her face. Why shouldn't she love this man? If their lives were to be spent together, she must be his helpmate, his companion. Besides, she knew she was lying to herself. She did love him—with all her soul. This was the man she had been waiting for, the man who would have the courage to overcome her resistance, to take her fiercely in his arms and cry "I love you—I want you!"
She closed her eyes, her head fell back. He leaned forward until his lips almost touched hers. Why did he hesitate? Why didn't he take the prize which was already his? He felt her warm body vibrating with the passion his ardor had awakened.
"I love you—I love you!" he cried. "Grace, tell me—will you be mine?"
Her eyes were closed. Her head, with its wealth of luxuriant hair all loose, fell back on his shoulder. Her face was upturned, her lips half parted. Trembling with emotion, he leaned forward. His mouth slowly approached hers for the kiss which was to seal their union, when suddenly he heard a shout.
"Ahoy there! Ahoy there!"
The sound of a human voice in that deserted spot was so utterly unexpected, so entirely unlooked for, that for a moment Armitage and Grace started back in alarm. Armitage thus rudely aroused out of his day-dreams, hurried forward to investigate.
"Ahoy there! Ahoy there!" came the shout again.
There was no mistake this time. Some one was calling, in English.
Presently they saw half a dozen sailors clambering over the rocks and running toward them. They were Americans.