"Are you hurt?" he demanded, again stooping over her.
She turned her gaze wonderingly on Armitage. In the uncertain light it was difficult to get a good view of his face. He seemed a stranger to her. From him, her eyes wandered inquiringly round the cave.
"Where am I?" she asked, in a low voice.
"On an island," he replied shortly. "The steamer's lost. Only you and I were saved."
She turned white, and her breath came and went quickly. Then she caught sight of her torn gown, and quickly she covered herself modestly, a faint flush overspreading her pale face. She continued to stare at Armitage, as if he reminded her of some one she had seen before. Puzzled, she passed her hand over her eyes as if trying to remember.
"Who are you?" she said finally. "Where have I seen you before?"
He shifted uneasily on his feet and looked away, avoiding her scrutiny. Why should she know that he had been one of the poor devils in the stoke-hole? Perhaps she already recognized him as the deserter who was so unceremoniously dragged on board ship in New York Harbor. Gruffly he answered:
"I was swimming. I heard you cry out. I brought you in—that's all."
"You were one of the crew?"
He nodded.