"Oh, I've read their books," he replied. "We sailormen pick up a good deal of information knocking about the world as we do."
She would have liked to question him further, curious to learn something of his history, but there was an air of reserve about him that gave her little encouragement. On reflection she thought it unwise to appear interested. He might misconstrue her motive. She had not forgotten the bad reputation he had borne on the steamer, and while there had been nothing in his behavior so far to give her cause for alarm, she must not forget that she was entirely alone on this island with a man of the lower classes, a man unaccustomed, probably, to self-control. She must discourage all familiarity, and never for a moment permit him to forget the broad social gulf which separated them. With these anxieties running through her mind she relapsed into silence. He seemed to notice the sudden change in her manner, for he looked up from the fire and said:
"I'll soon have it ready. Suppose you get two big, flat shells for plates. We'll have to use our fingers for forks."
As she went to carry out his suggestion, she said apologetically:
"You think of everything. I wish I could be of more assistance."
"Nonsense!" he answered. "Why was I saved from the wreck if not to look after you?"
She did not like this speech, savoring as it did of clumsy gallantry, so she made no rejoinder. By the time she had found the kind of shells suitable for plates, the crabs were cooked to a turn, and they immediately sat down in semi-reclining position to enjoy them.
It was a veritable feast of Lucullus served picnic-fashion in mid-ocean. To Grace it seemed that in all her life she had never tasted anything so delicious. The crabs were tender and sweet-flavored, and the plantains provided her with a new taste which improved on acquaintance. In spite of their thus sharing a common meal there was a certain restraint. Each seemed to be uncertain of and mistrust the other. They ate quickly and in silence, each preoccupied, Grace becoming more and more nervous as the shadows about her deepened, Armitage, silent, in admiring contemplation of his companion's shapely hands, her full bust and white neck, her beautiful eyes which, when they looked full into his, caused every nerve in his body to thrill.
By the time they had eaten the last scrap, the evening was well advanced. The sun had dipped below the watery horizon long ago, and it was getting dark very rapidly. Grace's growing nervousness became more and more apparent. He noticed it and suddenly broke the silence.
"Where will you sleep to-night?" he asked. "You're worn out after all you've gone through."