"Up on Mount Hope tending the fire," he replied, his eyes taking in every detail of her splendid beauty. Her hair was disarranged and her bodice open at the neck because of the heat. He thought she looked the prettier, and he was only human.
"Nothing in sight, I suppose," she asked.
"No, nothing," he answered.
She rose and, going to the cabin, hastened to prepare their supper.
While she bustled about he sat quietly and watched her. He hoped she would not read on his face the happiness that was in his heart.
Yes, she had guessed aright. He was happier on this desert island than ever before. It was true that he had no wish to be rescued. For him rescue meant going back to purgatory, while this was Elysium. Never in all his life had he known such happiness as this. Only one thing was lacking to make his happiness complete. It was to call this woman—wife. He did not know how it had come to him, but he loved her with a fierceness that frightened him. He did not like to even admit it to himself or even to think of it. But he knew that he must have this woman or his life must end. To live without her was impossible. It was inconceivable. He had tasted of Heaven these last few weeks, and if he lost that he must lose everything. Of course it was an impossible dream. She was rich. When she left here she would forget him. If one day she met him in New York she would even disdain to look at him.
He clenched his fists and ground his teeth. Why should he lose this happiness that had come to him? He wanted this woman. No one should rob him of her. Even if it cost him his life and hers, he was determined to have her for his own. Why should he be denied her? Their rescue from this island was improbable, if not impossible. Ships never passed near there. It was too far from the beaten track, too full of hidden dangers. Navigators knew that and gave the island a wide berth. He had lied to her to reassure her, but he knew rescue was out of the question. They would spend the rest of their days there. The days would lengthen into months, the months into years. Their youth would go. Old age would come. Then it would be too late, and they would both be sorry. Why should they not mate now? He remembered the mutineers of H. M. S. Bounty—a true story of the sea which had always fascinated him. The men revolted and killed their officers and landed on an island inhabited by savages. They killed the men and married the women, and to this day their descendants were sturdy fishermen.
Long after Grace had retired to rest, Armitage sat under the trees alone amid the silent beauty of the tropical night. The stars in their countless millions shone bright and resplendent in the clear atmosphere. The firmament was a glorious blaze of light. The planets flashed like suns, and changed color as he gazed at them. The small stars twinkled more humbly in a milky way that stretched across the heavens, while now and again a brilliant meteor, outlaw of the heavenly host, shot across space and as quickly disappeared. It was a spectacle for the gods, but Armitage heeded it not. Lost in meditation of things more earthly, he was wondering if he could win this woman for himself, how he could delay the dreaded moment which would take her out of his life.
The next day when he suggested that they explore their lonely domain together, Grace readily consented to accompany him. Laughing merrily and chattering like a magpie, she walked briskly along at his side. The day was ideal. The weather was dry and clear, with an invigorating breeze from the sea, and, as they strode along in the dazzling sunshine, Grace felt buoyant with health and exuberant spirits.