“Yes. I will help you all I can and pray for your success.”
I held out my hand. “Till we meet again.”
She put hers into it with a delighting pressure.
“And if I fail,” I said again, “there is still the sea.”
“There is still the sea,” she whispered; “for you, but not for me.”
I watched her go and presently saw her enter a carriage.
Then Burroughs came up and I tried to think of other things; not very successfully at first. We returned to my rooms, and on the way Miralda’s eloquent smile, the thrilling pressure of her hand, the flush of tell-tale colour, and the proof of her trust, entangled my wits and made it difficult for me for a time to give coherent answers to the questions of my insistently curious companion.
My object in securing Miralda’s promise to delay the delivery of the papers to Vasco was to enable me to make preparations to follow him myself, and I set about them the instant we reached my rooms.
I had decided to use the Portuguese clothes which Simmons had obtained; and a few alterations in them together with a false moustache, the darkening of my eyebrows and the judicious application of a little picturesque dirt to my face and hands and clothes, so changed my appearance that even Miralda would have had difficulty in recognizing me.
I arranged that Burroughs should follow me, to be at hand in case of need; that Simmons should go to the launch and Foster remain for the night with Bryant at the flat.