"Oh, you have made yourself useful," she had the grace to admit. "If—it hadn't been for the beginning, I—I should have been grateful. You know things which none of the rest of us know. You've shown us sights which without you we should never have seen or heard of. But as it is, how can I, why should I, be grateful? It's only for the sake of the others, and their pleasure, that I——"
"So you said before," I broke in. "But now I refuse to accept toleration from you—we won't say consideration, for that's too warm a word—for the sake of others. The boat is yours. I am your skipper. If, after serving you as well as I could for a week, you wish me to go, I will go."
She stood and stared at me from under lashes meant only for sweet looks.
"You will go?"
"Certainly. This moment. I only wait your word." I heard myself saying it; and in a way I was sincere, though I was the same man who, only a few minutes since, had vowed to do anything rather than let the trip end. Of course I would have to go now, if she told me to go. But I knew that I should not go. As skipper, I was her servant, if she chose to give me the name; but as a man I felt myself her master.
"I—I—" she faltered, and I saw her throat flutter. "You're putting me in a horrid position. We—I thought we'd settled this matter, things being as they are."
"Not at all," said I. "Nothing was settled."
"You're Mr. Starr's friend, and I can't send you away."
"You can, easily," I replied. "And since that appears to be your only reason for not doing so, I'll not wait for your orders to go. Good-by, Miss Van Buren, I'll do my best to get you another skipper, a professional this time."
I moved a step away, and my blood was beating fast. Everything depended on the next instant.