"No."
She went to the door, and gave Rose an order. Then she closed it, and walked first to one window; then to another.
"Do come and sit down. You wander about like a ghost."
"I will step softly." She began to walk up and down the room with her light, rather long-paced step. "You are not afraid," she said at last.
"No, I am not afraid; if he were wrecked in mid-ocean, he would make the whales cook his dinner for him, and see to it, too, that it was a good one."
"Oh, don't speak in that tone; don't jest about him when we cannot tell—Here we are safe at home, safe and comfortable, when perhaps he—" she stopped.
"You are haunted by the most useless terrors. 'Safe,' are we? How 'safe' were we last night, for his sake too, in that deadly swamp?—how safe were you? And 'comfortable'—I sitting here wet and exhausted, and you walking up and down, white as a sheet, eating your heart out with anxiety! 'And home,' did you say? I like that! Pretty place it was to bring you to—hideous barrack miles from every living thing. Of course you've made it better, you would make a cave better; he knew you would do it when he brought you here!"
He changed his bitter tone into a laugh, "Instead of abusing him, I ought rather to admire him—admire him for his success—he has always done so entirely as he pleased! If one wishes to be virtuous or heroic, I don't know that it is the best way; but if one wishes simply to be comfortable, it most certainly is. You can't philosophize?" he went on, turning his head to look at her as she continued her walk.
"No, no. Would you mind telling me what you have done?"
"I have three parties out; one has gone up the shore, and one down; the third is across the river."