“Well, I’ll go outside. I’m to stroll about where I can see the cook; that’s my cue; and you can stay near the door, where you can see me; that’s yours. And the judge, he has the back window, one of the guns is there. All right? Bon-sor, then.” He went out.
Eve sat down by the door. The judge kept up a conversation with Cicely, and anxiously played quiet games with little Jack, until both fell asleep; Cicely fell asleep very easily now, like a child. Mrs. Mile lifted her in her strong arms and laid her on the bed, while Porley took Jack; poor Porley was terribly frightened, but rather more afraid of Mrs. Mile, on the whole, than of the savages.
By-and-by a red light flashed through the trees outside; the Indians had kindled a fire.
Twenty minutes later Hollis paused at the door. “Paul’s coming, I guess; I hear paddles.”
“Of course you’ll go down and meet him?” said Eve.
“No, I can’t leave the beat.”
“I can take your place for that short time.”
“Don’t you show your head outside—don’t you!” said Hollis, quickly.
Eve looked at him. “I shall go down to the beach myself, if you don’t.” Her eyes were inflexible.
All Hollis’s determination left him. “The judge can take this beat, then; you can guard his window,” he said, in a lifeless tone. He went down to the beach.