“I’m taking you on trust,” observed the mate, as the launch puffed toward the Windbird. “But the old man won’t. He trusts nobody. If you’re not qualified you’d better say so now. It isn’t quite so long a swim ashore from here.”
Rutile grinned. “Oh! I’m qualified,” he insisted. “What system have you?”
“Marconi!”
“That’s all right. I understand it perfectly. You’ll remember that I’m taking a good deal on trust, too. Where are we bound?”
“Barbadoes first. Afterwards—who knows? We’re going down to meet the owner and then we’ll go where he says.”
“Humph!” Rutile considered. “I guess I’ll only sign for Barbadoes,” he declared. “By the time we get there I’ll know whether I care to stay or not.”
CHAPTER XXVI
Lillian Byrd kept in her cabin most of the day after she sent her dispatch to the Gazette, leaving it only for meals and slipping back to it the moment these were finished. Although she had done only what she had felt to be her duty, she yet shrank from facing Ouro Preto and confessing her action.
She knew that he would not consider her last words final, but would urge her to change them; and it was largely the fear that she might not be as steadfast as she wanted to be that led her to send the dispatch giving McNew the information that she had gained and urging him to lay it before the President of the country. She felt that the count had a powerful influence over her, and that she could be sure of herself only when it was out of her power to accede to his wishes. Later she felt really afraid to face him.
Face him she must sooner or later, however. Even if he remained quiescent she could not well seclude herself for the remainder of the trip; and few things seemed to be more certain than that he would not remain quiescent. He would insist on seeing her; the fact that he left her in peace for twenty-four hours merely showed either that he was content to let her consider matters quietly, or that he, too, was uncertain as to what was to be done.