Her countenance assumed an even deeper gloom at this announcement. “Why did you come alone?” she asked fearfully.
“To be honest with you, it was through no fault of my own that I came at all at this time,” I explained. “After we missed you from the Sofal, I gave orders to stand by off the coast until the storm abated and we could land a searching party. Immediately thereafter I was swept overboard, a most fortunate circumstance as it turned out; and naturally when I found myself safely ashore my first thought was of you. I was searching for you when I heard the shouts of the savages and the sound of pistol fire.”
“You came in time to save me from them,” she said, “but for what? What are you going to do with me now?”
“I am going to take you to the coast as quickly as possible,” I replied, “and there we will signal the Sofal. She will send a boat to take us off.”
Duare appeared slightly relieved at this recital of my plans. “You will win the undying gratitude of the jong, my father, if you return me to Vepaja unharmed,” she said.
“To have served his daughter shall be reward enough for me,” I replied, “even though I succeed in winning not even her gratitude.”
“That you already have for what you have just done at the risk of your life,” she assured me, and there was more graciousness in her voice than before.
“What became of Vilor and Moosko?” I asked.
Her lip curled in scorn. “When the kloonobargan attacked us, they fled.”
“Where did they go?” I asked.