"I—I think so," she faltered. "There is—danger?"
"It is just as well to have a guard," he said drily. "In case the—ah!—delirium should return." He beckoned to one of the sailors, and spoke to him in Spanish.
As the man retreated, she turned to him, her blue eyes swimming in a bright mist of tears.
"You are very good!" she murmured.
"It is nothing," he said simply. "Will you come up on the hurricane-deck? I have a desire for wide sweeps—great distances to-day."
She hesitated.
"Your father is safe," he urged. "I have set two men at his door. And I have something to say to you."
"I also have something to say to you," she answered, with a queer little laugh.
They did not speak again until he had placed her in a luxurious steamer-chair, protected from the rays of the sun by a gay striped awning, and seated himself beside her.
Doris folded her hands in her lap, and gazed across the shimmering water. Slowly her eyes came back, and rested upon the figure beside her. She drew from about her neck a slender gold chain, from which depended a locket, and a ring, set quaintly with a ruby.