“There is danger!” she reiterated.
“All horses can run away, all auto cars can blow up, all boats can sink. But we have as good charts and compasses as the Mauretania, and in three hours——”
“But much can happen in three hours.”
“Much has happened in less time. It did not take me so long as that to love you, Helena, and that I have not forgotten in more than five years. Five years, Helena. And as to shipwreck, what does one more matter? It is you who have made shipwreck of a man’s life. Take shame for that.”
“Take shame yourself, to talk in this way to me, when I am helpless, when I can’t get away, when I’m troubled and frightened half to death? Ah, fine of you to persecute a girl!” She sobbed, choking a little, but her head high. “Let me out, I’m going to Auntie Lucinda. I hate you more and more. If I were to drown, I’d not take aid from you.”
“Do you mean that, Helena?” I asked, more than the chill of the norther in my blood.
“Yes, I mean it. You are a coward!”
I stood for quite a time between her and the companion stair, my hand still offering aid as she swayed in the boat’s roll now. I was thinking, and I was very sad.
“Helena,” said I, “perhaps you have won. That’s a hard word to take from man or woman. If it is in any way true, you have won and I have lost, and deserved to lose. But now, since little else remains, let me arrange matters as simply as I can. I’ll admit there’s an element of risk in our situation—one screw is out of commission, and one engine might be better. If we missed the channel west of the shoals, we might go aground—I hope not. Whether we do or not, I want to tell you—over yonder, forty or fifty miles, is the channel running inland, which was my objective point all along. I know this coast in the dark, like a book. Now, I promise you, I’ll take you in there to friends of mine, people of your own class, and no one shall suspect one jot of all this, other than that we were driven out of our course. And once there, you are free. You never will see my face again. I will do this, as a ship’s man, for you, and if need comes, will give my life to keep you safe. It’s about all a coward can do for you. Now go, and if any time of need comes for me to call you, you will be called. And you will be cared for by the ship’s men. And because I am head of the ship’s men, you will do as I say. But I hope no need for this will come. Yonder is our course, where she heads now, and soon you will be free from me. You have wrecked me. Now I am derelict, from this time on. Good-by.”
I heard footfalls above. “Mrs. Daniver’s compliments to Captain Black Bart,” saluted L’Olonnois, “an’ would he send my Auntie Helena back, because she’s offle sick.”