“With pleasure,” answered the young officer, and he immediately offered his arm to Britomarte, as the way was rugged.
But with a courteous smile she declined the assistance; and they walked on in an irregular group.
Under all these civilities there had been on both sides a half-suppressed eagerness of curiosity. On that of the young officer, to know how these American citizens happened to be found on the desert isle in the Indian Ocean. And on that of Justin to know how the war went in his native land; and also with him it was something more than curiosity; it was almost an agony of anxiety. And it broke forth as they went on.
“Outward or homeward bound?” he inquired.
“Outward,” replied the young lieutenant.
“I am sorry for that! I had hoped that you were going home. Nevertheless, you are as welcome—as welcome as—what shall we say, Miss Conyers? What simile shall we find to express how welcome he is?” said Justin, turning to Britomarte.
“None so strong as the simple fact,” answered Britomarte, and then, turning with a smile to the visitor, she added: “You are as welcome, sir, as friends from home to exiles on a desert island.”
Lieutenant Ethel bowed.
“From what port are you last?” inquired Justin.
“From New York.”