In the course of the forenoon Judith came out of her stateroom, cross and sulky, and muttering maledictions upon the sea, the ships, the guns, and most things in general.
Meanwhile the calm still continued and the works on the prize were all but finished.
On the third morning our two wounded friends were very much better.
Justin especially, whose hurt was the least severe, felt his strength so much revived, and his wish to see Britomarte so urgent, that in the afternoon he arose and dressed himself and crept out into the cabin.
Britomarte was seated with her elbow resting upon the center-table, and her forehead bowed upon her hands in deep thought.
Justin came quietly to her side, and resting his hand upon the table, whispered softly:
“Britomarte!”
Like a deer she sprang up, her hands extended, her whole face beaming with joy, as she exclaimed:
“Oh, Justin! I am so glad to see you! I have missed you so much! I wished to go and nurse you, but the doctor would not allow it. How is your wound? And oh! why did you conceal it from me?”
“Dear Britomarte, I did not wish to distress you with groundless anxieties. My injury was slight. I am nearly well now; and I am more than repaid for my short confinement by the welcome you give me. But yourself? I hear that you have been a sister of mercy among the wounded. How have you borne the trial?” he inquired, looking down upon her with infinite tenderness and solicitude.