He staggered on to the small gangway and descended, leaving Frank to his own reflections, which were not very pleasant. If a man so tough and strong, and inured to hardship, as Captain Pardoe evidently was, felt the strain of the long watch on board, it was clearly beyond the power of a girl to undertake any part of work so trying.
She was still standing on the bridge, her face wet with the driving spray, and a tense look about the mouth which told of nerves high-strung. She was looking fixedly before her, and did not, as she had on her first coming on deck, bend her head to the flying spume in playful defiance. As he watched her, hesitating between his wish to help and his stubborn regard for his own rights, he saw her lips tremble, and that settled the matter.
“Madam,” he said, reaching her side in a moment, “I am ready to help.”
She withdrew her face from the sea, and he saw that her thoughts had been far from him or the ship, and in some confusion he repeated his words. A faint flush came to her cheek, and a brighter look in her eye.
“I’m so glad,” she whispered, and Frank, feeling something coquettish in this, flushed himself. With the faintest smile, she continued: “I come of a superstitious race, and your refusal, so brusquely given, too, had shaken my faith in my own power, and what is of more importance, in the success of my undertaking. I was reading ‘failure’ out there in the tumbling waters—But now you have reassured me. That is why I am glad.”
He flushed more deeply yet to think how easily she read his thoughts.
“You must forgive me,” he said, with a frank smile, “but I only wanted an excuse to satisfy my reasonable suspicions.”
“And you have found it?” she said, with an answering smile.
“Yes; I think I have.”
“Then you do not think that I am likely to menace the security of England with this craft?”