“You must admit that, though the Captain was somewhat peremptory, the necessity was urgent.”
“And you must admit, Mr Hume, that he was obeyed with singular promptitude, which told of distinct pleasure on your part at the prospect of relieving the bridge of my presence. But still, you have not told me of our position.”
“We are well away from the cruiser, and when we have pierced this bank of fog, which we may do soon, as it is growing lighter, we should be free from danger of pursuit. Pray, however, do not think that we wished to keep the bridge to ourselves, and if I was presumptuous to act promptly, it was because I was anxious for your safety. You have not said whether you forgive me?”
“Is my safety, then, of any interest to you?” she said, turning her eyes upon him, and laying a hand upon his arm with the look and action of a born coquette.
“Not with me only,” he said earnestly, “but, if a new shipmate may say so, with every member of the crew. Mr Webster told me his heart was in his mouth when he saw you in danger.”
“He is a brave fellow,” she said softly, “and modest with it all—a man who would give his life with a smile for anyone he liked. It sometimes distresses me to think that I should have led him and the others upon this venture, dangerous as it must be.”
“Will you share in the danger?”
“Assuredly. This boat is mine. I had bought it when it was seized by the Customs. The enterprise is of my planning, and what danger there is will be shared by me.” She lifted her head as she spoke.
“Why should you venture upon anything that brings danger to yourself? Surely you have friends, relatives, who would have acted for you?”
She stood silent for some time, and looked at him curiously for his boldness.