The contact was warm, electric. His brain cleared suddenly into full wakefulness.
“Eva—Eva!” he exclaimed. “It’s you? It’s impossible.”
She gently disengaged her head, and he saw that she was flushed and her eyes were winking with tears, and her face beamed.
“Don’t talk now,” she said. “Drink the rest of this.”
He knew she was right. He swallowed the rest of the contents of the tin that she held to his lips, looking at her meanwhile, marveling. These things seemed miraculous to him. His strength came back as he drank, and he realized the crisis that must be upon him—since Eva was here.
“What’s the situation?” he asked. “Where’s your father? Is he better? And Carroll—and the Chita? How do you come to be here ashore? There must be danger. Tell me. I’m all right now.”
“Father’s much better. He’s not strong yet, but he can talk almost as well as ever. The Chita is out there in the bay. How did you know her name? Father is aboard her, and Carrero and Diego—two Chileans who don’t speak anything but Spanish.”
“Carrero—Diego? So they speak nothing but Spanish? Of course! Doesn’t Morrison suspect who they are?”
“Of course he knows they’re enemies—now. We got them in Valparaiso. Father was desperately anxious to get here as fast as he could. He thought—he believed—that you——”
“I know!” Lang exclaimed as she hesitated. “He thought I was trying to beat him to it. I don’t blame him. It looked awfully fishy. I’ll explain. Go on.”