“For myself, I want not courage—but for you, Amine—you know that his appearance portends a mischief that will surely come.”
“Let it come,” replied Amine, calmly; “I have long been prepared for it, and so have you.”
“Yes, for my self; but not for you.”
“You have been wrecked often, and have been saved—then why should not I?”
“But the sufferings!”
“Those suffer least who have most courage to bear up against them. I am but a woman weak and frail in body, but I trust I have that within me which will not make you feel ashamed of Amine. No, Philip, you will have no wailing; no expression of despair from Amine’s lips; if she can console you she will; if she can assist you she will; but come what may, if she cannot serve you, at least she will prove no burden to you.”
“Your presence in misfortune would unnerve me, Amine.”
“It shall not; it shall add to your resolution. Let fate do its worst.”
“Depend upon it, Amine, that will be ere long.”
“Be it so,” replied Amine; “but Philip, it were as well you showed yourself on deck; the men are frightened, and your absence will be observed.”