“And did he, think you, Philip?”
“I have no doubt that he did. But I can answer no more questions, Amine. The chamber is open now, and there is no fear of his re-appearance.”
“I fear not that,” replied Amine, musing. “But,” continued she, “is not this connected with your resolution of going to sea?”
“So far will I answer you, that it has decided me to go to sea; but I pray you ask no more. It is painful to refuse you, and my duty forbids me to speak further.”
For some minutes they were both silent, when Amine resumed—
“You were so anxious to possess that relic, that I cannot help thinking it has connection with the mystery. Is it not so?”
“For the last time, Amine, I will answer your question—it has to do with it; but now no more.”
Philip’s blunt and almost rude manner of finishing his speech was not lost upon Amine, who replied:—
“You are so engrossed with other thoughts, that you have not felt the compliment shown you by my taking such interest about you, sir?”
“Yes, I do—I feel and thank you too, Amine. Forgive me, if I have been rude; but recollect, the secret is not mine—at least, I feel as if it were not. God knows, I wish I never had known it, for it has blasted all my hopes in life.”