Hester took a step towards the door, and then realised how weak she was, for she trembled and felt as if she should drop. But this was no time for hesitation, and she came back to say farewell.
“Put out the light or turn it down. I do not want any one to see me go on deck.”
Bessy smiled, and turned down the lamp until it was almost out; and then, opening the door gently, Hester stepped to the foot of the cabin stairs, where, as she laid her hand upon the cold brass rail, the trembling fit again seized her, for her heart whispered that Lauré should be watching her.
She recovered herself directly and ascended the cabin stairs, leaving the deep voices of the captain and the others talking behind her; and as she went on her courage seemed to increase, and whispering to herself that it was to save him she loved, she stepped cautiously upon the deck.
All was perfectly silent, and the darkness was intense, save ashore, where the fireflies glanced and played in scintillations amongst the trees. She turned from them with a shudder, for it reminded her of the evening’s encounter, and, trying to make out where her husband was watching, she went cautiously on, for there was not a sound to be heard.
The distance was very short, but she had to go to the side so as to avoid the masts and deckhouse, beyond which she felt that Dutch would be standing, and she had already reached the mainmast, when she heard a slight cough, which she knew to have been uttered by Dutch.
“He will believe me and love me again,” she said to herself, with her heart beginning to throb with joy, “and I shall save him from some dreadful death—save myself too, from that wretch.”
As these words were pronounced silently by her lips a chill of horror and a curse made her cower shivering back as something dark rose before her, an arm was passed tightly round her quivering form, and a damp, cold hand laid upon her mouth checked the shriek with which she was about to pierce the darkness of the night.