Story 1--Chapter XXI.
The Shadow Darkened.
In the horror of those moments Hester Pugh felt nerveless, and after the first spasmodic attempt to shriek there was no necessity for the hand pressed so tightly over her lips as she was lifted by a strong arm and carried back a few paces, and then held firmly against the bulwarks.
The next moment, as with starting eyes she gazed wildly about in search of help, her captor’s lips were placed close to her, and words that seemed to scorch her brain were hissed into her ear.
“Have I not warned you sufficiently? But for the intense love I bear you, this moment would be your last. One plunge, and it would be impossible to save you in this darkness, and no one would realise who did the deed. Do you wish me to make use of the knowledge I gained to-day with those dynamite experiments; because, listen, I have not looked on in vain. One touch of a wire—one that I have laid—and this ship and all on board would be in fragments. That would have happened if you had gone forward to-night and betrayed me. Once more, listen; it is useless for you to fight against your fate, for I am not alone here; and when I cease watching you others take up the task. There. See, I release and trust you after what I have said.”
He took his hand from the trembling woman’s lips, but grasped her tightly still, lest she should sink down fainting.
“Now return quietly to your cabin,” he continued, “and remember this. You think to save Dutch Pugh and the rest by betraying me. Instead of that you will send them to their death. Now go back without a sound.”
Hester felt her arm released, and that she was free. Her first wild thought was to run forward, shrieking for help; her next that Lauré would keep his word, and, controlling herself she tottered with outstretched hands back to the cabin stairs, and reached the little cabin where Bessy was already asleep, and then, sinking on her knees, prayed for help in this time of need.
That night of agony seemed as if it would never pass away, for Hester crouched there sleepless and watching, starting at every sound, and trembling lest the Cuban should be already putting some diabolical scheme into action. At length the day broke, and quite exhausted she sank into a troubled slumber, from which she awoke affrighted with the feeling upon her that Lauré was bending down trying to read her face and tell whether she was going to warn her husband or not.
A smile of relief crossed her lips, though, as she saw that it was Bessy Studwick, and she listened calmly to her chidings, but refused to go to bed.