In Peril.
Hester turned shuddering away as she saw Lauré’s eyes fixed upon her, and soon began to tremble as she recalled a previous occasion when under a threat the Cuban exacted a promise from her, one that, believing her husband’s life at stake, she had given.
She tried to look in other directions, to devote herself to attending upon poor, weak John Studwick; but it was impossible, and strive how she would, her attention was constantly drawn back to the Cuban, who, with a smile upon his lip, watched her anxiety, and horrified her by coming to where the tube ran from the air-pump over the side, and picking it up held it in his hand as he glanced at her white face.
Then he threw it down again, and turning to the men about him, spoke first to one and then to another, with the result that each of the scoundrels seemed placed upon his guard, and to be ready for any emergency.
Lauré, according to his custom, was armed to the teeth, carrying quite a little arsenal in his belt, and, after going round to the men, he advanced to where Rasp was standing.
“Is that fellow working well?” he said aloud.
“Pretty well,” growled Rasp, taking some snuff. “Getting a bit lazy, though. He don’t work like he did when he was at it for himself.”
Lauré walked up and down the deck three or four times, and then stopped short by Hester, who shrank from his touch as he laid his hand upon her arm.
“When is pretty Hester Pugh coming to make amends for all her coldness?” he said, with a smile.
She did not speak, only cowered away, with her eyes fixed on his, like a bird beneath the glance of a snake.