His offensive manner was, however, for the time stopped by the Cuban, who came down, and pointing to the inner cabin bade them go in there.
Their only course was to obey, and the two trembling women crouched together, dreading the coming night, and yet hoping that some successful effort would be made for their release.
“Let us hope and pray, Bessy,” said Hester, trying to be cheerful, in spite of her misery. “Dear old Rasp’s words were not uttered without meaning.”
“But is he to be trusted?” sobbed Bessy; “he was with our enemies.”
“Trusted? yes,” cried Hester; “his behaviour must have been to deceive the wretches, and he and old Oakum are working for our release.”
“If I could only be as hopeful as you are, Hester.”
“I am full of hope now,” cried Hester. “I can wait, and feel strong and full of energy, with my husband’s trust. Time back I could have died in my misery.”
As the hours passed on, they could hear the Cuban and his companion talking in the next cabin, and the clink of glasses told that they were drinking.
All on deck was very still. They had heard the sounds of preparation till nightfall, and then everything became very quiet; and, clinging together, the two women sat with every sense on the strain, listening for the danger they knew to be at hand, while they hoped for the rescue that might come.
It grew rapidly dark, and their cabin was only lit by the gleams that came beneath and through a few ventilation holes in the door, a glance through which, once timidly taken, showed the Cuban drinking heavily with his companion, who grew more stupid and riotous, while the only effect upon Lauré was to make his eyes glow as he sat glancing from time to time at the door.