She had evidently just come to the companion-way and caught sight of me, and now held out her hands, with a smile coming into her troubled face.
“I am so glad,” she cried. “You will tell me the truth. My brother has sent me to see. Are we in great danger?”
“Oh no, I think not,” I cried, as I took her hands, and felt as if I had been neglecting a sister and a sick brother to gratify my desire to watch some coloured clouds.
“You are not deceiving me?” she cried. “Tell me, is not the danger very great? Come and tell John.”
She hurried me in through the saloon to where her brother was back in his own cabin, lying upon his mattress, looking terribly weak and ill. His face brightened though as he saw me, and he too held out his hands.
“Ah, Dale,” he said feebly, “I wanted to see you. It is so hard to lie here without being able to help, and I sent Lena to get news. Tell us the whole truth. Don’t keep anything back.”
I told him all I knew, meeting his great sunken eyes frankly enough, and he seemed relieved.
“Then there is hope?” he said at last.
“Certainly, I think so,” I replied. “They are mastering the fire, and it cannot burst out afresh, for the cargo not burned will be drenched with water.”
“But it may have worked its way through the ship’s side,” he said, with a shake of his head. Then, suddenly—“Look here, I want you, if I break down altogether, and my sister here is left alone, to take my place, and be as it were her brother. We have both liked you from the first day we met. Will you promise this?”