"You would insult me by disbelieving," he replied, in the same language; "tomorrow you will be with your friends."
"Thank you, sir, from my soul," she sobbed forth.
And before the captain could prevent her—before he suspected her intention, the was on her knees kissing his hand.
Tom Mitchell respectfully raised her from the ground and led her to the chair she had once refused.
"Then you are very unhappy here?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," she cried, "I have indeed been very unhappy; how, in fact, could I be otherwise?"
"And yet," said the captain, with a frown, "I have given the most strict orders with regard to your treatment."
"I beg most earnestly to acknowledge, sir, that I have been treated in the most honourable fashion, that I have been surrounded by the most delicate attentions. But oh, sir, I was a prisoner, alas! Far away from those I love, and whom my absence plunges, like myself, in utter despair."
"Pardon me, miss," said the chief, "my wrong towards you will soon be repaired, I promise you."
"Then you are good indeed!"