"Oh, Jack, Jack! if you only knew; if we could but be our true selves for one little moment!"
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind, you will know soon enough, and, oh, how you will hate me for it! But now,—oh, I cannot, Jack,—I cannot!"
Here she fell to crying, just as she had done on the schooner. It was an exact repetition of her strange behaviour on that eventful night. I did my best to comfort her, and after a long while succeeded. She dried her tears, and we set off upon our homeward walk. Not satisfied with what she had told me, I determined to renew the subject on the morrow.
But the morrow had something of its own in store for me, of which I could not have even the vaguest idea.
When we returned to the hotel, the Albino was smoking in the verandah. After a few commonplaces about the beauty of the night, I went into my room to procure a cigar, leaving Juanita alone with him. As soon as I had obtained a weed and lit it I rejoined them. Through no fault of mine they did not perceive me until I was close upon them. Macklin held a paper in his hand, from which I presumed he had just been reading. Juanita was evidently much put out about something.
"No, no, it's too cruel," she said, "I cannot do it."
To which he replied—
"I tell you, you must. It's all arranged, so don't let me hear any more nonsense about it."
When I coughed to warn them of my presence, both seemed considerably disturbed, though the Albino passed it off with his customary ease.