"I think I understand. You have decided, but you dare not trust me."
His first and most natural impulse was to deny the accusation. But on second thoughts he adopted another course.
"You are quite right," he said with a laugh, "I certainly do not trust you. And what is perhaps more to the point, I don't intend to. All things considered, I don't think you have the right to blame me."
With a little laugh, and without a sign of vexation in her tone, she answered, "Perhaps you're right. At any rate, you're wiser than I am in such matters."
Then taking his arm, they returned to their constitutional up and down the deck, just as if nothing out of the common had occurred.
And so day by day sped by, glorious weather, smooth seas, blue skies, and fair winds accompanying them. It was more like a pleasure trip than a flight for life. Captain Boulger improved upon acquaintance, and even the mate, Crawshaw, rubbed off some of his angles as they grew to know him better.
Three weeks almost to a day after dropping Pitcairn behind them, they were on the fringe of the Society Islands; and at Papeete the captain proposed to touch, to obtain supplies. His passengers, he knew, though grudging the delay, would not be sorry for an opportunity to stretch their legs; for the size of the schooner did not, necessarily, permit much pedestrian exercise.
One morning, coming on deck, Crawshaw called Veneda to his side, and pointed to a low smudge showing faintly on the horizon.
"What is it?" the other asked.
"Tahiti," was the reply, and with the word, like the opening of a mill-sluice, Veneda's old anxieties rushed back upon him. In an hour or two he would know whether or not the Albino was aware of his destination.