"When I am to say good-bye to you?"
"To-morrow," she answered. "To-morrow night, all being well, we shall pick up a trading schooner off a certain island. Her owner is under an obligation to me, and will take you on board and convey you to Thursday Island. Thence you can travel home via Australia and the Canal or Honolulu and America, as you please."
I had expected that the parting was not far distant, but I did not think it would prove as close as this. I told Alie as much.
"It is the only opportunity that may serve," she answered. "And I must not keep you with me too long for your own sake."
Under cover of the darkness I managed to find and take her hand.
"It is only for a year, Alie. You understand that, don't you? At the end of a year you are to be my wife?"
"If you still wish it, yes," she answered, but so softly that I had to strain my ears to catch it. Then with a whispered good-night she slipped from me and went below.
At sundown next evening, surely enough, a small topsail schooner hove in sight from behind an island, and, seeing us, ran up a signal. It was returned from our gaff, and as soon as I read it I knew that my fate was sealed. Leaving Walworth to see my luggage brought up on deck I went down Alie's companion ladder to bid her farewell. She was seated on the couch at the further end, reading.
"The schooner has just put in an appearance and answered our signals," I began, hardly able to trust my voice to speak. "I have come to say good-bye. For both our sakes we must not let this interview be a long one. Alie, will you tell me for the last time exactly when I am to see you again, and where?"
"On the first day of May next year, all being well, I will be at an address in London, of which I will take care to acquaint you beforehand."