"Well," she said, "I almost think you owe Mr. Austin a little, too. If he hadn't stopped the Estremedura you would probably have been in Madeira now."
Again Muriel Gascoyne astonished Austin, for though it was evident she had not been aware of his presence, she showed no embarrassment, and smiled at him with a simplicity which, though he had not expected it from her, had in it the essence of all womanly dignity.
"Yes," she said, "I realise that. Mr. Austin, Harry has been looking for you everywhere."
Austin made her a little grave inclination, and then, because she seemed to expect it, shook hands with her.
"I am glad that the man you have promised to marry is one of my friends," he said. "There is not a better one in these islands."
He did not remember what Miss Gascoyne said, and perhaps it was not of any particular consequence, but when she left them it happened that he and Jacinta did not look at one another. There was, in fact, an almost embarrassing silence, and through it they heard the rhythmic swing of a soft Spanish waltz, and the deep-toned murmur of the sea. Then Jacinta laughed.
"I wonder what you are thinking?" she said.
Austin smiled, somewhat drily. "I was endeavouring to remember that there are a good many things the Estremedura's sobrecargo must dispense with. It is exceedingly unlikely that anybody will ever leave me eight thousand pounds."
"I fancy there are a good many of us who would like to have a good deal more than we will probably ever get," said Jacinta. "It can only be a very few who ever hear the celestial music at all, and to them it comes but once in their life."
Austin looked at her quietly. "A little while ago I should not have considered Miss Gascoyne capable of hearing it; but now, and because I know the man she has promised to marry, I almost think she will, at least occasionally, be able to catch an echo of it. It must be difficult to hear that orchestra once and forget it."