“You are too retiring,” she rebuked him smilingly. “But I shall not begin by finding fault. I want you to tell me some of your exciting adventures. Aynsley Clay was here, but he could not tell us much about you—and he was, of course, in trouble.”
“Yes,” said Jimmy softly. “I’m sorry for him. He’s a man you soon feel a strong liking for; and there was a good deal to admire in his father. In fact, we were on very friendly terms during the last few days we spent at the wreck.”
Ruth was silent for a moment. Then:
“Tell me about the wreck,” she requested.
“It’s rather a long story, and you may find it tiresome.”
“I’ve asked you to tell it.”
Jimmy was glad of the opportunity, because he was determined that she should have no cause to doubt her father. There was much still unexplained, but she must not suspect this, for it was unthinkable that she should bear any trouble from which he could save her. Still, he saw that he must be careful, for there were points which needed delicate handling.
While he began the narrative Ruth studied him carefully. He looked very virile and handsome with his bronzed skin, his steady eyes, and his figure fined down by privation and toil. Indeed, he had somehow an air of distinction; but he had changed and developed since she first met him. This was a different man from the pleasant, easy-going steamship officer. He had grown alert and determined, but he had lost nothing of his sincerity. He could be trusted without reserve, and she felt that she liked him even better than before.
His story of their adventures in the North was deeply interesting to the girl; and she prompted him with leading questions now and then, for she was keenly anxious to learn the truth about the wreck. For the last few months she had been troubled by dark suspicions.
“But, in spite of everything, you reached the gold!” she exclaimed at last.