“Where am I?” she asked, passing her hand over her brow.
“With me,” said Sir George, quickly.
“God forbid,” spoke Lucille in an instant, and those few words gave me hope.
Sir George motioned to Simon, who ran to the raft, bringing back with him his master’s sword. Seeing that the wind lay in that direction, I hastened to where I had cast my blade. It was gone, as was my gun. I knew then that Simon must have hidden them when he came ashore. Lucille was watching us.
She rose from her reclining position, and, seeing Sir George armed, and me without a sword, she ran between us.
“Hold!” she cried. “Add not murder to your other crimes, my lord.”
“Murder,” he exclaimed; “it would not be murder to slay in fair combat. It is but the execution of justice on a traitor.”
“Traitor?” spoke Lucille, questioningly, while her head was lifted proudly in the air, and her voice rang with scorn. “Who is the traitor, when he stands face to face with you, my lord, chief of all traitors. For you were traitor to a defenseless woman. Captain Amherst is no traitor, but a true and honorable gentleman, and--and--I love him!”
Then, being a woman, Lucille’s spirit gave way, and she wept bitterly. I turned my head aside, for sometimes a woman’s tears are sorrowful to look upon. However, she soon regained her composure.
A sudden silence fell upon us all. When Lucille had said “I love him,” I looked at Sir George, and he at me. Now such had been the turn of events of late, that I knew not what to think.