“Were you not afraid?” she inquired.
“Only that I might not again look into your dear eyes.”
She hid them from me with her hand. I pulled the little palm away, kissing her on the lips.
So we sat talking until it was late. The block became quiet, for it was filled with weary men and sorrowful women, who needed rest. We bade each other good-night, Lucille going to the women’s apartment, while I started for Captain Carteret’s room, where I was to sleep.
As I walked along the passage, I thought I heard a footstep behind me. I turned quickly. At the far end of the corridor, where a single candle threw a fitful gleam, I saw Simon.
He appeared to be gliding along, as if afraid of being seen. He slipped in an open doorway when he saw me turn.
Was he following me? What did he want?
Carteret was not yet in. I threw myself down on a bench, meaning but to rest until the Captain arrived. But, so weary was I, that, no sooner had my head fallen back than I was asleep.
CHAPTER XXVII.
SIMON.
There seemed to be much tumult in the block when I awoke. Captain Carteret was writing at a small table, as I sat up, rubbing my eyes.