The heavy, convulsive sobs shook her slight frame, but she made no answer.
“Left an orphan when a mere child, joining my father’s regiment when a youth, I have never known what even a parent’s love may be, and it seems now as if the devotion of a whole life were concentred on you, Isabel.”
Again the soldier paused, and the sobs of the girl were alone heard in the cabin. The grey light of dawn was showing itself down the hatchway, and through the ports. The same grey dawn which was lighting the dying seaman’s long journey, was gradually creeping over the lover’s dream.
He took her hand carefully, gently, for it was the injured arm; he looked up into her face.
“Isabel, can you return a soldier’s love?” he asked, eagerly.
The head fell on his shoulders, the hot tears deluged his hand.
“Dearest Isabel, speak!” he urged, as he passed his arm round her waist.
“I can—I will!” whispered the girl. “But, oh, for pity’s sake be silent now.”
And he was silent, for his heart was full of sweet emotions, while Isabel sobbed on, and the grey light grew more and more perceptible.
“And your father, Isabel?” at last asked her lover.