“Was to die to secure her silence,” replied Hughes, shuddering.
“A pleasant lot of fellows; and when is this infernal plot to be carried out?”
“Last night was fixed for its execution, but a fear for the return of the ship we saw yesterday prevented it, and now it is determined that it be carried out to-night.”
“We may see a sail again to-day, and if we do, we are saved; but again, we may not,” muttered the captain, “and we must be prepared for the worst.”
“We had better, at all events, show no suspicion, but go to our breakfast as usual.”
“I will consult with Lowe; do you tell your old comrade,” said the captain, moodily, as the two moved away.
The simple breakfast was laid out before the cabin-door just as usual. The steward acted as cook, and Isabel superintended her breakfast table on the raft, with all the natural grace she would have shown, had she been in her father’s house in sunny Portugal.
Her face was sorrowful, as she advanced to meet Hughes, for yesterday had indeed brought her a cruel disappointment. So sure had she felt of rescue, that the blow had been very severe.
“Did I not tell you, Enrico, all is against us? Oh, I dreamed that the ship we saw yesterday had come back, and so vivid was the dream, that I lifted the sail expecting to see it,” she remarked.
The breakfast finished, Captain Weber and his mate rose to consult the chart.