"Then why the suggestion?" he asked. "What is the use of it?"
"To gain time, to have the night in which to think over and work out some scheme. Perhaps," she said, leaning a little forward to him in her earnestness, so that, even in the now swift-coming darkness, he could see her large starry eyes quite clearly, "to have the night in which to attempt some injury to you. Oh! Mr. Crafer, for God's sake be on your guard. You do not know him as I do."
"Have no fear," he said, touching her hand gently, as though in thanks for her warning, "have no fear. Yet I will be careful. But what can he do to-night, even if he wished to do harm? I am as safe here in this little yacht as in a castle."
"You do not know. With him one can never tell what he is thinking of doing--what his designs are. His life has been terribly rough, and he has lived among lawless people and in lawless places. And his desire for wealth is such that, knowing your life is the only thing that stands between him and a great sum of money, as he believes, he would hesitate at nothing. No! Not even at taking that life."
Then she told him of the incident of the gun, and how she had let it fall into the sea so as to put it--the only firearm in the place--out of harm's way. He thanked her again for this precaution for his safety, and then she said that she must go. It was dark now, and doubtless her brother would be waiting for Reginald's answer, since she thought it very probable that he was quite as well aware that the Pompeia was once again anchored in the river as she was herself.
"Heaven bless you, Barbara, for your kindly, generous nature, and, above all, for your thought for me," Reginald exclaimed. "That I shall remember it always you cannot doubt. And be sure I will be very careful, even here, aboard. Though I do not see what he can do. Our old friend, Simon, would have attacked Nicholas openly if the circumstances had been similar, and they would have fought it out to the grim death. Your brother can't do that, and--short of an open fight in the river--he can do nothing. Therefore, Barbara, have no fear for me. And I am armed, too. See!" and with a smile he showed her a neat little revolver--one of Webley's New Express--a powerful weapon, though light and handy.
"God grant it may not come to that!" she answered, with a shudder. "Bad as he is, it would break my heart if he should die at your hands."
"It shall not come to that," Reginald replied. "I only showed it to you to ease your mind. And you may be sure that since he has no firearms I would not use one on him."
Then, as he put her ashore in the dinghy he said that, of course, she would tell her brother that he was willing to come to terms. "That is," he explained, "to go halves. Which halves mean that I am looking after your interests, you know, and----"
"Pray, pray," she interposed, "do not let us even think of such things now. If I have misjudged him, as I hope most earnestly I have, then there will be time to talk about shares and so forth. If I have read him aright----" but here she broke off with a little shiver, and, holding out her hand to him as they stood on the river's brink, wished him "Good-night."