"Peter Port can wait the news, and Torode can wait his dues. I am not going till I take you with me, Carette."
"They will kill you!" she cried, and let go my hands to wring her own.
"Not if I can help it," I said stubbornly. "I want to live and I want you, and God fights on the right side. If they do get you away, Carette, remember that if I am alive I will follow you to the end of the world."
"They will kill you," she repeated.
"They are very busy loading the schooner. If the woman comes to you in the morning I shall be able to get you out. My boat waits on the shell beach."
"You would do better to get round to Peter Port," she persisted.
"Torode would be off before they would be ready. If it was one man to convince he would act, but where there are many time is wasted. I will see you safe first and then see to Torode;" and seeing that I was fixed on this, she urged my going no more.
She gave me her hands again through the bars and I kissed them, and kissed them again and again, and would not let them go. That which lay just close ahead of us was heavy with possibilities of separation and death, but I had never tasted happiness so complete as I did through those iron bars. The rusty bars could keep us apart, but they could not keep the pure hot love that filled us from head to foot from thrilling through by way of our clasped hands.
"Kiss me, Phil!" she said, of a sudden.
And I pressed my face into the rough bars, and could just touch her sweet lips with mine.