“When you see me drop into her all of a sudden, shove off and pull for dear life.”
Somehow just then he was not so anxious for a shot, but he held on with a determined mental grasp to his fine resolution, lest it should slip away from him and perish in a sea of doubts.
“Hadn't I better get back to the yacht?” he asked, gently.
Getting no answer he went on with deliberation:
“Mrs. Travers ordered me to say that no matter how this came about she is ready to trust you. She is waiting for some kind of answer, I suppose.”
“Ready to trust me,” repeated Lingard. His eyes lit up fiercely.
Every sway of flares tossed slightly to and fro the massy shadows of the main deck, where here and there the figure of a man could be seen standing very still with a dusky face and glittering eyeballs.
Carter stole his hand warily into his breast pocket:
“Well, Captain,” he said. He was not going to be bullied, let the owner's wife trust whom she liked.
“Have you got anything in writing for me there?” asked Lingard, advancing a pace, exultingly.