“There is no time to lose,” whispered Mrs. Travers, and Lingard, too, spoke very low.
“No, not if I, too, am to keep what is my right. It's you who have said it.”
“Yes, I have said it,” she whispered, without lifting her head. Lingard made a brusque movement at her elbow and bent his head close to her shoulder.
“And I who mistrusted you! Like Arabs do to their great men, I ought to kiss the hem of your robe in repentance for having doubted the greatness of your heart.”
“Oh! my heart!” said Mrs. Travers, lightly, still gazing at the fire, which had suddenly shot up to a tall blaze. “I can assure you it has been of very little account in the world.” She paused for a moment to steady her voice, then said, firmly, “Let's get this over.”
“To tell you the truth the boat has been ready for some time.”
“Well, then. . . .”
“Mrs. Travers,” said Lingard with an effort, “they are people of your own kind.” And suddenly he burst out: “I cannot take them ashore bound hand and foot.”
“Mr. d'Alcacer knows. You will find him ready. Ever since the beginning he has been prepared for whatever might happen.”
“He is a man,” said Lingard with conviction. “But it's of the other that I am thinking.”