“What of her?”
“She desires greatly to come with us in the boat. And I pray thee to be kind to her, else will she die here of loneliness and terror.”
CHAPTER VI
This was a pretty astonishing request, and for a few seconds I gazed blankly at the girl.
“Good Heavens!” I said, “she must be mad to think of such a thing! And I should be as equally mad to even entertain the idea of taking her with me in a small boat on a voyage of more than a thousand miles.”
“Nay, she is not mad, Simi. And she hath set her heart on this. It would be cruel to leave her to die.”
“And to take her away would be still more cruel,” I cried. “Such a long, long voyage is a hard and dangerous venture even for strong men—men who should be both good navigators and good seamen. But a weak, delicate woman—oh, it's all sheer nonsense, girl.”
She put her hand on mine, and the moment I felt her warm touch, my impatience ceased. I would argue the thing out with her, I thought, and soon convince her that it would be impossible. Impossible—folly, utter folly. I must not think of such a thing for a moment. And yet—and yet—I rose from my seat, walked to the window, and then turned to Niâbon.
“'Tis a mad idea,” I said, trying to speak angrily, and failing lamentably. “'Tis you alone, Niâbon, who hath made her ask me to do this.”