“Don’t be such a damn fool!”
An exclamation, almost a slight scream, came from the upper deck. Maseden knew in an instant that this time he had blundered beyond repair. Madeleine had heard his voice, and had recognized him. Moreover, the officer, the quartermaster, even the grateful Spaniard, were eyeing him with unmixed amazement.
The fat was in the fire this time! In another moment would come denunciation and arrest, and then—back to the firing squad! What should he do?
CHAPTER V
ROMANCE RECEIVES A COLD DOUCHE
But none of these thoughts showed in Maseden’s face. He laughed easily and explained in voluble Spanish that he swore in English occasionally, having picked up the correct formula from an American señor with whom he once took a hunting trip into the interior.
The sailor, hearing this flow of a language he understood, and not able to measure the idiomatic fluency of Maseden’s English, accepted the story without demur, but the fourth officer and quartermaster, both Americans, were evidently puzzled.
He soon got rid of the too-effusive half-caste, and retired to his berth. Thank goodness, since the one person on board mainly concerned was perforce aware of his identity, he was free to wash his face and take a bath! To oblige a lady he would have remained unwashed all the way to Buenos Ayres; now, every other consideration might go hang.