“Let me at least lay claim to a species of altruism,” he replied. “I can see fifty excellent reasons why our young and good-looking commander should be drawn to you, nor can I urge one against it.”
“But he is already engaged to another woman, so my one reason is worth more than all your fifty.”
“Ah, can that really be so?”
The tense eagerness in his voice might have warned her, were it not that she was shocked by the bitterness which welled up in her heart. She was amazed by this introspective glimpse; it alarmed her; she must convince herself, at all costs, that she had spoken truly.
Although the evidence she tendered was of dubious value, she strove to advance her argument further.
“I have prized our friendship greatly, Dr. Christobal,” she said, speaking with a calm deliberateness that rang hollow in her own ears, “so greatly that I am compelled to utter this protest. Now, to end a distasteful controversy, let me tell you what I know to be true. When the ship was stranded, and we all thought our only chance of safety was to take to the boats, by a fluke, the accident of the moment, I was left alone in the captain’s cabin. The sea was breaking in through the doorway, and it brought an odd relief to my over-burthened mind when I endeavored to rescue the contents of a locker which, for some reason, had been scattered on the floor previously. Among them I found some letters. I think you will believe me when I say that I would not consciously read another person’s private correspondence. Just then, I was hardly responsible for my actions, and I did happen to see and grasp the meaning of a passage in a letter from Captain Courtenay’s sister which alluded to his affianced wife. It is not such a tragic admission, is it? I would scarce have given it another thought were it not for your manner this morning and your words last night. I paid no heed at the time to the innuendo that I had come on deck to find him—to waylay him, as I have heard men say when speaking of a type of woman I despise. So I resolved to straighten out a stupid little tangle. It would be ridiculous, in our present state of suspended animation, to let such a slight thing mar our friendship.”
Elsie, was indulging in that most delusive thing, self-persuasion. It was not surprising, therefore, that she failed to note the unmixed satisfaction with which Christobal listened.
“Am I forgiven, then?” he asked, with a new tenderness in his voice.
“Oh, yes, let us laugh at it.”
“But—”