“I don’t think he ought to run about. His dear little paw is rather badly cut, and there may be more broken glass on the deck.”
“I hope not, for our Chileans’ sake,” laughed Courtenay. “I heard Mr. Boyle telling them to sweep it up, and they were hard at work when I went to my cabin.”
“Oh, is that where you hid yourself? No wonder I could not find you. Of course, Joey knew where you were. How stupid of me!”
“Please don’t call yourself names, Elsie. You don’t deserve them. And, by the way, may I address you by your Christian name? It slipped out to-day unawares. Not that I feel like apologizing, because I don’t. There are times when the heart speaks, not the guarded tongue.”
Luckily, the darkness covered the hot blush which leaped to her cheeks. She gave a nervous little laugh, and strove desperately to parry this wholly unexpected assault.
“I shall be delighted if you always call me Elsie. It sounds friendly, and I think our circumstances warrant a true friendship.”
“Excellent. I suppose you know that my name is Arthur?”
“Yes, but I had no notion of that sort of exchange. You are the captain, and a very serious sort of captain at times. I feel like a little girl when you look at me and tell me not to be naughty. So ‘Elsie’ sounds all right, but I simply dare not call you ‘Arthur.’ Just imagine what a sensation it would create in the saloon. I should feel creepy all over. And hadn’t we better be—”
“Elsie,” said he, with a tender note in his voice which thrilled her like a chord of exquisite music, “I want to tell you something. The knowledge is forced on me that there is another man on this ship who wishes to make you his wife. But I, too, love you, and I see no reason why I should stand aside for any man on God’s earth until you tell me with your own lips that you prefer him to me.”
“Oh!” gasped Elsie, and “Oh!” again, but not another word could she utter, she who had been so voluble a moment ago. The bitter-sweet pain of hearing this sudden avowal was almost overpowering. Her ideals of honor and truth were shocked; but she was a woman as well as an idealist, and she was stirred to the depths of her soul by the knowledge that she had won the man whose love she craved. Yet it must not be: she could never again hold her head high if she yielded to him. She must relinquish him, drive him away from her by an assumed coldness which would wring her very heart-strings. If he came nearer, if he took her in his arms, she would be unable to resist him. Her impulse was to fly, to lock herself in her room. But she could not drop the wounded dog on the deck, and Joey, satisfied by his master’s presence, snuggled up close to her breast, and made the most of his comfortable quarters. And now, while Courtenay stroked Joey with one hand, he placed the other on Elsie’s shoulder. What a plight for a frightened maid who wished to escape! Of course, because she wished that some one would come to her help, the deck was practically deserted. Certainly, Mr. Boyle did appear at the after end of the corridor; but he seemed to remember something strong and urgent which the crew ought to hear, and he turned back.