“I do not mind it. I couldn’t, after hearing how he was contradicted. A thousand thanks to my generous defender!”
“Oh! what I said of you was not meant for praise. I was but speaking the truth. But for you I should have been drowned. I am sure of it.”
“And but for you I should have been shot. Is not that also the truth?”
She did not make immediate reply. There was a blush on her cheek, strangely contrasting with a shadow that came over her face.
“I do not like the thought of any one being in my debt—not even you, Miss Vernon! Confess that we are quits, then. It will give me a contentment you do not dream of.”
“I do not quite understand you, Captain Maynard.”
“I shall be plain, then. Was it not you who sent your father to save me?”
It was a superfluous question, and he knew it. How could he be ignorant of her action under the remembrance of those sweet words, “I’ll come to you! I will come!”
She had not come, as he supposed; but she had done better. She had deputed one who had proved able to protect him.
“It is true,” replied she. “I told papa of your trouble. It wasn’t much for me. I had no danger; and must have shown myself very ungrateful had I not done so. You would have been saved without that. Your other friends would have been in time.”