He paused a moment; but she straightened herself before him and pointed to the door. He left us together.
"And you did not understand, either," she said, turning to me. "You thought I enjoyed his conversation, and his society, and his maddening attentions. Why couldn't you see? It was only to quiet him, to flatter his insufferable vanity, and keep him from further assault upon you. I knew—I knew by your face that first day out that you would kill him if he struck you again; and then—then the consequences! You had warned him, threatened, and nothing would have saved you. They would have hanged you—and what should I have done then?"
"And you did this for me, Mabel? Do you really care for me?"
"Since I first saw you," she said, her face flaming with color. "I should not tell you now," she added, "only for what has happened; for I heard your opinion of me that same evening."
"Then you also heard, Mabel," I said, as I took her again in my arms, "that I have loved you, and waited for you, since you were a child."
"Yes," she answered simply. "Perhaps, after all, that is why I am telling you now. I might have told you last night, and followed you down to the main deck; but when I looked in you were busy, and I went to the lee steps to go back and wait for you. Then I saw him at the window, and—and I heard—and screamed. I must have fainted, and when I wakened a little while ago Papa told me you had killed him—and I knew better."
"God love you, Mabel!" I said. "But what roused you last night—to tell me—to follow me?"
"What he threatened after you had warned him again. He purposed to strike you again on the first pretext, and allow you to attempt his life; then to have you imprisoned for murderous assault. He did not believe you would actually kill him; but I knew you would. I wanted to beg you not to try, to be patient, to hold your temper."
"Had you asked me that, Mabel," I said, "I think I should."
After breakfast that morning the body of the mate was given sea burial; then there followed a curious court of inquiry at the mizzen hatch—a court in which the two accused prisoners were also witnesses against each other, and in which the testimony of the only positive witness was invalidated by lack of identification. Mabel could only say that she had seen one of them draw his head and shoulders out of the mate's window just as his agonized scream had smitten her ears, and look into her face as she peered at him from the head of the steps. But she could not tell one from the other. The men had heard the screams; but had seen nothing but myself, bending over the girl.