"I don't care to have a light. I am so rejoiced to get away from my prison that I don't care for anything," said she, with enthusiasm. "You don't know how much I have suffered over there, Ernest Thornton."
"I hope you have seen the last of it; but we must be very careful. In the morning you must stay in your cabin, for my uncle gets up very early, and walks all about the place. You must not let him see you on any account."
"I will not. I will be as careful as you can desire."
"In the morning I hope I shall be able to do something with you."
"I shall trust myself wholly to you, Ernest Thornton, and one of these days I hope to be able to repay you for your goodness to me."
"Never mind that, Kate; I am going to do what I think is right because it is right. I suppose you thought it was rather hard in me to take you ashore at the pier over there, this afternoon; but I'm sure I shouldn't have dared to do what I have done if I hadn't seen Mrs. Loraine, and satisfied myself that she ill-treated you."
"I think you did just right, Ernest Thornton; but I was willing to suffer rather than get you into trouble."
"I don't care for myself; it don't make much difference what happens to me. If I can only enable you to reach your uncle in New York city, that is all I want. But it is getting late now, and I think you had better go to sleep. You can do as I do, Kate, when I sleep on board. I always lock myself in."
I explained to her how this was done. There were two doors opening into the cuddy, one on each side of the mainmast, with a slide over each. Outside of these doors were two round holes, which I had sawed in the bulkhead for ventilation. By reaching the arm through one of these apertures the slide could be locked. I fastened Kate into the cuddy, and then gave her the key, with which she opened the door without difficulty herself.
"I shall keep a good lookout for you," said I, as I pulled my tender alongside.