The garden was full of rare trees, plants and flowers brought from every island of the Caribbean Sea, but Roddy did not pause to observe them. He led the way to a bench under a cluster of young bamboo trees and motioned to the girl to sit down. When she had done so he seated himself sideways on the bench and gazed at her. His eyes were filled with happiness.
“It’s quite too wonderful to be true,” he said contentedly.
Inez Rojas turned to the tropical splendor of the garden.
“Yes,” she answered. “Everything grows so fast here. The change is quite wonderful.”
Roddy shook his head at her disappointedly.
“You mustn’t do that,” he reproved her gravely; “when you know what I mean you mustn’t pretend to think I mean something else. It’s not honest. And time is too short. To me—these moments are too tremendously valuable. Every other time I have seen you I’ve had to keep looking over my shoulder for spies. Even now,” he exclaimed in alarm, “those infernal Broughton children may find me and want to play ride-a-cock-horse! So you see,” he went on eagerly, “you must not waste time misunderstanding me.”
“Will you tell me about the tunnel?” asked the girl.
“The tunnel!” repeated Roddy blankly.
But he saw that her mind was occupied only with thoughts of her father, and at once, briskly and clearly, he explained to her all that had been accomplished, and all the plots and counter-plots that were in the air.
“And how soon,” asked the girl, “do you think it will be safe to enter the tunnel?”