“No!” he retorted harshly. “I’m going now to pile up wood on the cliff for a beacon fire. In the morning I’ll start making that catamaran–”
“No, you shall not– You shall not go off, and leave me, and–and risk your life! I can’t bear to think of it! Stay with me, Tom–dear! Even if a ship never came–”
He turned resolutely, so as not to see her blushing face.
“Come now, Miss Leslie,” he said in a dry, even tone; “don’t make it so awfully hard. Let’s be sensible, and shake hands on it, like two real comrades–”
She struck frantically at his outstretched hand.
“Keep away–I hate you!” she cried.
Before he could speak, she was running up the cleft.
CHAPTER XXV
IN DOUBLE SALVATION
When, an hour or more after dawn the next morning, the girl slowly drew open her door and came out of the cave, Blake was nowhere in sight. She sighed, vastly relieved, and hastened across to bathe her flushed face in the spring. Stopping every few moments to listen for his step down the cleft, she gathered up a hamper of food and fled to the tree-ladder.