“I would, I would, I would,” she cried, and it was plain that she meant it, yet I did not dare to risk a full confession. What brutes we men are after all, and how much we stand in need of forgiveness every day of our lives!
“Tell me all about this newly found treasure,” she said, and now I launched out on fresh ground once more, resolving never to get on such thin ice again after so narrow an escape. As we talked, the indefatigable little naphtha launch came alongside, and Gertrude Hemster appeared at the gangway, followed by her miniature Countess. Miss Hemster was good enough to ignore us entirely, and, after a few words to her new companion, disappeared down the companion-way. The Countess toddled up to where we sat, and, addressing Hilda, said in her high-keyed Japanese voice:
“Mees Stretton, the mistress desires your attendance immediately,” and with that she toddled away again. Hilda rose at once.
“Don’t go,” I commanded; but she smiled, and held out her hand to me.
“Isn’t it funny,” she said; “you and I together are equal to one millionaire, yet we have to dance attendance when called upon, but, unlike others in bondage, we don’t need to cry, ‘How long, O Lord! how long?’ do we?”
“Not on your life, Hilda, as they say in the Wild West. The day of jubilee is a-coming my dear,” and, in spite of her trying to slip away, I put my arm around her and drew her toward me.
“Oh, the captain is looking at us,” she whispered in alarm.
“The captain is a good friend of ours, and has done the same in his time, I dare say,” and with that I——. Hilda swung herself free and fled, red as a rose. On glancing up at the bridge I noticed that the captain had suddenly turned his back on us. I always did like that rough man from Cape Cod, who would haunt the bridge during his waking hours whether the ship had steam up or not.