At this most welcome word, the young man’s heart exulted; and in the hope, pride, and self-esteem, that kindled with the very thought of service, he forgot to dwell upon the lady’s jest. “Can you ask?” he cried. “What is there that I can do? Only tell me that.”
With signs of an emotion that was certainly unfeigned, the Fair Cuban laid her hand upon the box. “This box,” she said, “contains my jewels, papers, and clothes; all, in a word, that still connects me with Cuba and my dreadful past. They must now be smuggled out of England; or, by the opinion of my lawyer, I am lost beyond remedy. To-morrow, on board the Irish packet, a sure hand awaits the box; the problem still unsolved is to find some one to carry it as far as Holyhead, to see it placed on board the steamer, and instantly return to town. Will you be he? Will you leave to-morrow by the first train, punctually obey orders, bear still in mind that you are surrounded by Cuban spies; and without so much as a look behind you, or a single movement to betray your interest, leave the box where you have put it and come straight on shore? Will you do this, and so save your friend?”
“I do not clearly understand ...” began Harry.
“No more do I,” replied the Cuban. “It is not necessary that we should, so long as we obey the lawyer’s orders.”
“Señorita,” returned Harry gravely, “I think this, of course, a very little thing to do for you, when I would willingly do all. But suffer me to say one word. If London is unsafe for your treasures, it cannot long be safe for you; and indeed, if I at all fathom the plan of your solicitor, I fear I may find you already fled on my return. I am not considered clever, and can only speak out plainly what is in my heart: that I love you, and that I cannot bear to lose all knowledge of you. I hope no more than to be your servant; I ask no more than just that I shall hear of you. Oh, promise me so much!”
“You shall,” she said, after a pause. “I promise you, you shall.” But though she spoke with earnestness, the marks of great embarrassment and a strong conflict of emotions appeared upon her face.
“I wish to tell you,” resumed Desborough, “in case of accidents....”
“Accidents!” she cried: “why do you say that?”
“I do not know,” said he, “you may be gone before my return, and we may not meet again for long. And so I wished you to know this: That since the day you gave me the cigarette, you have never once, not once, been absent from my mind; and if it will in any way serve you, you may crumple me up like that piece of paper, and throw me on the fire. I would love to die for you.”
“Go!” she said, “Go now at once! My brain is in a whirl. I scarce know what we are talking. Go; and good-night; and oh, may you come safe!”