"That's the thing to do, then," said Stormont bluntly.
He dropped one sopping-wet sleeve over his horse's neck, asking care not to touch the handle. He was thinking of the handful of gems in his pocket; and he wondered why Darragh had said nothing about the empty case for which he had so recklessly risked his life.
What this whole business was about Stormont had no notion. But he knew Darragh. There was sufficient to leave him tranquil, and perfectly certain that whatever Darragh was doing must be the right thing to do.
Yet — Eve had swum Star Pond with her mouth filled with jewels.
When she had handed the morocco box to Quintana, Stormont now realised that she must have played her last card on the utterly desperate chance that Quintana might go away without examining the case.
Evidently she had emptied the case before she left her room. He recollected that, during all that followed, Eve had not uttered a single word. He knew why, now. How could she speak with her mouth full of (diamonds)?
A slight sound from the shore caused him to turn. Eve was coming toward him in the dusk, moving painfully on her wounded feet. Darragh's flannel shirt and his hunting coat buttoned around her slender waist clothed her.
The next instant he was beside her, lifting her in both arms.
As he placed her in the saddle and adjusted one stirrup to her bandaged foot, she turned and quietly thanked Darragh for the clothing.
"And that was a brave thing you did," she added, "— to risk your life for my father's property. Because the morocco case which you saved proved to be empty does not make what you did any less loyal and gallant."