"That is my affair," he answered in his old curt way, and she felt a sense of relief at the familiar tone.
He remained where he was, however, regarding her intently and with an expression that would have startled the girl had she seen it. There was every excuse for that look on the Captain's face, for she made as comely a picture as any man might wish to gaze upon, with her slim, supple figure and the great braid of red-brown hair coiled round her shapely head. Masculine as she was in her fearlessness, her strength, and her power of command, she was withal intensely feminine, possessing besides all the lure of blossoming womanhood.
All this Calamity recognised clearly enough now, if he had never done so before. He was very far from being a sentimentalist, but, as he stood so near to her, the memory of that day when she had frankly avowed her love for him came back with poignant vividness. He knew now that he had been a blind fool and a brutal fool as well. The greatest treasure that life can give had been his for the taking, and he had spurned it. But now he had awakened to a sense of what he had lost.
Such were the thoughts which passed through Calamity's mind as he lingered irresolutely on the bridge. It was an altogether new sensation to him, this self-condemnation and timid hesitancy. For the first time in his life, perhaps, Calamity was afraid. It was, if nothing else, a chastening experience.
As for Dora Fletcher, her whole being was in a tumult of warring emotions. Instinctively she felt something of what was passing through the Captain's mind. She could not but guess that this sudden and remarkable change in his manner was due to herself, that it meant the beginning of a new relationship between them—at least, so far as he was concerned. Already their relations had passed through several different phases: first she had been a mere nonentity in his eyes; then an individual to be tolerated, a nurse later on, then a trusted and efficient officer, and finally—finally, she supposed, a memory ever growing more indistinct as the years passed.
Just as his near presence was becoming intolerable to the girl because of the complex emotions it occasioned, he moved away and strolled towards the other end of the bridge. She wished fervently that he would go below, for while he remained near her she was in a fever of apprehension.
Presently, however, he turned again and walked slowly back to where she was standing on the lee side of the bridge.
"Miss Fletcher," he said abruptly.
"Yes, sir," she answered, turning and facing him.
"Will you marry me?"