There could be no doubt that she was wholly devoted to the cause of the author of that wonderful appeal, whether trickery lay back of it or not.
“Come, you know where the consul lives—we’ll take the child to him,” he cried, eager to dip into the adventure.
“Softly there; the thing’s impossible,” I said.
“Why do you say that?”
“It happens the consul is away on a junketing trip. I was invited, but lacked the nerve to try the awful conveyances to the interior of this healthy young republic.”
Robbins was never cast down; no matter when the masts went by the board, and the gigantic billows swept everything movable from the deck, his cheery voice was wont to bellow out words of hope, and with him there was always another chance.
“Well, then, it devolves on us, sure enough,” was what he said, lightly.
“You seem to count me in,” I said, with a smile.
“Because I know you too well to believe you could ever refuse to respond to such an appeal for help. Am I right, Morgan?”
“I guess you are—at least I’m quite fool enough to risk a broken head in such a mad adventure. There’s something in the air that urges one on; this is the land of romance and strange happenings, and I’m in a humor for anything to-night. Oh, yes, if you intend going with the girl, I’m at your side, though I rather imagine we may have a brawl of it before we finish the game.”