Really, I could not blame him for being eager to know what I had been doing to get myself embroiled in such a hot mess with the citizens of Bolivar; and as for his fair cousin, Diana, she was almost consumed with feminine curiosity.
The presence of a mysterious woman in the case added to its piquancy in her mind.
I was not in the humor to gratify this curiosity, at least just then, since other things needed my attention.
“Pardon me for the present, my friends, I beg, and when the opportunity arrives I will relate the story. Just now much demands my attention; I am wounded, the yacht must get out of here before we are overwhelmed—and a lady needs my attention. In half an hour I will join you.”
Then I bawled out to Cummings, who had taken charge since our captain was left seriously ill at New Orleans:
“Mr. Cummings, we must get out of this without delay. Have the launch aboard, the anchor up, and before we are an hour out I’ll talk with you about our course.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” he replied, for Cummings was an old nautical man, whose home had been for many years upon the briny, wherever his hat chanced to be hung.
I forgot Robbins for the time being, but he was just the chap to make himself quite at home anywhere.
Hildegarde had stood at a distance, waiting to see what disposition I would make of her; she could not have heard what passed between the Thorpes and myself, and I rather fancied she had no desire to listen.
There was an attitude of pride in the way she stood there which I did not like.