"You are mistaken if you think I am going to end this little excursion without gaining my end. Do you remember the time Lancy took you to drive, on purpose to gain your consent to whistle at the concert? Well, he kept you out until you gave him your promise, and I intend to profit by that idea of his, and keep you here until you give me a promise also."
"Why! Mr. McNeil, are you crazy?" said Dexie, in alarm. "What parallel do you see in the case? What good would a promise do you which you know I would break the moment I reached the shore?"
"You will not break any promise you make. I am not afraid of that. I think I know you better than you do yourself, Dexie."
Dexie flushed angrily, and turned her eyes to see the position of their boat. They had been drifting at the will of the tide, and she had given little thought to it in her excitement. But now, understanding what might be in store for her, it was necessary to think of some way of escape.
Could she keep Hugh from regarding her movements, and draw his attention from their boat's course?
After a few minutes' silence she asked, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth:
"I suppose there is not a piece of paper anywhere about," and she looked into her pocket and beneath the seat in a vain search; and there was a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she added: "I suppose you could not accommodate me with a piece of paper, could you, Mr. McNeil? Oh, thanks. And a pencil? Much obliged. Now, if there is only an empty bottle around some place, with a tight cork, I'll not despise the shipwrecked mariner's post office." "What are you going to do?" said Hugh, looking at her in surprise.
"Well, if I am to be detained here indefinitely, I would like to send a few parting words to Lancy. I am sure it would be such a comfort to him, in case the letter ever reached him, to know that I cared enough for him to remain true under such trying circumstances."
Was she making fun of him or not? Hugh could not tell, but he snatched the piece of paper from her hand and flung it over the side of the boat.
"Poor Lancy! how he will grieve for me!" she added in a commiserating tone, as she watched the receding scrap of paper. "You might have allowed me that one bit of consolation, I am sure, Mr. McNeil."