"An extra man," he remarked to Ouenwa, sharply. "Who has taken it upon himself to improve on my orders?"
A blanket-swathed figure, forward of the mast, turned and crawled aft. Then the blanket fell away, and Mistress Westleigh, rigged out in an amazing mixture of masculine and feminine attire, laughed up at the commander.
"Promise to shield me from the wrath of Maggie Stone, when we go back," she whispered, in mock concern.
For a moment Bernard stared, with wonder and embarrassment in his eyes, the while Ouenwa hid a smile. Then he doffed his hat and caught the queer figure to his knee; and in the flush of the morning, under the grave regard of the Beothic warriors, he kissed her on lips and brow.
"What authority has Maggie Stone?" he cried. "If any one has a right to control your actions, surely it is I."
She slipped to the seat beside him. "And you told me I could not accompany you—that it would not be safe," she replied.
"Ay, but it was my duty to bid you remain behind," he said. "God knows it hurt me to refuse your so—so flattering a wish. But you accepted it calmly, dear heart."
"I accepted it for what it was worth," she laughed. "I could not shed tears over a parting which I felt certain was not to take place." Her face changed quickly from merriment to gravity. "I could not have stayed in the fort without you," she whispered. "Dear lad, I am afraid to death whenever you are out of my sight. I do believe this love has made a coward of me!"
For a little while there was no sound aboard the Pelican save the tapping of the reef-points on the swelling breast of the sail, and the slow creak of the tiller. Ouenwa, leaning far to one side, gazed ahead, while the warriors crouched on the thwarts. Then the man stooped his head close to the girl's.
"But on this trip," he whispered, "you must obey me—for both our sakes, dearest. It would be mutiny else."