'I feel that I am responsible for his being here, Captain Bunting,' said she, 'and I shall continue wretched till we are journeying to England.'
'I would gladly put my ship about and sail her home to oblige you,' exclaimed the Captain, 'but for one consideration: not the pecuniary loss that would follow—oh dear no!' he added, slowly shaking his head; 'it would too quickly sever me from a companionship I find myself happy in.'
She bit her lip, looking down with a face of dismay and chagrin, while he eyed her as though seeking for signs of gratification.
'The Canary Islands are within a short sail, I think, Captain,' said I.
'They are,' he responded.
'It would occasion no deviation, I think, for you to heave off some port there—call at Santa Cruz—and send us ashore in one of your excellent sharp-ended quarter-boats.'
'That would be giving me no time,' he answered without the least hesitation, and speaking and smiling in the politest, the most bland manner conceivable, 'to prevail upon you and Miss Nielsen to accompany me.'
'But to accompany you where, Captain?' cried I, warming up.
'To the Cape,' he answered.
'Ay, to the Cape,' said I; 'but I understood that you were to call there to discharge a small cargo and await orders.'