She was about to speak; I held up my hand.
‘I entreat you to let me have my way. Do not reason. You can offer no remedy for this situation saving that of haughty demand, which, unless you can back it, as a theory of escape, by a gang of men capable of pistolling the fellows forward, will be of no more use to you or to me than a feather to a drowning man. My resolution is, to consent to navigate this vessel to that South Sea island. The island may be an imaginary one; the crew’s disappointment may force us into a hunt; they will then certainly believe that the captain’s story was the fancy of a madman, and will ask me to carry them to some near port. This will be the issue of the adventure, supposing it is all smooth sailing till then. But what may happen meanwhile? A storm to cripple us, and force us to seek assistance? The sea abounds in the unexpected. We must wait upon fortune. Nothing shall tempt me to endeavour to force her hand by any sort of demeanour that is not one of tact, good temper, and secret, iron-hard resolution to snatch at the first chance that may come along. Why, is not such a policy as this your due, Miss Temple? Compared to what might happen if I did not deal with these men as a combustible not on any account whatever to be approached with matter that could give fire to them, this existence, this unendurable existence which we are now passing through might be looked back upon as a veritable paradise. I am one to twelve, and you have no protector but me. Think of it! Bear with my judgment then; help me by striving to witness wisdom in my determination; and above all keep up your heart, which is an Englishwoman’s, whose pulse should grow stronger as the road grows darker.’
She had put her hands to her face, and so sat listening to me, slightly rocking herself. Presently she looked up.
‘I wish I had the spirit you ask me to show,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You may have resolved rightly—but this long alienation from home—the misery of this existence—the peril we are in, which every day, which every hour, seems to increase—oh, it is hard to bear! I will endeavour to school myself—I will strive to see with your eyes’—she broke off with a sob.
‘All will come right,’ I exclaimed; ‘it is entirely a question of waiting. Have you patience? Yes—and your patience will keep you hopeful. Trust to me and to my judgment.’
I took her hand in both mine and pressed it. She did not offer to withdraw it. Indeed, it seemed as though she found comfort in the clasp; her hard expression of consternation softened, and her fine eyes took the same air of appeal I had noticed in them when she went below to her cabin.
‘There is yet the chance,’ I said, ‘of my being able to persuade the crew to transfer you to a passing ship. I might indeed,’ I went on, warming up to the fancy, ‘insist upon this as a part of my agreement with them.’
She slightly shook her head and her glance fell.
‘How long will it take us to reach this island?’ she asked, keeping her gaze bent down.
‘Ten or twelve weeks, perhaps.’