‘It will comfort you to know that Wetherly is our friend,’ said I.
‘I have always regarded him as so,’ she responded.
‘Yes; but he has now consented to aid me in any effort I may by-and-by make to escape with you from this barque.’
She was silent, but her face was eloquent with nervous eager questioning.
‘Moreover,’ I proceeded, ‘Wetherly is now convinced that Captain Braine’s gold was a dream of that man’s madness. A dream of course it is. But do you know I am extremely anxious that we should find an island in that latitude and longitude of waters to which I shall be presently heading this ship.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘Because I think—mind, I do but think—that I may see a way to escape with you and Wetherly alone in this barque.’ She breathed quickly, and watched me with impassioned attention. ‘In fact,’ I continued, ‘even as I stand here, looking at you, Miss Temple, a resolution grows in me to create an island for Captain Braine’s gold, should the bearings he gave me prove barren of land.’
‘Create?’ she exclaimed musingly.
‘Yes. The South Sea is full of rocks. I’ll find the men a reef, and that reef must provide me with my chance. But,’ I exclaimed, breaking off and looking at my watch, ‘it is time for me to seek some rest. I shall have to be on deck again at twelve.’
‘I shall go to bed also,’ she exclaimed; ‘it is dull—and there are many weeks before us yet.’ She smiled with a quivering lip, as though she would have me know that she rebuked herself for complaining. ‘I believe you would tell me more if you had the least faith in my judgment.’