‘My plans,’ he answered, making as if he would take my hand, and arresting the gesture with a fierce glance at the helmsman, ‘are first of all to get away. The rest must be our fortune. Anyhow, we’ll endeavour to keep afloat till we’re picked up.’
‘It might run into weeks before we fall in with a ship just here,’ said Will, ‘and what’s to happen then? It’s very well for Marian and me—what’s to become of you, sir?’
‘What’s to become of Tom?’ cried I. ‘If you mean that, you must ask what’s to become of me too.’
Tom stood up and said: ‘The convicts mustn’t see us always together, and particularly will it not do for them to see us talking earnestly. They’re felons, with the suspicions and passions of felons. I’m going to the captain’s cabin.’
He walked briskly to the companion-way, at which he paused to look steadily round the sea, and then disappeared.
‘Why do you take me up so sharply, Marian?’ said Will.
‘Call me Marlowe. Suppose you should be overheard? Sharply? Why do you ask what’s to become of Tom? It never could be right with me if it’s to be wrong with him. And yet you say it’ll be all right for you and me if we’re picked up.’
‘If we’re picked up he may be carried to England. What then?’
‘We’ll not allow ourselves to be picked up by a ship going to England.’
‘We may be nearly dead with thirst and without provisions. Look what a sea it is! Do you know where we are? This is the junction of the two Atlantics. If you are dying of thirst you’ll be glad to be picked up, though the ship we should fall in with were bound to—to——’ And my cousin, with an expressive face, pointed downward.