She was leaving the deck in silence when she came back and said—
"If we should have to leave this ship suddenly, I should not like—it would make me unhappy for ever to think of poor papa left in her."
She spoke, poor girl, with a great effort.
I answered immediately—
"Any wish you may express shall be carried out."
"He would go down in this ship without a prayer said for him," she exclaimed, sobbing.
"Will you leave this with me? I promise you that no tenderness, no reverence, no sincere sorrow shall be wanting."
"Mr. Royle, you are a dear good friend to me. God knows how lonely I should have been without you—and yet—I made you angry."
"Do not say that. What I do I do for your safety—for your ultimate happiness—so that when we say farewell to each other on shore, I may feel that the trust which God gave me in you was honourably and faithfully discharged. I desire, if our lives are spared, that this memory may follow me when all this scene is changed, and we behold it again only in our dreams. I should have told you my meaning just now, but one cannot always express one's thoughts."
"You have told me your meaning, and I shall not forget it. God bless you!" she exclaimed, in her calm, earnest voice, and went slowly down into the cuddy.