Had she lost him? Must the humiliation of it all be bitterly deepened by failure? No. She felt her woman’s power, her tingling wit and intuitive diplomacy rise quickly to meet the crisis. “I pray you, do not go, Master Contempt. Have I been so very unkind?”
He turned back smiling, his self-conceit actually leading him to believe that his own little ruse of apparent indifference had worked success.
A bold, flashing plan came to her. She would play upon the man’s two conflicting desires at one and the same time. A double spell must shackle him.
“I have it,” she suggested, in a yielding voice. “Let us row out to the Admiral, and pretend we have left this dangerous land for good and all.”
His eyes sparkled. Fortune had showered him with favors. He felt less compunction now in making love. She little knew, he thought, how opportunely her suggestion came. He even feigned reluctance for the moment, to hide the eagerness of his steps.
They walked to the shore.
“I have not been on board my father’s ship,” she told him, “since we landed in the fly-boat. You have heard, no doubt, of our mishaps?”
“Yes, I’ve heard.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “But one thing I know not, and that is the countersign. I fear Dyonis Harvie will forbid me the ship.”
She laughed. “Nay, he is my tire-woman’s husband. You shall see.”
In a few minutes they were under the Admiral’s side, and in one more she had mounted to the deck.