Nothing had been seen of the drogher, and Jack and Adair agreed that should she not appear in two or three days they would get leave to go in search of her. She might have been wrecked on one of the neighbouring islands, and the party on board be unable to obtain the means of returning. By noon the next day the hurricane had ceased, and Murray accompanied Colonel O’Regan to Saint John’s, followed by a servant leading Stella’s horse, and carrying her riding-habit. In every direction the havoc caused by the storm was visible; cottages blown down or unroofed, sugar-canes laid low, fruit-trees upturned or stripped of their fruit; in many places the road was almost impassable; but labourers were at work with saws and axes clearing away the trunks which lay across it. In the evening, when the air was comparatively cool and refreshing, Murray rode back with Stella. The colonel was detained by a person on business just as they were setting off, and begged that they would ride on, saying that he would overtake them. Alick said more than he had ever before ventured to do. Stella turned away her head while he was speaking; then, lifting her eyes to his face with an expression in hers certainly not of annoyance or anger, she answered—
“You have your profession, Mr Murray. You assuredly do not contemplate quitting that, and I am the daughter of one the world calls an adventurer. I cannot desert him while he allows me to bear him company, and I know not in what direction his fate may lead him. Perchance your regard for me may prove but a passing fancy, and you would regret having bound yourself to one whom, after we part on this occasion, you may not meet again for years, when she may be so changed, as everything we see around us changes, that you would not recognise her. I know too well that this has been the case with others—why not with us?”
Her voice trembled as she uttered the last sentences. Murray urged every plea which his honest affection prompted. He had no fears of what she dreaded. He trusted that before long he should obtain his promotion, and then, in these piping times of peace, he might expect to remain for some time on shore, and be able to occupy his Highland home.
“I dare not pledge my troth, but there is no one for whose happiness I can more earnestly pray,” said Stella, looking at him with her bright eyes beaming as the most ardent lover could desire. Will that satisfy you?
“Yes, dearest Stella because I know that you would not trifle with one who has given you a true and faithful heart,” answered Alick. He had never before uttered such words, and the tone of his voice showed the deep feeling which prompted them.
“I believe you,” she said simply.
Alick would rather have had a more demonstrative reply. A rough road strewn with branches, and other impediments to their progress, was not favourable for such a conversation. Still, as Stella had not objected to the terms he had applied to her, he had no reason to complain. They rode on for some time in silence. Stella was the first to break it.
“Mr Murray, you need not feel yourself bound to speak to my father on the subject, indeed I would rather you should not,” she said. “He pays me the compliment of putting full confidence in my discretion, and leaves me to act as I consider right. I suspect that his affection prevents him from believing me otherwise than perfect, and he thinks, consequently, that I am incapable of doing anything of which he would not approve.”
“In my eyes, too, you are perfect, Stella,” said Alick. “That by your own reasoning is the best proof of affection.”
“I do not doubt yours, Mr Murray, I am sure of it, and I am more than grateful,” answered Stella, looking up at him. “Still affection should not blind us to the faults of those we love, as in time the tinsel must wear off our idols, and disappointment, if not a painful reaction, will be the result.”