Brandon of the Engineers

"I don't. Besides, it's some distance to Santa Brigida over a rough,

steep road that you'd find very awkward in the dark, while as I can land

you in an hour, it seems unnecessary for you to leave the boat here."

"Yes," said Clare, "perhaps it is."

Dick threw some coal into the furnace, and restarted the launch. The

throb of the engine was quicker than before, and when a jet of steam blew

away from the escape-pipe Clare imagined that he meant to lose no time.

She glanced at him as he sat at the helm with a moody face; and then away

at the black hills that slid past. The silence was embarrassing and she

wondered whether he would break it. On the whole, she wanted him to do

so, but would give him no help.

"Of course," he said at length, "you needn't talk if you'd sooner not.

But you gave me the cut direct in Adexe, and although I may have deserved

it, it hurt."

"I don't see why it should hurt," Clare answered coldly.

"Don't you?" he asked. "Well, you have the right to choose your

acquaintances; but I once thought we were pretty good friends and I

mightn't have got better if you hadn't taken care of me. That ought to

count for something."

Clare blushed, but her eyes sparkled and her glance was steady. "If we

are to have an explanation, it must be complete and without reserve. Very

well! Why did you change when you were getting better? And why did you

hint that I must know you hadn't stolen the plans?"

Dick studied her with some surprise. He had thought her gentle and

trustful, but saw that she burned with imperious anger. It certainly was

not acting and contradicted the supposition of her guilt.

"If I did hint anything of the kind, I must have been a bit light-headed,"

he answered awkwardly. "You get morbid fancies when you have fever."

"The fever had nearly gone. You were braver then than you seem to be

now."

"I suppose that's true. Sometimes a shock gives you pluck and I got a

nasty one as I began to remember things."

Both were silent for the next few moments. Clare's pose was tense and her

look strained, but her anger had vanished. Dick thought she was calmer

than himself, but after all, she was, so to speak, on her defense and her

part was easier than his. He had forgiven her for robbing him; Kenwardine

had forced her to do so, and Dick regretted he had not hidden his

knowledge of the deed she must have hated. It was bodily weakness that

had led him to show his suspicion, but he knew that if they were to be

friends again no reserve was possible. As Clare had said, the explanation

must be complete. It was strange, after what had happened, that he should

want her friendship, but he did want it, more than anything else. Yet she

must be told plainly what he had thought her. He shrank from the task.