The joy in her eyes died away when she found that the captain merely

required a translator. The restraint she imposed on herself made her

tongue trip. She had to ask Suarez to repeat his statement twice

before she was able to put it into English.

"He says that the Indians only kindle a fire on that point when they

want the signal to be seen from the sea," she explained at last. "They

used it once, to his knowledge, when some of them had gone to the

island out there to kill seals. He cannot guess what it portends

to-day, but he is quite sure that they have many more canoes at command

than those which you now see up the bay."

Courtenay could not fail to notice her agitation. His quick intent was

to soothe her.

"I am afraid my sending for you in such a hurry rather alarmed you.

Suarez strikes me as a person of nerves; he overrates the enemy, Miss

Maxwell. I think you know me well enough to believe that I would not

mislead you, and I am quite in earnest when I tell you that we shall

drive off these unfortunate wretches with comparative ease. Why, I had

it in my heart to pity them a moment ago."

She was glad he misunderstood the cause of her agitation.

"Suarez is certainly rather dramatic," she said, smiling wistfully. "I

ought to have discounted his Spanish mode of address. But is it really

necessary that I should remain below?"

"It is. If shots are fired, or stones slung at us, the chart-house

will probably be hit. Ah, yes, I am sure you would risk that, and

more. But we may sustain casualties. And Christobal ought to have

help. You see, I am asking you to act the braver part."

He caught her hand and looked into her eyes. There are so many

messages that can be given in that silent language; for a blissful

moment, Elsie forgot the other woman. Not until she had left the

bridge did she realize that Courtenay, too, must have been equally

forgetful. And that was very distressing, both for her and the

unknown. But here she was, face to face with him, and in such close

proximity that she was unaccountably timid. While her heart leaped in

tumult, she forced her lips to answer: "You are right. You are always right. I was selfish in thinking

that--that I--might--"

There was a pitiful quivering in the corners of her mouth. Courtenay

felt her hand tremble.

"Be a brave girl, Elsie," he murmured. "You must go now. Have no

fear. We are in God's care. May His angels watch over you!"

"But you, you will not risk your life? What shall we do if anything

happens to you?"

She was strung to that tense pitch when unguarded speech bubbles forth

the soul's secrets. All she knew was that Courtenay was looking at her

as a man looks at the woman he loves. And that sufficed. The mere

sound of her name on his lips was music. He told her to go, yet held

her hand a willing prisoner. His words had the sound of a prayer, but

it was the orison of a knight to his lady. He bade her fear not, while

he trembled a little himself, though she well knew it was not fear

which shook him. Neither of them paid heed to the presence of Suarez.

For an instant they had a glimpse of heaven, but the curiously harsh

voice of the Spanish miner fell on their ears, and they came back to

earth with a sudden drop.




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