The Spaniard was a dignified man; he had inherited from his English

mother a saving sense of humor. It was intolerable that the pleasant

relations existing between the few survivors on board the Kansas should

be disturbed by reason of any failure on his part to acquiesce in

Elsie's right to bestow her affections where she listed. He wondered

if the girl had come on deck after supper; her habit was to retire

early, as she rose soon after the sun. He had seen her for a moment

only in passing out of the saloon, and there was a suspicious

brightness in her eyes for which solicitude on the dog's behalf would

hardly account. Why not put his fortunes to the test that night and

have done with it? Yes, that was the right course. He would cease

this petty watchfulness, this campaign of planning and contriving lest

others should monopolize more of her smiles and pleasant words than he.

A simple question would determine his fate. Either she was

heart-whole, or not; at any rate, he would receive a straight answer.

So it was on the cards that Elsie would be the amazed recipient of two

proposals in one evening, which is a better average than most women are

favored with in a lifetime. Christobal had entered the chart-house

with the fixed intent of warning Boyle that he was going below for a

moment to ask Miss Maxwell to come on deck, when a hurried step on the

bridge companion caused the imminent words to be withheld.

It was Courtenay, who had run up from the saloon to procure those

fateful letters which had so nearly parted Elsie and himself. He had

laughingly refused to tell her their history. That would spoil their

effect, he said. She must take them to her state-room and read them at

her leisure. Then she would see their true inwardness, and his

feelings would be spared, as he could not deny that the majority of

them had been written by ladies.

On his way, he looked into the wheel-house. There was no light in the

interior. Boyle, wrapped in a heavy coat, was seated in the most

sheltered corner.

"All quiet?" asked the captain, in his brisk way.

"Nothin' doin', sir," answered Boyle.

"I expect you are both feeling pretty tired. Tollemache and I propose

to relieve you at six bells."

"But why?" demanded Christobal. "It is you who have passed an exciting

day. I am ready to mount guard until dawn. Tollemache can join me now

if he likes, as Mr. Boyle ought to be in bed."




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