"Oh yes, you are, M'sieu'. I want to give you the chance of your life.
Mr. Gray has told me of your behavior, and he charitably added that
your cowardice and treachery might have arisen from ungovernable fear.
Now, if you wish to atone for your conduct, here is an opportunity. I
am taking a boat ashore to try to save some of my men who are
imprisoned there. There is a fair risk in the venture. The outcome
may be death. Will you volunteer to take an oar? That would whitewash
your weather-marks."
"It is impossible. I am too feeble. I cannot row."
"Ah, you swine! Can it be possible that you are a Frenchman? What
sort of countship is it you boast of?"
"Sir, I am a passenger on this ship--"
Courtenay's voice was raised a little.
"Mr. Boyle," he said, "give orders that if this skunk shows his nose
inside the saloon again he is to be kicked out. He can eat his meals
in his stateroom, or in the forecabin with the other savages."
Elsie heard every word. She fancied, too, that Isobel was listening,
though she gave no sign. But the unknown cause of the captain's anger
was as naught compared with the statement that he was about to leave
the ship. That stabbed her with a nameless fear. "Love looks not with
the eyes, but with the mind;" she saw her idyl destroyed, her sweet
dreaming roused into cruel reality. Her understanding heart told her
that Courtenay meant to go without bidding her farewell. She had heard
the lowering of the boat without heeding; he was already climbing down
the ship's side. Soon he would be far from her, perhaps never to
return. For he was not one to paint imaginary ills, and had he not
told de Poincilit what the outcome of the undertaking might be? Was it
his wish that she should remain in seeming ignorance of his mission
until it was too late for a parting word? Did he dread the ordeal of
telling her his errand? Even he, so strong and resolute, who had so
often smiled grim death out of countenance, feared the kiss which might
wean him from the narrow way. And she must prove herself worthy of
him. She must suffer in silence, trusting the All-powerful to bring
him back to her arms.
And then she found Isobel looking at her with frightened eyes.
"Did you hear?" came the tense whisper.
"Yes."
"And you are content to let him go?"
"Ah, God! Yes, content."
"But it is folly. He is the captain. He should not go. We have
risked enough already. Who are these men for whose sake he leaves you,
and all of us?"
"I know not, nor do I greatly care, may Heaven help me and them."