"Did Captain Courtenay leave any message for me?" she demanded.
"Huh! Message! Why, he will be away only a couple of hours."
The chief officer's tone was gruff, conveying the idea that women asked
silly questions, but his gruffness did not hoodwink Elsie. He had
prepared his replies beforehand.
"Surely you will tell me, Mr. Boyle?" she pleaded wistfully.
"Well, I happen to know there's a letter in the doctor's hands. But
that is to be given to you in case of accident alone. Isn't that so,
doctor? And there's no sign of any accident yet, thank goodness!"
Boyle sighed, like a man who lays down a heavy load. He had
successfully engineered Christobal into the conversation.
The Spaniard drew near. He had heard all that had passed, and tried a
new line.
"I was rather hoping that you would not put that awkward query," he
said, more alive than the sailor to the wisdom of discussing the very
topic which offered so many thorns. "Of course, none of us, least of
all Courtenay himself, disguises the difficulties which confront him.
We have not fought the Alaculofs in two serious battles without
learning their tenacity of purpose, and the mere fact that the men
hidden in that cleft are compelled to remain invisible shows that they
are beleaguered. But the last thing the Indians will expect is the
appearance of a boat-load of armed men at this hour, and to take the
enemy unawares is the essence of good generalship."
"When am I to have my letter?" she persisted, clinging tenaciously to
one clear thought amid the phantasms which thronged her dazed mind.
"Oh, come, now! That is not the hopeless view I want you to take. In
writing to you, Courtenay was only providing against a mishap. He
would not go to certain death. He has too high a sense of what is due
to his position as captain of a ship like the Kansas, loaded with a
valuable cargo and carrying so many lives. Nor does Tollemache impress
me as a would-be suicide. Both men think they will succeed, and they
had not any trouble in obtaining a boat's crew of Chileans. So you
see, there is a general belief in success, not failure."
She felt that the doctor was talking against time. He had instructions
not to give her that letter until there could be no doubt of the fate
which had befallen the rescuers. A mist came over her eyes, but she
bit her lower lip fiercely, and the white teeth left their deep
impress. The dog squirmed uneasily in her arms, and endeavored to lick
her face. Joey's anxiety rivaled her own; had he, too, a premonition
of evil?
Christobal was watching her intently. It was evident he feared the
outcome of any sudden overthrow of her self-control.