"Admirable! I am sure Courtenay will agree. Indeed, I am ashamed that
we superior males failed to hit on the idea earlier. Before I go, let
me be certain that my forgiveness is complete?"
"Shall we quarrel about a degree of blessedness? I assure you I like
you more than ever. When all is said and done, you thought I was
flinging myself at our excellent captain's head, so you tried to spare
me the pangs of unrequited love." The words hurt, but she did not
flinch. Christobal, anxious to deceive himself, was radiant.
"Your charity goes too far," he cried. "That was not the exact reason.
No, my dear Miss Maxwell, I begin to exercise a new-born discretion. I
shall not elucidate that cryptic remark until after New Year's Day.
But I don't mind telling you why I have hit on a definite date. If all
goes well with us--and we have had so many escapes that Providence may
well send us a few more--the Kansas should steam out of our little
bay of Good Hope about that period. Then I shall remind you of our
discussion, and keep my promise."
With that he left her. After a gasp or two of surprise, for Elsie
could read only one meaning into his words, she hurried up the bridge
companion to arouse Mr. Boyle and ask what he would like for luncheon.
"Thank goodness, Joey," she murmured to the dog, whom she picked up in
her arms, "thank goodness, Mr. Boyle is neither an engaged man nor a
widower. I do believe our excellent doctor is more concerned on his
own account than on mine. And he said that your master's manner
'betokened a growing admiration.' I wish--no, Joey, I mean nothing of
the sort, and if you dare to hint at such a thing I shall be very angry
with you--very--angry--indeed."
"Huh," muttered Boyle, wide awake and watching her through the open
door, "some one has been worryin' that girl. It's a sure sign of
trouble when a woman whispers in the ear of a dog or cat. Now, who can
it be? That doctor chap? He cocked his eye at her this mornin' when
she spoke about Ventana. He's a pretty tough old bird to think about
settin' up house with a nice young jenny wren. Damn his eyes! he may
be as rich as a Jew, but if she doesn't want him, an' is too skeered to
say so, I 'll tell him, in the right sort of Spanish, an' all. Now,
had it been the skipper--"
Boyle hardly knew what to think--"had it been the skipper."