She sighed. A bitter thought peeped up in her that he was perhaps a
trifle careless in showing her these little attentions. She wished he
would speak to her of that other girl who awaited him in England. A
pleasant state of confidence would be established then; these secret
twitches of sentiment were irritating.
Some women, in her place, would pay no heed to that aspect of their
enforced relations; not so Elsie, whose virginal breast was unduly
fluttered by the discovery that a young man is the most natural thing
in the world for a young woman to think about.
She walked aft to obtain a nearer view of the operations. The sailors
had already shut in a large portion of the promenade deck with canvas,
and she noticed that loopholes were provided, every ten feet or so, to
permit the effective use of the defenders' firearms. Thus, at each
step, she was reminded of the precarious hold she had on life, and she
was positively frightened when some mad impulse surged through her
whole being, bidding her imperiously to abandon her ultra-conscientious
loyalty to a woman she had never seen. Why struggle against
circumstance? If death were so near, what did she gain by prudery?
For an instant she stood aghast at the revelation which had come to
her. She was in love with Courtenay. She was ready to die by his
side, fearless and joyous, if only he would put his arms around her and
tell her that she was dear to him. Ah, the fierce delight of that
first silent surrender! Her heart beat as it had never pulsed before,
even under the stress of the storm or the sudden terror of the night
attack. Her eyes shone, and her breath came laboriously between parted
lips. Golden dreams coursed through her brain. She was thrilled with
an unutterable longing.
Then her swimming eyes rested on a group of men standing on the poop.
Among them was Christobal, interested, like the rest, in the floating
of the mine. And forthwith Elsie fell from the clouds, and was brought
back, shuddering, to cold reason again. She was sick at heart; she
hated herself for her self-abasement. She must gird her with sackcloth
and mourn; and the fight must be fought now, without parley or
hesitation, unless the sweetness were to go forth from life for ever,
and all things should turn to ashes in her mouth.
So, marshaling the best qualities of her womanhood, she quelled the
turmoil in her breast, forced herself to join the men on the after
deck, and said, when the smiling Spaniard turned to receive her: "Why am I denied the mild excitement of mine-laying, Dr. Christobal?
Is it that you dread the effect on my nerves of these murderous
preparations?"