The joy in her eyes died away when she found that the captain merely
required a translator. The restraint she imposed on herself made her
tongue trip. She had to ask Suarez to repeat his statement twice
before she was able to put it into English.
"He says that the Indians only kindle a fire on that point when they
want the signal to be seen from the sea," she explained at last. "They
used it once, to his knowledge, when some of them had gone to the
island out there to kill seals. He cannot guess what it portends
to-day, but he is quite sure that they have many more canoes at command
than those which you now see up the bay."
Courtenay could not fail to notice her agitation. His quick intent was
to soothe her.
"I am afraid my sending for you in such a hurry rather alarmed you.
Suarez strikes me as a person of nerves; he overrates the enemy, Miss
Maxwell. I think you know me well enough to believe that I would not
mislead you, and I am quite in earnest when I tell you that we shall
drive off these unfortunate wretches with comparative ease. Why, I had
it in my heart to pity them a moment ago."
She was glad he misunderstood the cause of her agitation.
"Suarez is certainly rather dramatic," she said, smiling wistfully. "I
ought to have discounted his Spanish mode of address. But is it really
necessary that I should remain below?"
"It is. If shots are fired, or stones slung at us, the chart-house
will probably be hit. Ah, yes, I am sure you would risk that, and
more. But we may sustain casualties. And Christobal ought to have
help. You see, I am asking you to act the braver part."
He caught her hand and looked into her eyes. There are so many
messages that can be given in that silent language; for a blissful
moment, Elsie forgot the other woman. Not until she had left the
bridge did she realize that Courtenay, too, must have been equally
forgetful. And that was very distressing, both for her and the
unknown. But here she was, face to face with him, and in such close
proximity that she was unaccountably timid. While her heart leaped in
tumult, she forced her lips to answer: "You are right. You are always right. I was selfish in thinking
that--that I--might--"
There was a pitiful quivering in the corners of her mouth. Courtenay
felt her hand tremble.
"Be a brave girl, Elsie," he murmured. "You must go now. Have no
fear. We are in God's care. May His angels watch over you!"
"But you, you will not risk your life? What shall we do if anything
happens to you?"
She was strung to that tense pitch when unguarded speech bubbles forth
the soul's secrets. All she knew was that Courtenay was looking at her
as a man looks at the woman he loves. And that sufficed. The mere
sound of her name on his lips was music. He told her to go, yet held
her hand a willing prisoner. His words had the sound of a prayer, but
it was the orison of a knight to his lady. He bade her fear not, while
he trembled a little himself, though she well knew it was not fear
which shook him. Neither of them paid heed to the presence of Suarez.
For an instant they had a glimpse of heaven, but the curiously harsh
voice of the Spanish miner fell on their ears, and they came back to
earth with a sudden drop.