"I think," he suggested, with a real sympathy in his voice, "that it
would be better if you went to the saloon, or your cabin. Believe me,
I shall come to you with every scrap of news. Boyle will see all that
happens and we shall know the best, or the worst, within an hour."
"If you would help me," she answered dully, "please take the dog away.
He is tearing my heart-strings. Poor little fellow, he makes no
pretence."
So Joey was fastened up, much against his will, and his piteous
protests no longer added to the girl's agony. She clung to the after
rail, and watched the boat, now a tiny dot hard to discern amidst the
ripples caused by the inflowing tide. Her intimate acquaintance with
the daily happenings of life aboard told her that Courtenay had chosen
the last hour of flood for his effort, thus gaining the advantage of
the ebb in the event of the life-boat's being pursued by canoes on the
return journey. By degrees, a tender little sprig of hope peeped up in
her dulled consciousness. The boat was very near the distant rocks,
and there was neither sight nor sound of the Indians. Could it be that
they were afraid--altogether broken and demoralized by the slaughter of
the preceding night? How quickly the acts of this drama shifted their
scenes! Sixteen hours ago, she and Christobal were actually
participating in the defense of the ship's last stronghold; now, the
broad decks resembled the inner spaces of some impregnable fort, while
the war was being carried into the enemy's territory. Yet the mortal
peril which overshadowed them was threatening as ever. Life seemed to
be doled out grudgingly, by minutes.
Suddenly she had a breathless desire to know why Courtenay was so sure
that the men to whose help he had gone were really members of the crew.
Christobal, dreading her despairing questions, was standing in the
position he had occupied before Boyle dragged him into prominence. The
chief officer was bracing a telescope against the ensign staff, and
keeping the lifeboat in a full field. Gray, she noticed, was not
looking towards Guanaco Hill, but swept all parts of the coastline
constantly with his binoculars. The Spaniard's field-glasses were
slung around his neck. He was not using them. He appeared to be deep
in thought. More often than not, his glance rested on the eddy created
by the swirl of the current past the ship's quarter. With a species of
divination, she guessed somewhat the nature of his reverie. The notion
stung her into a sort of fury. To quell it, she must speak again.
"Will you tell me now what it was that Suarez found out?" she murmured.
The doctor quickly appreciated her need of material for further
thought. She wanted to appraise at their true value all things
affecting that daring enterprise, bringing the evidence to the bar of
her hopes, and nerving herself to hear the crudest testimony as to its
dangers. He was glad to be able to beguile the next half hour with his
recital. He suppressed no detail except his own willingness to take
Courtenay's place in the boat. Notwithstanding his slight
affectations, he was a man of finely-tempered judgment. He saw now
that Courtenay could not have accepted his offer, nor was it likely
that the men in the boat would follow any other leader than the
captain. He even smarted a little at the knowledge. A super-sensitive
honor led him to fear that his successful rival might suspect him of
vaingloriousness. Herein Christobal did himself an injustice, and
Courtenay a greater one, as he was fated soon to learn.