"Perhaps he is engaged to some such young lady already?"
"Haven't heard so. You may be sure there's one waitin' for him
somewhere. I know. There's no dodgin' luck, good or bad. I thought
it was goin' to be that friend of yours, but she's off the register,
poor lass. There! I didn't mean that. I 'm an idiot, for sure. You
see, I don't talk much as a rule, Miss Maxwell, or I should know better
than to chin-wag like a blazin'--huh, like a babblin' fool."
Elsie turned her face aside when he mentioned Isobel. It seemed to her
sensitive soul an almost unfair thing that she should be gossiping
about trivialities when the girl who had commenced this unlucky voyage
in such high spirits was lying beneath that grim sea behind the smiling
headland. Yet she knew that Boyle meant no harm by his chatter. He
was weak from his wound, and perhaps a trifle light-headed as the
result of being brought from the stuffy saloon to the airy and sunlit
chart-room. So she crushed a sorrow that was unavailing, and strove to
put the sailor at his ease again.
"I do not find any harm in your remark," she said resolutely. "Were it
possible, I should have been very pleased to see Miss Baring married to
a man of strong character like Captain Courtenay. By the way, who is
keeping watch on deck?"
"The doctor was here with me until a few minutes ago. Then the skipper
telephoned him. I guess there is some one on the lookout, but you
might just cast an eye shorewards. I'm not supposed to move yet."
He wriggled uneasily in his chair, for the spirit was willing; but
Elsie made him lie quiet; she rearranged his pillow, and stepped on to
the bridge. By walking from port to starboard, and traversing the
short length of the spar deck, she could command a view of the bay and
of most parts of the ship. She heard the dog scuttling down the
companion; on reaching the after-rail, she saw the captain engaged in
earnest, low-toned conversation with Tollemache and Walker. They were
standing on the main deck near the engine-room door, and examining
something which resembled a lump of coal; she saw the engineer take
three similar lumps from a pocket.
Christobal appeared, carrying a bucket of water, into which the lumps
were placed by Walker, who handled them very gingerly. After a slight
delay, he began to crumble one in his fingers, still keeping it in the
water, until finally he drew forth what Elsie recognized at once as a
stick of dynamite. Though it was blackened by contact with the coal,
she was certain of its real nature. She had visited a great many
mines, and the officials always scared the ladies of the party by
telling them what would happen if the explosives' shed were to blow up.
She had even seen dynamite placed in the sun to dry, as it is very
susceptible to moisture, and she wondered, naturally enough, why such a
dangerous agent should be hidden in, or disguised as, a piece of coal.