The Lady and the Pirate - Page 136/199

"Go with Mrs. Daniver at once, Jimmy," said I to L'Olonnois.

"Aye, aye, Sir!" saluted he joyously; and added aside as he passed me,

"Hope the old girl's going to be good an' sick!"

I could see Peterson standing near the saloon's door, and bethought me

to send Jean Lafitte up to aid him in making all shipshape. We were

beginning to roll; and I missed the smooth thrust of both our

propellors, although now the engines were purring smoothly enough.

Thus by mere chance, I found myself alone with Helena. I put out a

hand to steady her as she rose.

"Is it really going to be bad?" she inquired anxiously. "Auntie gets

so sick."

"It will be rough, for three hours yet," I admitted. "She's not so big

as the Mauretania, but as well built for her tonnage. You couldn't

pound her apart, no matter what came--she's oak and cedar, through and

through, and every point----"

"You've studied her well, since you--since you came aboard?"

--"Yes, yes, to be sure I have. And she's worth her name. Don't you

think it was mighty fine of--of Mr. Davidson to name her after

you--the Belle Helène?"

"He never did. If he had, why?"

"Don't ask such questions, with the glass falling as it is," I said,

pulling up the racks to restrain the dancing tumblers.

"Oh, don't joke!" she said. "Harry!"

"Yes, Helena," said I.

"I'm afraid!"

"Why?"

"I don't know. But we seem so little and the sea so big. And it's

getting black, and the fog is coming. Look--you can't see the

shore-line any more now."

It was as she said. The swift bank of vapor had blotted out the

low-lying shores entirely. We sailed now in a narrowing circle of

mist. I saw thin points of moisture on the port lights. And now I

began to close the ports.

"There is danger!" she reiterated.

"All horses can run away, all auto cars can blow up, all boats can

sink. But we have as good charts and compasses as the Mauretania,

and in three hours----"

"But much can happen in three hours."

"Much has happened in less time. It did not take me so long as that to

love you, Helena, and that I have not forgotten in more than five

years. Five years, Helena. And as to shipwreck, what does one more

matter? It is you who have made shipwreck of a man's life. Take shame

for that."

"Take shame yourself, to talk in this way to me, when I am helpless,

when I can't get away, when I'm troubled and frightened half to death?

Ah, fine of you to persecute a girl!" She sobbed, choking a little,

but her head high. "Let me out, I'm going to Auntie Lucinda. I hate

you more and more. If I were to drown, I'd not take aid from you."