The Lady and the Pirate - Page 137/199

"Do you mean that, Helena?" I asked, more than the chill of the

norther in my blood.

"Yes, I mean it. You are a coward!"

I stood for quite a time between her and the companion stair, my hand

still offering aid as she swayed in the boat's roll now. I was

thinking, and I was very sad.

"Helena," said I, "perhaps you have won. That's a hard word to take

from man or woman. If it is in any way true, you have won and I have

lost, and deserved to lose. But now, since little else remains, let me

arrange matters as simply as I can. I'll admit there's an element of

risk in our situation--one screw is out of commission, and one engine

might be better. If we missed the channel west of the shoals, we

might go aground--I hope not. Whether we do or not, I want to tell

you--over yonder, forty or fifty miles, is the channel running inland,

which was my objective point all along. I know this coast in the dark,

like a book. Now, I promise you, I'll take you in there to friends of

mine, people of your own class, and no one shall suspect one jot of

all this, other than that we were driven out of our course. And once

there, you are free. You never will see my face again. I will do this,

as a ship's man, for you, and if need comes, will give my life to keep

you safe. It's about all a coward can do for you. Now go, and if any

time of need comes for me to call you, you will be called. And you

will be cared for by the ship's men. And because I am head of the

ship's men, you will do as I say. But I hope no need for this will

come. Yonder is our course, where she heads now, and soon you will be

free from me. You have wrecked me. Now I am derelict, from this time

on. Good-by."

I heard footfalls above. "Mrs. Daniver's compliments to Captain Black

Bart," saluted L'Olonnois, "an' would he send my Auntie Helena back,

because she's offle sick."

"Take good care of your Auntie Helena, Jimmy," said I, "and help her

aft along the rail."

I followed up the companionway, and saw her going slowly, head down,

her coat of lace blown wide; her hand at her throat, and sobbing in

what Jimmy and I both knew was fear of the storm.

"Have they got everything they need there, Jimmy?" I asked, as he

returned.

"Sure. And the old girl's going to have a peach of a one this

time--she can't hardly rock in a rockin' chair 'thout gettin' seasick.

I think it's great, don't you? Look at her buck into 'em!"