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Yet she was hopeful and never daunted. She looked ahead with steady eyes and held fast to all she knew was good. Like Olivia, she had refused him, but while he was resigned to Olivia's refusal, he knew he was a fool to let Betty go. Sometimes he wondered----; and then got up impatiently and went off to study his manifests. There was no use in brooding, and he durst not look forward yet. In the meantime, his job was to see all was ready for unloading cargo when _Mossamedes_ reached port.
At Buenos Ayres, he and Don Erminio stopped one hot afternoon in front of an Italian cafe in a quiet square. Small tables occupied the pavement in the shade, and Don Erminio ordering wine and ice and aerated waters, mixed them in a bowl.
"It is not like _tinto granadilla_ and snow from the Peak when one has eaten much salt fish," he said. "However, to a seaman, all wine is good, and if Don Pedro were with us we would dance. But let us be happy, and if I go to sleep you will carry me on board."
Kit was satisfied Macallister had not joined them. He was strenuously occupied scaling the boilers, and when Kit left _Mossamedes_ strange bi-lingual threats and exclamations echoed about her stokehold. By and by Don Erminio began to glance about.
"_Vaya!_" he said. "Look at him! Now perhaps we can amuse ourselves. I will talk to the animal."
He got up, and carrying the bowl of wine, crossed the pavement. A man in white clothes occupied a chair at another table, and when he looked up Kit saw it was Captain Revillon. Kit had noted a small French cruiser at anchor in the roads.
"_Ola, senor!_ All sailors are friends," said Don Erminio. "Besides, this bowl is large and my companion is sober and very dull. The wine is not Spanish, but it will go, and when I drink your wormwood, in the morning my throat is bad."
Revillon bowed and let him fill his gla.s.s, and Don Erminio resumed in uncouth French: "We took you, my friend, that time on the Morocco coast!"
"It looks like that," Revillon replied, with a touch of dryness. "Still I do not see why you risked crossing the shoals. You had, no doubt, thrown the guns overboard."
Don Erminio indicated Kit, who had joined him. "He is a boy, but very obstinate. The English are obstinate and the Scots are worse. Me, I know. Well, his bargain was to land the guns, and they were landed."
"Then, I think you did take me," Revillon remarked with a quick, surprised glance. "Had I known----"
Kit was intrigued. He had sometimes wondered why Revillon had not looked for _Mossamedes_ in the morning. The coast was dangerous and the gale was fresh, but he had thought this did not account for all.
"The animal who loaded the s.h.i.+p sold us," said Don Erminio. "If you paid him, you did not get much for your money."
Revillon drained his gla.s.s and smiled. "Your betrayer did not demand a large reward; perhaps he expected to be paid in another way. However, now it is done with, I may tell you something. To begin with I did not trust Senor Wolf, although I knew the guns were on board and must not be landed. To force you to throw them overboard would satisfy me."
"Was it not your duty to stop and search our s.h.i.+p?" Kit asked.
"In a sense, it was so. In fact, I think the man who sold you expected me to seize her," Revillon agreed with some dryness. "Well, I followed you and steered a course that would pin you against the shoals. I had studied the chart and pilot book, and nothing indicated that a vessel could get across." He paused and shrugged. "Well, what would you have? I imagined the guns were overboard and you had run aground. My duty was not to wreck my s.h.i.+p. I hauled off the coast."
"They have given you a larger vessel!" Don Erminio remarked meaningly.
"I wish you luck. All sailors are honest, but not many are discreet. The politicians are animals, and I would drown the lot. Well, it is not important now, and the wine is gone."
Kit began to understand. Revillon had not been cheated; he was not very keen about seizing _Mossamedes_. It looked as if Wolf had engaged in dark political intrigue, and meant to use the French officer in his plot. Revillon, however, had seen his object. But the thing was done with, and Kit went off to the office of a merchant who was loading _Mossamedes_ with grain.
When her cargo was on board she sailed for Teneriffe, and anch.o.r.ed at Santa Cruz to land a few barge-loads. Kit, going to the agent's in the evening, met Jefferson in the plaza.
"Mrs. Jefferson and Miss Jordan are at the Golden Pine," he said. "They went to Laguna for a holiday and I came over to bring them back. Will you walk up to the hotel with me?"
Kit wanted to go, but said he could not: _Mossamedes_ would start for Las Palmas when they had landed another load of maize. Santa Cruz, sheltered by the volcanic range that cuts off the Trade-breeze, was very hot, and he asked why Mrs. Jefferson had left Laguna, which occupies a cool tableland behind the town.
"We meant to go back on board _Campeador_ this morning," Jefferson replied. "The company, however, have altered the sailing bill, and Don Maccario doesn't expect the boat to arrive for some days."
"If Mrs. Jefferson can get ready soon, we'll take you across," said Kit.
"We ought to make Las Palmas about daybreak and can give you good rooms on deck."
Jefferson agreed and an hour afterwards his party arrived. Kit's boat was waiting at the mole, and when they got on board, _Mossamedes_ went to sea. For some time Kit was occupied with his dispatch box, but as soon as he had sorted his manifests he went on deck.
There was no moon, the sea was phosph.o.r.escent, and the wind was light.
_Mossamedes_ rolled languidly and the foam that ran back from her bows sparkled green and gold. Mrs. Jefferson, Jefferson and Don Erminio occupied canvas chairs on the upper deck, but at first Kit could not find Betty. Then he saw a white dress in the gloom by a boat and heard Macallister's voice. Kit turned back and Betty laughed. He thought her laugh had a note of protest and wondered what Macallister had said.
"You must really stop!" Betty exclaimed.
Macallister's reply was not distinct, but Kit heard part: "Weel, it's for your ain good. Maybe ye might get better, but ye might get waur----"
"I'm going," said Betty firmly, and light steps indicated that she left the boat.
Kit, meeting her across the deck, thought her embarra.s.sed and when they joined the others she did not talk much. He, however, was satisfied to sit on the deck and smoke, knowing Betty was about. After a time Macallister returned and leaned against the rails. He chuckled and Kit noted that Betty did not look up.
"We're a humorous lot, though a' o' us dinna see the joke," he said.
"Noo I'm getting old I look on and laugh. When ye meddle ye get no thanks. For a' that, philosophy is sometimes hard. Ye meet folks who dinna ken their luck."
"It's possible, but I don't see where your remarks lead," Mrs. Jefferson rejoined and turned to the captain. "Do you see?"
"I am a sailor," said Don Erminio. "Sailors are not philosophers. They are honest people and some are fools. If they were not fools, they would not go to sea. But perhaps it is better to be a fool than an animal like the men who own the s.h.i.+ps."
Mrs. Jefferson laughed, and they talked about something else until she got up and glanced at Betty, who went with her to her room by the bridge. When the others went off Kit stopped and smoked. Betty had kept close to Mrs. Jefferson; it looked as if she did not mean to be left alone with him.
At daybreak he went on deck. There was not much wind, and _Mossamedes_ went steadily through the dim blue water. Her mastheads swung, but one felt no motion; the engines throbbed with an even rhythm. To starboard, dark rocks pierced a bank of mist; ahead a thicker bank indicated the Isleta hill and Kit looked at his watch. It was six o'clock. In half an hour _Mossamedes_ would steam into the harbour, and his chance of talking to Betty would be gone.
Kit wanted to talk to Betty, but was daunted. On the ocean voyage, he had seen a light. Perhaps it was strange, but he knew now the light had begun to burn one April day in the primrose wood; and then, for a time, he had lost it, because Olivia had dazzled him. Betty knew. He thought she knew all his follies, but she was kind.
Coming down from the bridge, he saw her by the rail. Her look was thoughtful; her brows were knit and putting her hand on a stanchion, she fixed her eyes ahead.
The mist was thinner and the sky above it began to gleam like an opal.
Soon the haze would roll back and the sun leap up. Kit advanced quietly, but Betty turned as if she knew his step. Somehow Kit knew she had been thinking about him. A touch of colour came to his skin and his heart beat, but he was calm. When one talked to Betty, one was not moved by strange, disturbing thrills; she did not dazzle one. Her light was clear and steady, and Kit knew it had after all been his guide.
"Betty," he said, "why did you refuse me at Liverpool?"
She gave him a quick glance, and for a moment turned her head. When she looked up her colour was rather high.
"We were very young, Kit."
"You mean, I was very young and rashly confident. You don't think about yourself. It was for my sake you let me go."
"Aren't you taking something for granted?"
"I think not," said Kit. "I'm dull, but sometimes I do understand, and I now see all I lost. You wanted me to have my chance; you thought to be tied to you might keep me back? Yet I believe you loved me. Let's be frank!"
"Suppose I did love you?" said Betty, with a blush, although her voice was quiet.
"To begin with, you know how I used my freedom; you know my ridiculous ambitions."
"You mean you were ridiculous when you fell in love with Olivia Brown?"
"Yes," said Kit. "Anyhow, it was ridiculous for me to imagine I could marry her."
Betty gave him a keen glance, for she was human. She liked Kit's staunchness, but nevertheless sometimes it jarred.