But he eyed the inrush of the sea with much disfavor, so he leaped up
on the table beside Elsie, and looked at her as though he would ask why
she had permitted this sacrilege.
Though the dog was apparently unscathed and in the best of condition,
his head and forepaws were blood-stained. His advent dispelled the
mist which was gathering in the girl's brain. She feared a tragedy,
yet Joey assuredly would not be so cheerful, so daintily desirous to
avoid the splashing water in the cabin, if his master were injured.
She was doubtful now whether to go on deck or not. The mere presence
of the dog was a guarantee that Courtenay had not quitted the ship.
Indeed, Elsie colored again, and more deeply, at the disloyalty of her
ungoverned fear. Joey's master would be the last man to desert a
woman, no matter what the excuse. She strove to listen for any
significant noises without, but wind and sea rendered the effort
useless to untrained ears, and there was no shooting or frenzied yells
to rise above the storm.
"Oh, Joey," she said, "I wish you could speak!"
The sound of her own voice startled her.
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