He was
whining anxiously. He seemed to be demanding that sympathy which she
alone could give him. In his half-human way, he was asking:
"Why has my master gone away in that boat? And why did he not take me
with him? When my master goes ashore he never leaves me on board; what
is the reason of to-day's exception?"
On the poop she found Boyle, Christobal, Gray and Walker. A number of
Chileans were leaning over the rails of the main deck. All the men
were talking earnestly. It was ominous that they should cease their
conversation the instant she appeared. One man may conceal his fears,
but twenty cannot. Their studied unconcern, their covert glances under
lowered eye-lids, told her that they believed the occupants of the
life-boat were in gravest peril.
She brushed away the tears determinedly, and looked at the boat,
already a white speck on the green carpet of the bay. She could see
Courtenay distinctly; some magnetic impulse must have gone out from
her, because she had not been watching him longer than a couple of
seconds when he turned and waved his hand. She replied instantly,
fluttering a handkerchief, poor girl, long after it became impossible
for her to distinguish whether or not he returned her signals.
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