strung to that tense pitch when unguarded speech bubbles forth
the soul's secrets. All she knew was that Courtenay was looking at her
as a man looks at the woman he loves. And that sufficed. The mere
sound of her name on his lips was music. He told her to go, yet held
her hand a willing prisoner. His words had the sound of a prayer, but
it was the orison of a knight to his lady. He bade her fear not, while
he trembled a little himself, though she well knew it was not fear
which shook him. Neither of them paid heed to the presence of Suarez.
For an instant they had a glimpse of heaven, but the curiously harsh
voice of the Spanish miner fell on their ears, and they came back to
earth with a sudden drop.

"The Feathered People are singing their war chant," he said, and his
gesture seemed to ask them to listen. They started apart, and it was
not Elsie alone who blushed. Courtenay crimsoned beneath the tan on
his face, and pretended a mighty interest in the doings of the savages.
The girl recovered her self-control more rapidly. She half whispered
the meaning of the miner's cry, whereon Courtenay tried to laugh.

"They will be singing a dirge next," said he with a jaunty confidence.
"Now, Elsie, off with you! Be sure I shall come and tell you when you
may appear on deck."

She hurried away. She recked naught of the Alaculof challenge. Though
the raucous notes of the tuneless lay could be heard plainly enough,
they did not reach her ears. When she raced down the saloon companion
she found Christobal bending over the small case of instruments he
always carried. He straightened himself in his peculiarly stiff way.

"What did the captain want?" he asked, with a suspicious peevishness
which, for once, detracted from his habitual courtesy. The note of
distrust jarred Elsie back into her senses.

"He wished me to translate Senor Suarez's explanation of another smoke
signal," she answered.

"Oh, was that all?"

"Practically all."

"He told you himself, I suppose, that he wished you to stay here."

"He did more. He drove me away."

"Against your will?"

"No. Am I not one of the ship's company? Is he not the centurion? He
says to this woman, Go, and she goeth, nor does she stand upon the
order of her going. Oh, please don't look at me as if I were cracked.
Surely one may mingle the Bible and Shakespeare in an emergency?"

"One may also tear linen sheets into strips," said Christobal, gravely.
Elsie