“The more reason why we should make the most of our time now,” said Renshaw with a faint smile.  “To-morrow all things may be changed; to-morrow you may find yourself an heiress, Miss Nott.  To-morrow,” he added, with a slight tremor in his voice, “I may have earned your forgiveness, only to say farewell to you forever.  Let me keep this sunshine, this picture, this companionship with you long enough to say now what perhaps I must not say to-morrow.”

They were silent for a moment, and then by a common instinct turned together into a narrow trail, scarce wide enough for two, that diverged from the straight practical path before them.  It was indeed a roundabout way home, so roundabout, in fact, that as they wandered on it seemed even to double on its track, occasionally lingering long and becoming indistinct under the shadow of madrono and willow; at one time stopping blindly before a fallen tree in the hollow, where they had quite lost it, and had to sit down to recall it; a rough way, often requiring the mutual help of each other’s hands and eyes to tread together in security; an uncertain way, not to be found Without whispered consultation and concession, and yet a way eventually bringing them hand in hand, happy and hopeful, to the gate of Madrono Cottage.  And if there was only just time for Rosey to prepare to take the boat, it was due to the deviousness of the way.  If a stray curl was lying loose on Rosey’s cheek, and a long hair had caught in Renshaw’s button, it was owing to the roughness of the way; and if in the tones of their voices and in the glances of their eyes there was a maturer seriousness, it was due to the dim uncertainty of the path they had traveled, and would hereafter tread together.

IX.

When Mr. Nott had satisfied himself of Renshaw’s departure, he coolly bolted the door at the head of the companion-way, thus cutting off any communication with the lower deck.  Taking a long rifle from the rack above his berth, he carefully examined the hammer and cap, and then cautiously let himself down through the forehatch to the deck below.  After a deliberate survey of the still intact fastenings of the hatch over the forehold, he proceeded quietly to unloose them again with the aid of the tools that still lay there.  When the hatch was once more free he lifted it, and, withdrawing a few feet from the opening, sat himself down, rifle in hand.  A profound silence reigned throughout the lower deck.

“Ye kin rize up out o’ that,” said Nott gently.

There was a stealthy rustle below that seemed to approach the hatch, and then with a sudden bound the Lascar leaped on the deck.  But at the same instant Nott covered him with his rifle.  A slight shade of disappointment and surprise had crossed the old man’s face, and clouded his small round eyes at the apparition of the Lascar, but his hand was none the less firm upon the trigger as the frightened prisoner sank on his knees, with his hands clasped in the attitude of supplication for mercy.