I knew this, that however sincerely she might have once supposed she loved Henley, his neglect, cruelty, dissipation, had long ago driven all sentiment from her.  Before we met, her girlhood affection had been utterly crushed and destroyed.  Loyal, she was, and true to every tradition of her womanhood.  No audacity, no boldness, could penetrate her reserve, or lower her self-respect.  Before I knew who she was, when I had every reason to doubt and to question, I was still restrained by an invisible personality which kept me helpless.  It was to guard his interest, not her own, that she had accompanied me on this expedition, risking her good name in the belief that he was unable to care for his own.  What would she do now? how would she feel toward me?  What change would it make in the friendly relationship between us?  I longed to tell her, and yet shrunk from the task.  She could not fail to know how much I cared; careful as I had been in word and action, yet a dozen times had my eyes revealed the secret.  I had seen her draw back from me, half afraid, had her restrain me by a gesture, or a word.  This could be done no longer—­we were free now, I to speak, she to listen, but I could only guess the result.  Back behind the rare depth of those eyes her heart was hidden, and thus far I had probed for its secret in vain.

The sunlight streaming in through the upper transom told me the sun was dipping into the west.  If we were to get away when night came there were many things to consider first; especially was I obsessed now with a desire to overhaul the Captain’s papers, and secure those which would be of benefit.  We must possess more proof than the garrulous talk of the second mate, and surely that proof would be discovered in the after cabin.  The noise of the steward’s dish-washing had ceased, and cautious investigation discovered him sound asleep, curled up like a dog, on the deck.  Assured as to this, I ventured up the companion stairs, and indulged in a glance forward.  Except for a group of sailors doing some sail patching in the shade of the charthouse, no one was visible.  The vessel rocked gently, and far forward there was a sound of hammering.  The mate would be there, overseeing the job whatever it might be.  There was a dark cloud overshadowing the eastern horizon, with zigzag flashes of lightning showing along its edge, but the sea was barely rippled.  There was no sign of any boat along the beach of the cove, and the fishermen had disappeared, not a glimmer of white sail showing above the waters.  Surely no better opportunity than this could be given.

I stole back, silent and unobserved, listened an instant to Broussard’s steady breathing, then unlocked the Captain’s door, and entered his cabin.  His wicked eyes, blazing with hate, glared at me as I approached, and, inspired by some sudden feeling of sympathy, I bent over, and removed the gag from his mouth.  The result was an outburst of profanity, bristling with threats, but these as instantly ceased as I picked up the cloth again.