“Aye, and he said so in terms which told me something that I hope above all things, and yet dare not believe, for, God knows, I am no coxcomb, Arabella.  He said... but first let me tell you how I was placed.  I had gone aboard his ship to demand the instant surrender of your uncle whom he held captive.  He laughed at me.  Colonel Bishop should be a hostage for his safety.  By rashly venturing aboard his ship, I afforded him in my own person yet another hostage as valuable at least as Colonel Bishop.  Yet he bade me depart; not from the fear of consequences, for he is above fear, nor from any personal esteem for me whom he confessed that he had come to find detestable; and this for the very reason that made him concerned for my safety.”

“I do not understand,” she said, as he paused.  “Is not that a contradiction in itself?”

“It seems so only.  The fact is, Arabella, this unfortunate man has the... the temerity to love you.”

She cried out at that, and clutched her breast whose calm was suddenly disturbed.  Her eyes dilated as she stared at him.

“I...  I’ve startled you,” said he, with concern.  “I feared I should.  But it was necessary so that you may understand.”

“Go on,” she bade him.

“Well, then:  he saw in me one who made it impossible that he should win you — so he said.  Therefore he could with satisfaction have killed me.  But because my death might cause you pain, because your happiness was the thing that above all things he desired, he surrendered that part of his guarantee of safety which my person afforded him.  If his departure should be hindered, and I should lose my life in what might follow, there was the risk that... that you might mourn me.  That risk he would not take.  Him you deemed a thief and a pirate, he said, and added that — I am giving you his own words always — if in choosing between us two, your choice, as he believed, would fall on me, then were you in his opinion choosing wisely.  Because of that he bade me leave his ship, and had me put ashore.”

She looked at him with eyes that were aswim with tears.  He took a step towards her, a catch in his breath, his hand held out.

“Was he right, Arabella?  My life’s happiness hangs upon your answer.”

But she continued silently to regard him with those tear-laden eyes, without speaking, and until she spoke he dared not advance farther.

A doubt, a tormenting doubt beset him.  When presently she spoke, he saw how true had been the instinct of which that doubt was born, for her words revealed the fact that of all that he had said the only thing that had touched her consciousness and absorbed it from all other considerations was Blood’s conduct as it regarded herself.