A girl, a beautiful girl, one
whom he had looked upon as he had looked upon the beautiful
unattainable things of this life, planning and executing for his
pleasure, and blushing joyously to find that which she had done for him
pleasing in his sight, left him bereft of words.
He turned to her and strove to speak, and then suddenly he faced about
and walked hurriedly to the deck. She came up behind him and placed
her hand upon his shoulder and smiled, understanding. His eyes met
hers, and then, with an involuntary movement, his arm was about her
waist. For a full minute they stood thus, neither moving, she
regarding him with wondering eyes, but still smiling slightly.
Suddenly he started; his arm swiftly dropped, and he glanced with a
jerk of his head towards the sail.
"Are we getting out of our course?" she asked.
"I was," he said, scowling, "but I won't again. Can you forgive one
who is no better than a--than a blamed pirate?"
"I can forgive you everything but calling yourself names," she said
gently.
Before another hour had passed, clouds began to rise from out the sea.
There came a fitful breeze, with a little hum to it. To the
southeast-ward the horizon assumed a grayish-white tinge.
Dan watched it anxiously, and the girl followed his gaze and then
glanced at him inquiringly.
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