CHAPTER XL
HOMEWARD BOUND
"But, madame, I am as anxious as you can be! Independent
of my own feelings—and judge if they be not
strong—the brigantine should not lie here another hour.
After last night's work, it will not be long before a Spanish
man-of-war shows herself in the offing, and I have no desire
that our papers should be overhauled, now when my cruise
is so nearly finished. I tell you, my dearest wish is to
have it settled, and weigh with the next tide."
Captain George spoke from his heart, yet the Marquise seemed scarcely satisfied. Her movements were abrupt and restless, her eyes glittered, and a fire as of fever burned in her cheeks, somewhat wasted with all her late excitement and suspense. For the first time, too, he detected silver lines about the temples, under those heavy black locks that had always seemed to him only less beautiful than her child's.
"Not a moment must be lost," said she, "not a moment—not a moment," and repeating her words, walked across the deck to gaze wistfully over the side on Port Welcome, with its white houses glistening in the morning sun. They were safe on board 'The Bashful Maid,' glad to escape with life from the successful revolt that had burned Montmirail West to the ground, and destroyed most of the white people's property on the island. Partly owing to its distance from the original scene of outbreak, partly from its lying under the very guns of the brigantine, of which the tonnage and weight of metal had been greatly exaggerated by the negroes, Port Welcome was yet standing, but its
