"I haven't seen your cabin yet," she said, her eyes wild with fear, a forced smile on her lips, as she spoke.
"There are several little things here that interest me.
Give me another minute or two to look at them."
She turned away to get nearer to the child, under pretense of looking round the cabin.
I stood on guard before the open door, watching her.
She made a second pretense: she noisily overthrew a chair as if by accident, and then waited to discover whether her trick had succeeded in waking the men.
The heavy snoring went on; not a sound of a person moving was audible on either side of us.
"My men are heavy sleepers," I said, smiling significantly.
"Don't be alarmed; you have not disturbed them.
Nothing wakes these Dutch sailors when they are once safe in port."
She made no reply.
My patience was exhausted.
I left the door and advanced toward her.
She retreated in speechless terror, passing behind the table to the other end of the cabin.
I followed her until she had reached the extremity of the room and could get no further.
She met the look I fixed on her; she shrunk into a corner, and called for help.
In the deadly terror that possessed her, she lost the use of her voice.
A low moaning, hardly louder than a whisper, was all that passed her lips.
Already, in imagination, I stood with her on the gunwale, already I felt the cold contact of the water—when I was startled by a cry behind me.
I turned round.
The cry had come from Elfie.
She had apparently just discovered some new object in the bag, and she was holding it up in admiration, high above her head.
"Mamma! mamma!" the child cried, excitedly, "look at this pretty thing!
Oh, do, do ask him if I may have it!"
Her mother ran to her, eager to seize the poorest excuse for getting away from me.
I followed; I stretched out my hands to seize her.
She suddenly turned round on me, a woman transformed.
A bright flush was on her face, an eager wonder sparkled in her eyes.
Snatching Elfie's coveted object out of the child's hand, she held it up before me.
I saw it under the lamp-light.
It was my little forgotten keepsake—the Green Flag!
"How came you by this?" she asked, in breathless anticipation of my reply.
Not the slightest trace was left in her face of the terror that had convulsed it barely a minute since!
"How came you by this?" she repeated, seizing me by the arm and shaking me, in the ungovernable impatience that possessed her.
My head turned giddy, my heart beat furiously under the conflict of emotions that she had roused in me.
My eyes were riveted on the green flag.
The words that I wanted to speak were words that refused to come to me.
I answered, mechanically:
"I have had it since I was a boy."
She dropped her hold on me, and lifted her hands with a gesture of ecstatic gratitude.
A lovely, angelic brightness flowed like light from heaven over her face.
For one moment she stood enraptured.
The next she clasped me passionately to her bosom, and whispered in my ear:
"I am Mary Dermody! I made it for You!"
The shock of discovery, following so closely on all that I had suffered before it, was too much for me.
I sank, fainting, in her arms.
When I came to myself I was lying on my bed in the cabin.
Elfie was playing with the green flag, and Mary was sitting by me with my hand in hers.
One long look of love passed silently from her eyes to mine—from mine to hers.
In that look the kindred spirits were united; The Two Destinies were fulfilled.