"
The interchange of angry phrases went on aloud, amidst general
consternation.
"I would turn my back on you only I am thinking of these poor devils
here," growled Lingard, furiously. "Did you ask them how they feel about
it?"
"I ask no one," spluttered Mr. Travers. "Everybody here depends on my
judgment."
"I am sorry for them then," pronounced Lingard with sudden deliberation,
and leaning forward with his arms crossed on his breast.
At this Mr. Travers positively jumped, and forgot himself so far as to
shout:
"You are an impudent fellow. I have nothing more to say to you."
D'Alcacer, after muttering to himself, "This is getting serious," made a
movement, and could not believe his ears when he heard Mrs. Travers say
rapidly with a kind of fervour:
"Don't go, pray; don't stop them. Oh! This is truth--this is
anger--something real at last."
D'Alcacer leaned back at once against the rail.
Then Mr. Travers, with one arm extended, repeated very loudly:
"Nothing more to say. Leave my ship at once!"
And directly the black dog, stretched at his wife's feet, muzzle on
paws and blinking yellow eyes, growled discontentedly at the noise. Mrs.
Travers laughed a faint, bright laugh, that seemed to escape, to glide,
to dart between her white teeth. D'Alcacer, concealing his amazement,
was looking down at her gravely: and after a slight gasp, she said with
little bursts of merriment between every few words:
"No, but this is--such--such a fresh experience for me to hear--to see
something--genuine and human.
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