No! All this seems an abominable
farce."
There was that in his tone which made his wife continue to look at him
with awakened interest. It was obvious that he suffered from a distress
which was not the effect of fear; and Mrs. Travers' face expressed real
concern till he added in a freezing manner: "The question, however, is
as to your discretion."
She leaned back again in the chair and let her hands rest quietly in her
lap. "Would you have preferred me to remain outside, in the yacht, in
the near neighbourhood of these wild men who captured you? Or do you
think that they, too, were got up to carry on a farce?"
"Most decidedly." Mr. Travers raised his head, though of course not his
voice. "You ought to have remained in the yacht amongst white men, your
servants, the sailing-master, the crew whose duty it was to. . . . Who
would have been ready to die for you."
"I wonder why they should have--and why I should have asked them for
that sacrifice. However, I have no doubt they would have died. Or would
you have preferred me to take up my quarters on board that man's brig?
We were all fairly safe there. The real reason why I insisted on coming
in here was to be nearer to you--to see for myself what could be or was
being done. . . . But really if you want me to explain my motives then I
may just as well say nothing.
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