My lady was seized by an odd fancy, and demanded to stow her jewels with her own hands. She took the casket to the light, and laid its contents out on the table, and debated over them with a look half rueful, half tender. In the end she chose a thumb ring of gold, too large for her little hand, too heavy for a lady's taste. She hid it in her handkerchief and quickly locked up the case that Maria might not discover the loss of one significant piece. In the soft darkness of the evening she flitted up on deck, a cloak wrapped about her, and her oval face pale in the dim lamplight. The ship made slow way now, the dark water lapping gently at her oaken sides. There was a little bustle on the deck; she heard the Master's voice raised: "Steady your helm!" She saw Beauvallet standing under the light of a swinging lamp, with his boatswain beside him. The boatswain held a lantern, and was peering into the darkness. Far away to the south Dominica could see the little glow of lights, and knew that Spain was reached at last. She stole up to Beauvallet unseen and laid a timid hand on his arm. He looked quickly round, and at once his hand covered hers where it lay on his latticed sleeve. "Why, child!" "I came--I wanted--I came to speak with you a minute," she said uncertainly. He drew her apart, and stood looking down at her quizzically. "Speak, child, I am listening." Her hand came out from the shelter of her cloak; in it she held the golden ring. "Señor, you gave me a ring of yours to keep. I--I think you will never see me again, and so--and so I would have you take this ring of mine in memory of me." The ring and the hand that held it were alike caught in a strong hold. She was swept out of the circle of light cast by the lamp above, and stood face to face with Beauvallet in the friendly darkness. She felt his arms go round her, and stood still, with her hands clasped at her breast. He held her in a tight embrace, laid his cheek against her curls, and murmured: "Sweetheart! Fondling!" Madness, madness, but it was sweet to be mad just once in one's life! She lifted her face, put up a hand to touch his bronzed cheek, and gave him back kisses that were shy and very fugitive. Her senses swam; she thought she would never forget how an Englishman's arms felt, iron barriers holding one hard against a leaping heart. A shiver of ecstasy ran through her; she whispered: "_Querido!_ Dear one! Do not quite forget!" "Forget!" he said. "Oh, little unbeliever! Feel how I hold you: shall I ever let you go?" She came back to earth; she was blushing and shaken. "Oh, loose me!" she begged, and seemed to flutter in his arms. "How may I believe that you could do the impossible?" "There is naught impossible that I have found," he said. "You shall leave me for a space, since to that I pledged my word, but not for long, my little love, not for long! Look for me before the year is out; I shall surely come."