"No; I knew it was too late. I'd shown I couldn't be trusted with an important job; and I'd made a fresh start here." His answer touched the girl, and after a quick half-ashamed glance, she thought she had misjudged him. It was not her physical charm that had made him willing to condone her offense, for he showed none of the bold admiration she had shrunk from in other men. Instead, he was compassionate and, she imagined, anxious to save her pain. She did not answer and turning her head, vacantly watched the shore slide past. The mountains were growing blacker, trails of mist that looked like gauze gathered in the ravines, and specks of light began to pierce the gloom ahead. They marked Santa Brigida, and something must still be said before the launch reached port. It was painful that Brandon should take her guilt for granted, but she feared to declare her innocence. "You were hurt when I passed you at Adexe," she remarked, without looking at him. "You must, however, see that friendship between us is impossible while you think me a thief." "I must try to explain," Dick said slowly. "When I recovered my senses at your house after being ill, I felt I must get away as soon as possible, though I ought to have remembered only that you had taken care of me. Still, you see, my mind was weak just then. Afterwards I realized how ungratefully I had behaved. The plans didn't matter; they weren't really of much importance, and I knew if you had taken them, it was because you were forced. That made all the difference; in a way, you were not to blame. I'm afraid," he concluded lamely, "I haven't made it very clear." Clare was moved by his naive honesty, which seemed to be guarded by something finer than common sense. After all, he had made things clear. He owned that he believed she had taken the plans, and yet he did not think her a thief. On the surface, this was rather involved, but she saw what he meant. Still, it did not carry them very far. "It is not long since you warned Mr. Fuller against us," she resumed. "Not against you; that would have been absurd. However, Jake's something of a gambler and your father's friends play for high stakes. The lad was put in my hands by people who trusted me to look after him. I had to justify their confidence." "Of course. But you must understand that my father and I stand together. What touches him, touches me." Dick glanced ahead. The lights of Santa Brigida had drawn out in a broken line, and those near the beach were large and bright. A hundred yards away, two twinkling, yellow tracks stretched across the water from the shadowy bulk of a big cargo boat. Farther on, he could see the black end of the mole washed by frothy surf. There was little time for further talk and no excuse for stopping the launch.