Olivia answered him. The shot and the rattle of the falling gear had filled her mood. “Yes,” she said. “But I must be prepared for that. I must be with Tom, by his side, when we fight the Spaniards. I do think it’s fine of him to want to help the Indians.” “Yes,” said Captain Margaret. “But won’t you go below? A braceblock on the head is a very bad preparation for helping any one.” He glanced anxiously astern at the man-of-war; he was surprised to see that she was not in sight. The _Broken Heart_ was clear of the harbour, feeling the heave outside, hidden from Salcombe by Lambury Point. The pursuing cutter was sailing back to the sixth-rate. It was a shock to him, for a moment of time, to think that now he had burned his boats, and that he was pledged to a very doubtful venture. “There’ll be no more firing,” he added. “Doesn’t Bolt Head look fine from here? Look at the breakers on the rocks there. Olivia, you must put on a warm coat or wrap. The sea-wind is cold.” “I’d rather be as I am,” she answered. “Tell me, Charles,” she added, “are you sure that you would like us to come with you? Quite sure? We could easily go ashore at Plymouth. But my husband is so bent on coming, and he’ll be so useful to you. You will let us come, won’t you? You know, all my life has been so empty. And now. Now I’m so happy, I want every one else to be happy. Oh, I’d love to help the Indians.” “You shall come, certainly,” said the captain. “But are you sure you’re fitted for the voyage? Our venture is not exactly. Ladies are out of place. You may have to suffer a great deal of very great hardship. And then you might---- I want you to think, Olivia. You might--we all might--be captured by the Spaniards.” “Oh,” she answered, “I went into that with Tom, after you’d gone, about half an hour after, when I told him of your visit. Directly I told him of it, he was eager to come with you. The first thing he said was, ‘Olivia, do you think your friends would take us?’” “It must have been rather a shock to you. To decide in such a hurry.” “Oh; but it is so nice to do that. Besides, if we hadn’t decided, we should have gone to Venice, or somewhere not half so nice.” “Well. How will you like being at _least_ six months from home? Have you reckoned on that?” “Oh, but the only home one has is just one’s self. The only real home.” “Now, Olivia. I love to have you with me. You know that of course. But you don’t realize how disagreeable the life may be.” A thought struck him. “Yes,” he muttered excitedly. “Nor how dangerous,” he added, “how frightfully dangerous.” “One can always be one’s self,” she replied. “And I shan’t be afraid of danger, with Tom by me.” “And the danger will threaten him, remember.” “I shall take care of him.”