I had been considering how to tell him about Miralda, and after the next pause I asked him if he knew why we were in Lisbon. “You haven’t told me,” he replied drily. “You mean you have guessed?” He took his pipe out of his mouth, glanced at it, and then at me and smiled. “I know the symptoms. I’ve had the fever myself. You’re the sort to take it badly too.” “I have.” “What’s the trouble?” “All sorts and plenty of it.” “Well, I’m with you, if you want me. I’d love a scrap.” “I’m thinking of making a bolt of it.” “_Stella?_” I nodded. “The lady willing?” “I don’t know. I haven’t asked her. She’s been forced to give a promise to some one else. I’d better tell you something about it;” and I gave him a short outline of the position. “It’s a mix up, sure,” he commented drily. “But she’s a lovely girl. That’s a cert.” “How do you know?” “A man has eyes, I suppose. She’s a good sailor too. Seemed to enjoy that bit of a racket on the yacht.” “Yes,” I said, self-consciously. “If you can get her to put one of her dainty feet into a rowing boat, I’ll answer for it that she doesn’t take it out again except to mount the _Stella’s_ companion, and the rest would be as easy as shooting gulls.” “But how to do it?” He paused, shook his pipe out, refilled it and lit it. “If you leave it to me, I’d undertake to do it all right,” he said very deliberately. “How?” “I said leave it to me. I’ll tell you how when it’s done.” “But you’ve never spoken to her.” “All the better.” “I should ask her first.” “And spoil your chance. Ask her when we’re half-way across the bay.” “It may have to come to that.” “Better come first,” he said with his dry smile. “If you want to win.” That was my own thought secretly; but I was half afraid Miralda herself might resent such a strong step. We lapsed into silence and I sat thinking over the whole situation, and the longer I thought the stronger grew my conviction that to get Miralda away was at once the safest and simplest solution of all the difficulties. If she would go, of course. Would she? I could only answer that out of the hopes which her look that afternoon had roused. If she were free, I was certain of her. And free she certainly would be if I dared to carry her off in the _Stella_. Presently we began to speak of another matter. We were sitting at the open window with no light except from that of the full moon, and Burroughs went out on to the verandah and leant over, looking about curiously. “I suppose you think there may be something happen to-night by having us up here?” he asked as he sat down again. “Scarcely likely, but I thought best to be prepared.” “It’s turning-in time. I’ll keep the first watch.” “What have you seen?” I asked. “Nothing--except that any one could get in here easily enough.” “Oh, I don’t think there’s any fear of that.” “I wasn’t talking about fear of anything. But I shan’t turn in.” “Neither shall I, yet. I couldn’t sleep.”