"My God!" burst out the rolling-stone, "and to think that you are tied to that villain." "You have my love--what else matters?" she whispered shyly. "I want you, you, you!" he hissed. "Oh, child, you don't know how hateful my life has been without you." "We can only hope," she said bravely. "Lolie, there is murder in my heart when I think of it all. Aye, murder, crying, begging, moaning for its victim," he cried hoarsely. "Oh, Jack, you mustn't talk like that." "I can't help it, child, I want you too much!" groaned the rover dismally. Her small hand crept into his with a mute sympathy and perfect understanding. The very touch soothed him. No need to speak. Each knew the other's thoughts, and with wistful, tender glances they sat hand in hand, snatching a sweet comfort in being together. Whatever the future held for them, whatever fears or black forebodings each held in his or her heart, they put away from them, determined to let nothing cloud the sweetness of the moment. It might all be very wrong, but they were but human and both had suffered much. And now Broncho approached and insisted on lighting an immense camp-fire, though the night was quite warm and the trade wind mild and gentle. "It's shore a heap cheerless an' doleful rustlin' your chuck an' beddin' down for the night without a fire," he explained. "It's plumb comfortin' to lie in the smoke and kauf, an' minds me of old times, though I shore misses the song o' the night gyard ca'min' down the cattle an' the yowlin' o' the coyote huntin' his grub." Presently food was served out from the scanty store landed by the marooners, for while that lasted the _Ocmulgee's_ awful salt junk and hard-tack were placed on one side, with many a sigh of relief from the whaleboat's crew. Loyola insisted on taking Hawksley his allowance with her own hands, for which she received a choice lot of carefully picked insults by way of thanks. With bent head and her hands to her ears the woman writhed under the lashing tongue, each hideous, sneering sentence cutting her to the heart. With all her misery revived, she staggered back to the others white and shaking, and sank down by Jack's side in an attitude of utter despair. The rover bit his lips in a desperate effort to control his feelings, but there was a wild look in his eyes which the observant cowboy noticed with a kind of grim smile. "_Poco tiempo!_" he muttered to himself with a grunt of satisfaction. "_Poco tiempo!_" The bosun's mate, stretched by the side of his fellow conspirator, desperately strove to rally out of a growing despondency. His eyes roved round restlessly, and he fidgeted as if unable to remain quiet for long. What had been the result of Broncho's eloquence? Even Tari seemed to be affected by the general uneasiness, whilst the boy could not keep his eyes from the clear-cut shadow of the prisoner, silhouetted inkily on the moonlit sands.