I at once started to tell her everything that had passed between Captain Braine and myself. I contrived to recite the skipper’s yarn as though I fully believed it, always taking care to sober my voice down to little more than a whisper as we alternately approached the fellow at the wheel and the carpenter at the other end in our pendulum walk. Her fine eyes glowed with astonishment; never did her beauty show with so much perfection to the animation of the wonder, the incredulity, the excitement raised by the narrative I gave her. ‘So _that_ is his secret?’ she exclaimed, drawing a breath like a sigh as I concluded, halting at the rail to gaze at her with a smile. ‘I presume now, Mr. Dugdale, that you are satisfied he is mad?’ ‘Perfectly satisfied.’ ‘You do not believe a word of his story?’ ‘Not a syllable of it.’ ‘And yet it might be true!’ said she. ‘And even then I would not believe it,’ I answered. ‘Did he explain how it was that all that gold lay hidden in a poor ship like the Spanish brigand—brig—whatever you call it?’ she asked, her curiosity as a woman dominating for a moment all other considerations which might grow out of that yarn. ‘No,’ said I; ‘nor would I inquire. It is giving one’s self needless trouble to dissect the fabric of a dream.’ ‘Poor wretch! But how frightful to be in a ship commanded by a madman! What object has he in telling you this secret?’ ‘He wants me to help him recover the treasure;’ and I then related the man’s proposals. She gazed at me with so much alarm that I imagined her fear had rendered her speechless. ‘You tell me,’ she cried, ‘that you have consented to sail with him to this island of his in—in—the Pacific? Are you as mad as he is, Mr. Dugdale? Do you forget that I look to you to protect me and help me to return home?’ Her eyes sparkled; the colour mounted to her cheek, her bosom rose and fell to the sudden gust of temper. ‘I am surprised that you do not see my motive,’ I exclaimed. ‘Of course I feigned to fall in with his views. My desire is to get to Rio as soon as possible, and ship with you thence for England.’ ‘To Rio? But I’m not going to Rio!’ she cried. ‘The captain solemnly promised to put me on board the first ship going home. Why did you not insist upon his keeping his word?’ she exclaimed, drawing herself up to her fullest stature and towering over me with a flashing stare. ‘He’ll not tranship us now,’ said I. ‘I’m like Caleb Williams. I have his secret, and he’ll not lose sight of me.’ ‘Oh, what miserable judgment!’ she exclaimed. ‘You are frightened of him! But were he ten times madder than he is, I would _compel_ him to keep his word. Rio indeed! He shall put us on board the first ship we meet, and I’ll tell him so when I see him.’