It was my opportunity. Violet herself had proposed that the
original agreement--the agreement which bound me to ask for no
share of the treasure--should be canceled. Nothing now was
necessary to the ripening of my hopes but to induce Dugald Shaw to
immolate himself. Would he do so--on my bare word? There was no
time to explain anything--he must trust me.
I sprang up and dashed over to the pair who stood looking gloomily
out to sea. They turned in surprise and stared down, the two big
men, into my flushed up-tilted face.
"Mr. Shaw," I whispered quickly, "you must do as Miss Browne
wishes." In my earnestness I laid a hand upon his arm. He
regarded me bewilderedly.
"You must--you must!" I urged. "You'll spoil everything if you
refuse!"
The surprise in his face yielded to a look composed of many
elements, but which was mainly hard and bitter.
"And still I shall refuse," he said sardonically.
"Oh, no, no," I implored, "you don't understand! I--oh, if you
would only believe that I am your friend!"
His face changed subtly. It was still questioning and guarded, but
with a softening in it, too.
"Why don't you believe it?" I whispered unsteadily. "Do you forget
that I owe you my life?"
And at the recollection of that day in the sea-cave the scarlet
burned in my cheeks and my head drooped. But I saw how the lines
about his mouth relaxed. "Surely you must know that I would repay
you if I could!" I hurried on. "And not by--treachery."
He laughed suddenly. "Treachery? No! I think you would always be
an open foe."
"Indeed I would!" I answered with a flash of wrath. Then, as I
remembered the need of haste, I spoke in an intense quick whisper.
"Listen--I can't explain, there isn't time. I can only ask you to
trust me--to agree to what Miss Browne wishes. Everything--you
don't dream how much--depends on it!" For I felt that I would let
the treasure lie hidden in the _Island Queen_ forever rather than
that Mr. Tubbs should, under the original contract, claim a share
of it.
The doubt had quite left his face.
"I do trust you, little Virginia," he said gently. "Yes, I trust
in your honesty, heaven knows, child. But permit me to question
your wisdom in desiring to enrich our friend Tubbs."
"Enrich him--enrich _him_! The best I wish him is unlimited gruel
in an almshouse somewhere. No! What I want is to get that
wretched paper of Miss Browne's nullified. Afterward we can divide
things up as we like--"
Bewilderment, shot with a gleam of half-incredulous understanding,
seemed to transfix him. We stood a long moment, our eyes
challenging each other, exchanging their countersign of faith and
steadfastness. Then slowly he held out his hand. I laid mine in
it--we stood hand in hand, comrades at last. Without more words he
turned away and strode over to the council of three.