Page:George Gibbs--Love of Monsieur.djvu/252

 “Where, monsieur. What—”

“Madame, I pray that you will make haste. There is little time to lose. I should be at this moment upon the deck.”

“Monsieur would take me—?”

“Below the water-line, madame. There will be a fight. Shots may be fired. I would have you in safety.”

Alas for Mistress Barbara’s crafty plans and gentle resolutions. In a moment they were dissipated by the imperturbability, the tepid indifference of his manner, which should have been so different in the face of a situation which promised so much that was ominous to her. His coolness fell about her like a bucket of water, and sent a righteous anger to her rescue, so that her chill terror was driven forth for the nonce by a flush of hot blood. When she spoke, her voice rang clear with a certain bitter courage.

“Safety!” she cried. “Monsieur is too kind. I shall prefer to be killed here—here in the decent privacy of the cabin.”

“Madame,” said he, in impatience, “it is no 240