Suddenly a strange craving came over her, and rising from her bunk she procured and propped her crucifix against the tiny wash-hand basin, and kneeling on the sloping floor before it, endeavoured to frame a prayer for the passing of the man's soul. Her long black hair hung in glorious profusion about her shoulders; tears streamed down her pallid cheeks; and her lips continually faltered over the words she tried to utter. When she had finished, her spirits recovered, and crawling back into her bed, she fell asleep.
It was long after daybreak before she awoke. The sun was shining brightly through the porthole above her bunk, and from the angle at which the schooner was lying, she knew a fresh breeze must be blowing.
Urged by a great anxiety to learn the latest news of Veneda's state, she dressed with all the haste she could command, and passed into the cuddy. As she entered it, the captain emerged from the berth opposite and greeted her with a mournful face. She divined the worst.
"You're going to tell me that he is dead," she said, clutching at the table.
"Ma'am, it's a thing which must come sooner or later to all of us. I won't deceive you--he is dead--passed away in the hope of a glorious resurrection, twelve minutes afore three bells in this morning's watch. Now, don't take on about it too much, there's a good girl, for he's better as he is than suffering the agonies he went through all night. You couldn't wish it, I know."
"Dead! dead!" was all she could say. It seemed impossible that it could be true. The news stunned her. Though she had expected and dreaded the worst, she had no idea that it would have come so soon. What should she do now? In spite of her consternation, her own position was always uppermost in her mind. It behoved her to play her cards carefully, or she might lose everything. Assuming a look of hopeless grief, unable to find relief in tears, she faltered--
Without another word Boulger led the way across to the cabin, and opened the door. She prepared to enter, but he would not permit it.
"No, ma'am," he said kindly, but with determination, "as I said last night, you cannot go in; this ship's mine, and while there's infection aboard, I'm not the man to run risks. But seeing he's your husband--and I'm real grieved for you--I'll stretch a point, and let you see him from here. But I dare not pass you in."