It was a weary journey. The supper, materials for which Evan had brought from shore, created a welcome diversion; but supper over, they were still miles from home, and the helpers were hard put to it to keep the small passengers even moderately contented. Fortunately during the last hour the greater part fell asleep where they were, on the sofas, on the floor, on a couple of camp-stools placed together.
Evan and Corinna happened to meet beside one child draped over the arm of a chair in an excruciating attitude. They straightened her out together. Corinna did not look at Evan nor speak, but from her to him he thought he felt a warm current pass--or perhaps it was only because he wished to believe it. None of the other helpers were near. The child was sleeping soundly.
"_Please!_" she murmured distressfully. "You make it so hard for me!"
He would not remind her of what he had done for her, but he felt that it would be only decent of her to show some recognition of it. "Is nothing changed?" he asked.
"I'm deeply grateful to you, but I suppose that's another story, isn't it?"
"Well--would you be satisfied with my gratitude?"
"Ah, don't begin that again. Think of my position. Be generous!"
"You're always appealing to my better feelings," he grumbled. "I tell you, they won't stand the strain."
So absorbed were they in this little exchange that they did not hear footsteps approaching down the carpeted saloon. Looking up, they beheld Dordess approaching with the whole brotherhood at his heels: Anway, Tenterden, Domville, Burgess, and the blonde youth whose name Evan never knew.
Corinna flushed up at the sight of them, but it was impossible to say for sure what her feelings were--mixed, probably. She looked guilty at being surprised in talk with Evan, and she was certainly angry; angry at the men, or angry at herself for betraying the blush. Evan, on the alert for trouble, smiled grimly.
Dordess was no less cynical and bland than usual, but he could not conceal the angry glitter in his eye. As for the others, they betrayed their feelings more or less according to their natures; Anway was hard and composed; Tenterden vicious and truculent; little Domville apologetic and reproachful, and the other two, youths of no particular character, merely self-conscious and inclined to bluster.