He left the room after Mr. Jobling, and Slyne, in the doorway, looked back at Sallie, the reassuring smile on his lips belied by his cold, calculating eyes.
"And how about you, Sallie?" he asked. "Have you made up your mind? Are you satisfied--so far? Or--would you rather go back to the _Olive Branch_?
"If you would--I'll let you off your promise, even now! And don't forget that this will be your last chance to recall it."
"You know I can't go back to the _Olive Branch_, Jasper," she answered slowly. "But--"
He did not give her time to say more. "That's settled for good, then," he asserted. "Your promise stands, and I know you'll keep it when the time comes--after I've done my part.
"I'm only sorry I haven't been able to get rid of Captain Dove right away, but it won't be long now till--You needn't worry any more about him. I'll see that he behaves better.
"If there's anything else I can do for your comfort, you must let me know. And now, I'll leave you to your own devices until it's time to start on our travels. Better get a rest while you can, eh? We've a very busy week ahead of us."
She saw that he did not intend to tell her any more in the meantime, and was glad to see him go. Then she called Ambrizette in for company, and sat down by the window again, to try to sort out for herself the bewildering tangle that life had once more become within a few hours.
Gazing out across the familiar sea with wistful, far-away eyes, she mused for a time over what Captain Dove had told Mr. Jobling of her history, and strove to piece together with that all she herself could recall of that dim and always more mysterious past out of which she had come to be Captain Dove's property, bought and paid for, at a high price, as he had repeated several times.
Her own earliest vague, disconnected, ineffectual memories were all of some dark, savage mountain-country; of endless days of travel; of camp-fires in the cold, and hungry camels squealing for fodder; of the fragrant cinnamon-smell of the steam that came from the cooking-pots.
Before, or, it might have been, after that, she had surely lived on some seashore, in a shimmering white village with narrow, crooked lanes for streets and little flat-roofed houses huddled together among hot sandhills where the _suddra_ grew and lean goats bleated always for their kids.