"Yes," he answered; "tell me that, no matter where you go, you will not
leave Bridgetown without letting me know of it?"

"I will not, indeed," said she; "and if it is to Jamaica we go, perhaps
my father--but no, I don't believe he will do that. He will be too much
wrapped up in his ship to want for company to whom he must attend and
talk."

"Ah! there would be no need of that!" said Newcombe, with a lover's
smile.

She smiled back at him.

"Good-night!" she said, "and see to it that you eat your fish to-night
while it is so fresh." Then she ran up the winding path to her home.

He stood and looked after her until she had disappeared among the
shrubbery, after which he walked away.

"I should have said more than I did," he reflected; "seldom have I had
so good a chance to speak and urge my case. It was that confounded ship.
Her mind is all for that and not for me."




CHAPTER II

A FRUIT-BASKET AND A FRIEND