Here we can get nothing. Why, the
disappointment alone--" Her voice failed her, tears started to her
eyes, and she began to tremble wretchedly. "If he--If I--lose him
I'll die, too," she sobbed.
O'Reilly tried to comfort her and she bowed her head upon his
shoulder.
"Promise that you won't go back," she implored him.
"Very well, if you'll consent to risk this miserable tub we found
on the beach--"
"I'll risk anything--a raft, even."
"It is large enough to carry us if we can manage to make it hold
water, but it won't be safe. The weather is good at this season
and it shouldn't take us long to run across to Andros if we have
luck. If we don't have luck--"
Norine dried her eyes. "What would you do if you were alone? Would
you dare try it?"
He hesitated, then confessed, "I think I would, but--"
"Is there an even chance of our getting across?"
"Perhaps. It all depends upon the weather."
"Can't we--build a boat?"
He shook his head. "Even if we had lumber and tools it would take
too long. Ten miles to the east there are Spaniards. We must do
one thing or the other quickly, before they learn we're here."
"Then let's go on. I'm sure Rosa will agree."
Rosa did agree. When her husband put the question fairly to her
she showed by the pallor of her cheeks and by the rekindling light
of terror in her eyes how desperately she feared remaining longer
in this land of hate and persecution.
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