side, while he broaches the matter to her. And this he did with some
difficulty (for 'tis no easy thing to make a roguish plot look
innocent), as we could see by his shifting his bundle from one shoulder
to the other now and again, scratching his ear and the like; but what he
said, we, walking a pace or two behind, could not catch, he dropping to
a very low tone as if ashamed to hear his own voice. To all he has to
tell she listens very attentively, but in the end she says something
which causes him to stop dead short and turn upon her gaping like a pig.

"What!" he cries as we came up. "You knew all this two months ago?"

"Yes, father," answers she, primly, "quite two months."

"And pray who told you?" he asks.

"No one, father, since you forbade me to ask questions. But though I may
be dumb to oblige you, I can't be deaf. Kit and you are for ever
a-talking of it."

"Maybe, child," says Dawson, mightily nettled. "Maybe you know why we
left Alicante this morning."

"I should be dull indeed if I didn't," answers she. "And if you hadn't
said when we saw the ships that we might meet more Englishmen in the
town than we might care to know hereafter, why,--well, maybe we should
have been in Alicante now."

"By denying yourself that satisfaction," says Don Sanchez, "we may
conclude that the future we are making for you is not unacceptable."