His voice, with its tones of
brief imperious command, the proud carriage of his head, the easy grace
of his rapid movements, all proclaimed the man born to rule over his
fellow-men. And it is these master spirits, these born rulers, whom
women instinctively recognise as their sovereign lords, and for whom
women count no sacrifice too costly.
In the midst of his activity Montesma suddenly saw that white-robed
figure standing at the top of the companion, and flew to her side. The
boat was pitching heavily, dipping into the trough of the sea at an
angle of forty-five degrees, as it seemed to Lesbia.
'You ought not to be here,' said Montesma; 'it is much rougher than I
expected.'
'I am not afraid,' she answered; 'but I will go back to my cabin if I am
in your way.'
'In my way' (with deepest tenderness): 'yes, you are in my way, for I
shall think of nothing else now you are here. But I believe we have done
all that need be done to the yacht, and I can take care of you till the
storm is over.'
He put his arm round her as the stem dipped, and led her towards the
stern, guiding her footsteps, supporting her as her light figure swayed
against him with the motion of the boat.
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