After the five o'clock comida Kit went to Jefferson's office. There was no use in returning to Mrs. Austin's, because it was an evening she received her friends, and Olivia would be surrounded by the guests. Besides, he wanted to see Betty. He had not seen her yet, for when he went to the office she was occupied with Jefferson, and he did not know she had watched his arrival from the mole.

The room behind the arch was shady. A little cool breeze shook the curtain and one smelt heliotrope. Kit noted the smooth polished floor, the even rows of black boxes, and the neatly-sorted documents on the big writing table. Tidiness is not the rule in Spain, but all was neat where Betty was about. Betty herself wore a plain white dress, and Kit thought she looked cool and businesslike. Turning her revolving chair, she gave him her hand with a friendly smile.

"I was very glad to know you had got back," she said.

"If you had not sent Jefferson we might not have got back yet."

"I expect you have seen Mrs. Austin, but you mustn't exaggerate," Betty said calmly. "When you forced her to lend you Cayman, she knew she was doing what she ought."

"I imagined I forced her; now I doubt. She is kind and it looks as if I'm not as clever as I thought. Anyhow, I didn't force her to send the other boat; if force was needed, you did that. When the Lucia arrived we were worn out, but all the ballast must be brought off through the surf. It had been calm unusually long, we knew the wind would soon come, and if it blew fresh before we got the big anchor on board, Cayman would be wrecked. I hardly durst think about the job."

"You had a bad time, Kit?"

"Perhaps I got as good a time as I deserved. When I arrived from Liverpool I was very raw, but didn't know my rawness. People indulged me, and I went ahead, satisfied I could pull off all I undertook. I didn't know I was used and cheated; no doubt Wolf and Yusuf laughed! They'd got a dull, self-confident simpleton to play their crooked game. Well, in a way, perhaps, it was lucky I lost the men. I began to see my level."

Betty mused. She rather liked Kit's humiliation. Perhaps it was extravagant, for his rash return to Africa was very fine. Although his venture looked hopeless, he had gone. The strange thing was, when at length he saw Wolf had cheated him, he did not see another had done so. Betty wanted to warn him, but knew she must not.

"You were sincere and nothing you did was shabby," she said. "Perhaps your luck was bad, but this is not important. You didn't think about yourself; you were not daunted – "

"I was daunted," Kit declared. "When I landed from Cayman and started for the desert with three or four sailors, I wanted to run back to the boats. You see, the thing was ridiculous. All my fine romantic plans had led to this. However, we'll let it go. You're staunch and you helped me out. Now, when I'm hipped and moody you let me talk. I doubt if you know what a very good sort you are."

Betty gave him a level glance. She was moved and calm was rather hard, but calm was plainly indicated.

"Come in again when I'm not engaged, because I must send you off," she said. "Jefferson goes to Orotava with Mrs. Jefferson in the morning and some accounts must be made up before he starts." She paused and added: "I think Mrs. Austin and Miss Brown mean to join Mrs. Jefferson."

Kit went off. It was strange, but Betty's news was something of a relief. After all, if he did not see Olivia in the morning, he need not, for some time, resign himself to her refusal. She would, no doubt, refuse him, and he wondered whether his shrinking from the jolt accounted for his moodiness. Perhaps the moodiness was not logical, but he was moody. It would have been much better had Betty not refused him at Liverpool. Betty was his sort and had she loved him he would not have been carried away by Olivia. Of course, Betty was justified; she knew his drawbacks, but from Olivia's point of view, he had others. But in spite of this, after his rash talk in the alameda, he must ask her to marry him. Mrs. Austin knew he was going to do so, and she had smiled.

In the morning he was forced to go to the office, and when Don Ramon sent him off he saw the correillo start for Teneriffe. A clerk told him Mrs. Austin and Miss Brown were on board, but a few days afterwards Kit thought his luck was good. Mossamedes' cargo arrived slowly and Don Ramon resolved to send a schooner to Orotava for a load. Kit got leave to go, and one evening landed on the lava mole.

The evening was calm and light mist floated about the shoulders of the Peak. The long swell broke in sheets of foam, but its beat was slow and languid echoes rolled about the valley. One smelt oleanders and orange flowers. When Kit went up the path to the hotel his look was thoughtful. He wondered whether Mrs. Austin had an object for leaving Las Palmas; but he was going to see Olivia. To know he was refused was better than suspense. Anyhow, he must ask her in proper form, and she must decide. If she would not frankly acknowledge him her lover, she must let him go.

His luck held good, for he found her on a bench behind a tall geranium hedge. Olivia wore a black evening dress with yellow bands, and in the background the red geraniums shone. Kit knew she liked colour, but somehow he was jarred. Olivia was strangely beautiful; one could not see her a poor man's wife.

She looked up and a touch of red came to her skin. Kit thought her surprised and perhaps a little startled, but this was all. He himself was very sober and looked rather grim.

"Kit!" she said. "When did you arrive?"

"I landed not long since from a schooner. The company sent me to buy onions."

Olivia laughed. "You are dreadfully unromantic, but perhaps you thought you had better state your object! Have you bought the onions?"

"Not yet. I wanted to see you first. Sometimes I am romantic. It might be better if I were not."

"Well, perhaps romance cheats one now and then," Olivia rejoined, smiling. "But we won't philosophise. If you had arrived two or three minutes since, you would have seen Jacinta."

"I saw Mrs. Austin the afternoon before you sailed," said Kit. "I told her I was going to ask if you would marry me."

Olivia turned, rather quickly, and gave him a level glance. "Oh, well! I knew your pluck. But what did Jacinta remark?"

"She laughed," Kit replied with some dryness. "Nevertheless, she declared if you were willing – "

"Jacinta is not often rash. I expect you doubted my willingness, but after your extravagant talk in the alameda, you felt you ought to ask."

Kit coloured, but his mouth was rather hard and his look was steady. "I did feel something like that. In the alameda you were amused and your amusement hurt. I was carried away, but I wanted you. Well, I said if I brought back the men and got another post – I did bring back the men and have got a better post."

Olivia stopped him, but her look was gentler. "Your venture was very fine, Kit. I was proud of you, and if anything could have moved me – But I'm not your sort."

"You are the most beautiful girl I have known," Kit declared.

"Yet you're a Puritan and ought to know beauty isn't all; I think you really do know. Well, I won't marry you, Kit. We would risk too much. People think me romantic, but I'm not. In fact, I'm cold and very practical. It looks as if we had changed parts and you were the sentimentalist."

"I loved you," Kit said quietly.

"I know," Olivia admitted. "It counted for much. Perhaps I liked you to love me; I own I'm selfish. But your poverty wasn't altogether the drawback. You're sober and quiet; I'm theatrical. I like the middle of the stage; I want colour, movement, and the leading part. It's plain that we would jar."

Kit frowned. He saw Olivia was firm, and saw, rather vaguely, that her firmness was wise. In a sense, she was theatrical. Red geraniums, oleanders and scented orange flowers were her proper background. Olivia belonged to the South. Perhaps it was strange, but he pictured Betty in her neat, cool office. Betty wore white clothes, sometimes with a touch of the soft virgin blue. She stood for the reserve and staunchness of the bracing North. But he had asked Olivia to marry him.

"If you were persuaded we would jar – " he said and stopped.

Olivia smiled, but her smile was kind. "You are trying to be nice, but you want to know why I let you go on? Well, you were a new type. You were fresh and sincere, and sometimes very obstinate. The others indulged me; you did not. You had qualities I liked; perhaps because they were not mine. Then romance called and sometimes I began to think I might take the plunge, but I hesitated. I valued all I must give up and I have not your pluck – "

She paused and gave Kit a quiet glance. "Well, I'm sorry, but you ought to be grateful I was not rash. Although you're a very good sort, you are not my sort. I could not use your rules, and you would not use mine. You must let me go and marry somebody brave and honest – "

She got up and Kit heard steps on the path.

"Some of the people from the hotel," she said. "Will you come and see Jacinta?"

"I think not," Kit replied and forced a smile. "My business is to buy onions and I must get to work."

Olivia gave him her hand. "Perhaps I was shabby. In all you do, I wish you good luck!"

She went to meet the others, and Kit went down the path. He was hurt, but he had braced himself beforehand, and the hurt was less than he had thought. Moreover, he knew Olivia's arguments were good. He loaded the schooner and soon after he returned to Las Palmas Jefferson came to look for him on board Mossamedes.

"If you're not altogether satisfied with the post Don Arturo gave you, another could be got," he said. "A Spanish company is going to run two or three small, fast boats to the islands and wants an agent. I've been asked to find out if you would undertake the duties?"

"I'm not a Spaniard," Kit replied. "Why do they offer me the job?"

"I rather think it is a reward. In Spain, government approval pays, and perhaps the new company got a hint. It's possible the Las Palmas officials feel they owe you something, but can't openly acknowledge your services. However, I'd better state the duties and pay."

When Kit knew the pay he lighted a cigarette and pondered. Then he said, "The offer's good, but I can't take the post. For one thing, I've engaged to go to Cuba for Don Arturo."

"The office would release you."

"I think that is so," Kit agreed. "All the same, I undertook the job; and there's another thing. I'm young and begin to see I'm rawer than I thought. In fact, I've begun to know my proper level and where I really belong. Not long since I got a nasty knock and for a time I'm going slow. Perhaps I may go higher, but when my chance comes I mean to be fit for the better job."

Jefferson nodded. "On the whole, I reckon your plan is good, and we'll let the agency offer go." He paused and resumed: "You were across at Teneriffe. Did you make Orotava?"

"I did," said Kit, with a smile. "I saw Miss Brown and asked her to marry me. She would not, but now I can think about it calmly, I see she took a very proper line."

Jefferson said nothing, and soon afterwards went to his boat. For all that, he approved Kit's philosophy. Musgrave could take a knock and was good stuff. Jefferson thought the head of the line knew his value, and Kit would presently find his sticking to the post he took would pay.

CHAPTER XI
DAYBREAK

Mossamedes sailed from Cuba for Buenos Ayres, and on the ocean voyage Kit enjoyed more leisure than he had known for long. When the sea was calm and the ship steamed steadily across the shining swell, he lounged under the awnings and gave himself to thought. Perhaps it was strange, but he began to see that at Las Palmas he had hardly thought at all. Events, so to speak, had followed each other fast; he had let himself go and was carried along.

Now he could ponder quietly, he sometimes frowned. He had not done much that he had meant to do and had no grounds for satisfaction, but when he thought about Olivia he was calm. Olivia did not belong to his circle, and he now admitted that he could not enter hers. Even if he became rich, the thing was impossible. She liked, and in fact demanded, excitement, power, and a leading part; he liked to go soberly and do something useful. When she refused him she took the proper line, and he owed her and Mrs. Austin much. They had given him a wider view and helped him to conquer his aggressive priggishness. Then perhaps he had captured something of their cultivation; anyhow they had taught him to tolerate people who jarred.

For the most part, however, his thoughts dwelt on Betty; Betty in the primrose wood and in the shady office with the blue curtains. Betty was sober and quiet; when one was with her, one's mean ambitions vanished. Yet she was hopeful and never daunted. She looked ahead with steady eyes and held fast to all she knew was good. Like Olivia, she had refused him, but while he was resigned to Olivia's refusal, he knew he was a fool to let Betty go. Sometimes he wondered – ; and then got up impatiently and went off to study his manifests. There was no use in brooding, and he durst not look forward yet. In the meantime, his job was to see all was ready for unloading cargo when Mossamedes reached port.

At Buenos Ayres, he and Don Erminio stopped one hot afternoon in front of an Italian café in a quiet square. Small tables occupied the pavement in the shade, and Don Erminio ordering wine and ice and aerated waters, mixed them in a bowl.

"It is not like tinto granadilla and snow from the Peak when one has eaten much salt fish," he said. "However, to a seaman, all wine is good, and if Don Pedro were with us we would dance. But let us be happy, and if I go to sleep you will carry me on board."

Kit was satisfied Macallister had not joined them. He was strenuously occupied scaling the boilers, and when Kit left Mossamedes strange bi-lingual threats and exclamations echoed about her stokehold. By and by Don Erminio began to glance about.

"Vaya!" he said. "Look at him! Now perhaps we can amuse ourselves. I will talk to the animal."

He got up, and carrying the bowl of wine, crossed the pavement. A man in white clothes occupied a chair at another table, and when he looked up Kit saw it was Captain Revillon. Kit had noted a small French cruiser at anchor in the roads.

"Ola, señor! All sailors are friends," said Don Erminio. "Besides, this bowl is large and my companion is sober and very dull. The wine is not Spanish, but it will go, and when I drink your wormwood, in the morning my throat is bad."

Revillon bowed and let him fill his glass, and Don Erminio resumed in uncouth French: "We took you, my friend, that time on the Morocco coast!"

"It looks like that," Revillon replied, with a touch of dryness. "Still I do not see why you risked crossing the shoals. You had, no doubt, thrown the guns overboard."

Don Erminio indicated Kit, who had joined him. "He is a boy, but very obstinate. The English are obstinate and the Scots are worse. Me, I know. Well, his bargain was to land the guns, and they were landed."

"Then, I think you did take me," Revillon remarked with a quick, surprised glance. "Had I known – "

Kit was intrigued. He had sometimes wondered why Revillon had not looked for Mossamedes in the morning. The coast was dangerous and the gale was fresh, but he had thought this did not account for all.

"The animal who loaded the ship sold us," said Don Erminio. "If you paid him, you did not get much for your money."

Revillon drained his glass and smiled. "Your betrayer did not demand a large reward; perhaps he expected to be paid in another way. However, now it is done with, I may tell you something. To begin with I did not trust Señor Wolf, although I knew the guns were on board and must not be landed. To force you to throw them overboard would satisfy me."

"Was it not your duty to stop and search our ship?" Kit asked.

"In a sense, it was so. In fact, I think the man who sold you expected me to seize her," Revillon agreed with some dryness. "Well, I followed you and steered a course that would pin you against the shoals. I had studied the chart and pilot book, and nothing indicated that a vessel could get across." He paused and shrugged. "Well, what would you have? I imagined the guns were overboard and you had run aground. My duty was not to wreck my ship. I hauled off the coast."

"They have given you a larger vessel!" Don Erminio remarked meaningly. "I wish you luck. All sailors are honest, but not many are discreet. The politicians are animals, and I would drown the lot. Well, it is not important now, and the wine is gone."

Kit began to understand. Revillon had not been cheated; he was not very keen about seizing Mossamedes. It looked as if Wolf had engaged in dark political intrigue, and meant to use the French officer in his plot. Revillon, however, had seen his object. But the thing was done with, and Kit went off to the office of a merchant who was loading Mossamedes with grain.

When her cargo was on board she sailed for Teneriffe, and anchored at Santa Cruz to land a few barge-loads. Kit, going to the agent's in the evening, met Jefferson in the plaza.

"Mrs. Jefferson and Miss Jordan are at the Golden Pine," he said. "They went to Laguna for a holiday and I came over to bring them back. Will you walk up to the hotel with me?"

Kit wanted to go, but said he could not: Mossamedes would start for Las Palmas when they had landed another load of maize. Santa Cruz, sheltered by the volcanic range that cuts off the Trade-breeze, was very hot, and he asked why Mrs. Jefferson had left Laguna, which occupies a cool tableland behind the town.

"We meant to go back on board Campeador this morning," Jefferson replied. "The company, however, have altered the sailing bill, and Don Maccario doesn't expect the boat to arrive for some days."

"If Mrs. Jefferson can get ready soon, we'll take you across," said Kit. "We ought to make Las Palmas about daybreak and can give you good rooms on deck."

Jefferson agreed and an hour afterwards his party arrived. Kit's boat was waiting at the mole, and when they got on board, Mossamedes went to sea. For some time Kit was occupied with his dispatch box, but as soon as he had sorted his manifests he went on deck.

There was no moon, the sea was phosphorescent, and the wind was light. Mossamedes rolled languidly and the foam that ran back from her bows sparkled green and gold. Mrs. Jefferson, Jefferson and Don Erminio occupied canvas chairs on the upper deck, but at first Kit could not find Betty. Then he saw a white dress in the gloom by a boat and heard Macallister's voice. Kit turned back and Betty laughed. He thought her laugh had a note of protest and wondered what Macallister had said.

"You must really stop!" Betty exclaimed.

Macallister's reply was not distinct, but Kit heard part: "Weel, it's for your ain good. Maybe ye might get better, but ye might get waur – "

"I'm going," said Betty firmly, and light steps indicated that she left the boat.

Kit, meeting her across the deck, thought her embarrassed and when they joined the others she did not talk much. He, however, was satisfied to sit on the deck and smoke, knowing Betty was about. After a time Macallister returned and leaned against the rails. He chuckled and Kit noted that Betty did not look up.

"We're a humorous lot, though a' o' us dinna see the joke," he said. "Noo I'm getting old I look on and laugh. When ye meddle ye get no thanks. For a' that, philosophy is sometimes hard. Ye meet folks who dinna ken their luck."

"It's possible, but I don't see where your remarks lead," Mrs. Jefferson rejoined and turned to the captain. "Do you see?"

"I am a sailor," said Don Erminio. "Sailors are not philosophers. They are honest people and some are fools. If they were not fools, they would not go to sea. But perhaps it is better to be a fool than an animal like the men who own the ships."

Mrs. Jefferson laughed, and they talked about something else until she got up and glanced at Betty, who went with her to her room by the bridge. When the others went off Kit stopped and smoked. Betty had kept close to Mrs. Jefferson; it looked as if she did not mean to be left alone with him.

At daybreak he went on deck. There was not much wind, and Mossamedes went steadily through the dim blue water. Her mastheads swung, but one felt no motion; the engines throbbed with an even rhythm. To starboard, dark rocks pierced a bank of mist; ahead a thicker bank indicated the Isleta hill and Kit looked at his watch. It was six o'clock. In half an hour Mossamedes would steam into the harbour, and his chance of talking to Betty would be gone.

Kit wanted to talk to Betty, but was daunted. On the ocean voyage, he had seen a light. Perhaps it was strange, but he knew now the light had begun to burn one April day in the primrose wood; and then, for a time, he had lost it, because Olivia had dazzled him. Betty knew. He thought she knew all his follies, but she was kind.

Coming down from the bridge, he saw her by the rail. Her look was thoughtful; her brows were knit and putting her hand on a stanchion, she fixed her eyes ahead.

The mist was thinner and the sky above it began to gleam like an opal. Soon the haze would roll back and the sun leap up. Kit advanced quietly, but Betty turned as if she knew his step. Somehow Kit knew she had been thinking about him. A touch of colour came to his skin and his heart beat, but he was calm. When one talked to Betty, one was not moved by strange, disturbing thrills; she did not dazzle one. Her light was clear and steady, and Kit knew it had after all been his guide.

"Betty," he said, "why did you refuse me at Liverpool?"

She gave him a quick glance, and for a moment turned her head. When she looked up her colour was rather high.

"We were very young, Kit."

"You mean, I was very young and rashly confident. You don't think about yourself. It was for my sake you let me go."

"Aren't you taking something for granted?"

"I think not," said Kit. "I'm dull, but sometimes I do understand, and I now see all I lost. You wanted me to have my chance; you thought to be tied to you might keep me back? Yet I believe you loved me. Let's be frank!"

"Suppose I did love you?" said Betty, with a blush, although her voice was quiet.

"To begin with, you know how I used my freedom; you know my ridiculous ambitions."

"You mean you were ridiculous when you fell in love with Olivia Brown?"

"Yes," said Kit. "Anyhow, it was ridiculous for me to imagine I could marry her."

Betty gave him a keen glance, for she was human. She liked Kit's staunchness, but nevertheless sometimes it jarred.

"Nevertheless you did not feel you were ridiculous, when you thought you could marry me!"

"I was a fool. My wanting you was all the sense I had. The strange thing was, from the beginning you were my guide, and I tried to use your rules. When I lost the men in Africa, I went back to look for them because I felt you would have me go. I was accountable, the job was mine, but I would not have known this had I not known you. It was like that before and afterwards – "

Betty was moved, but she thought Kit was not altogether just to himself. His honesty was instinctive, and he paid his debts.

"But that's not all," he resumed. "At Liverpool you sometimes puzzled me. You saw and followed a light I did not. Once when I talked about climbing above the crowd, you said perhaps one need not climb. One ought to stop at one's proper level, and try to make things better. Well, when the Spaniards offered me a good post, I remembered. I'd had enough of shabby ambitions and knew my level. In fact, so to speak, the light was breaking."

He was quiet for a few moments and looked about, knitting his brows. The surf was louder, the sky was red, and the mists glimmered, as if a glow shone through. Betty waited and said nothing. She had waited long, but Kit had returned to her.

"I was a fool," he broke out. "But you know all, dear, and are very kind. Somehow I think you will take me back."

Betty gave him a gentle smile. "It looks as if I had never quite let you go."

Kit took her in his arms and when he looked up a warm beam touched them and moved across the deck. The mists were rolling back, day had broken and all ahead was bright.