During dinner, which occurred at noon, there were fewer words that day,
and with somewhat more reflection than was usual. The store of
provisions now rapidly disappearing, together with no prospect of
immediate escape, furnished rich material for thought. Both knew the
raft might prove a treacherous reliance. Instead of landing them on the
opposite bank of the river there were excellent chances of its carrying
them out to sea. And the prevailing westerly wind was almost sure to
drive them backward to the east again. Pats had been all over this so
many times in his own mind, and with Elinor, that the subject was pretty
well exhausted. But still, from habit, he speculated.
"A penny for your thoughts."
He raised his eyes, and as they met her own his habitual cheerfulness
returned. "My thoughts are worth more than that, for I was thinking of
you."
"Something bad?"
"I was wondering how many days you could foot it through the wilderness
before giving out."
"For ever, little Patsy, if you were with me."
"Then we have nothing to fear. We can both march on for ever. You are
not only food and drink to me,--that is, the equivalent of corncake,
potatoes, marmalade, and claret,--but your presence is life and strength
and a spiritual tonic."
"That is a good sentiment," and she reached forth a hand, which he took.
"Merely to look at you," he continued, "will be exhilarating on a long
march. And to hear your voice, and touch you--why, my soul becomes drunk
in thinking of it."
"Then you expect to be in a state of intoxication during the whole
journey?"
"That is my hope."
It happened, a few minutes later, that she herself became preoccupied,
her eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the little portrait on the opposite
chair.
"A dollar for your thoughts."
"Why so much?"
"Because any thought of yours," said Pats, "is worth at least a dollar."
"Thanks."
"You are thinking, as usual, of that woman. The woman who has my place."
"It is _her_ place; she had it before we came."
"But you ought to be looking at _me_ all this time. I am the person
for you to think about. I shall end by hating the woman."
"Oh, you mustn't be jealous. You _can't_ hate her. Such a gentle
face! And then all the mystery that goes with her! I would give anything
to know who she was."