Rose Orchid | Page 3

window; and there could be no mistake.
"Decidedly," thought the lieutenant-commander, "I'm in a devil of a hole. The wonder is I'm still alive."
Then he lay silent, feigning sleep, and overheard the following dialogue:
"Well, I must go," accompanied by a masculine sigh.
"But, Tota! I've been waiting for you to say that; I've seen it in your eyes. This is our holiday; you promised it."
"Now, little one, don't be unreasonable. How could I foretell the storm? And those hombres; you know what they're like. If it were not for the little trees--"
"Very well; then do you go. I shall not miss you; I shall amuse the stranger. I shall sing to him, and prepare for him the little yellow bisca, and perhaps--"
The voice ended with an indescribable tone of teasing sugges tion.
"Rita! What do you mean?"
There came the sound of feet scurrying across the floor, sigh, a little breathless laugh, then:
"Oh, Tota, my beloved! Well then, kiss me, kiss me! Ah!"
There was a pause, then the man's voice: "And now--"
"Now you may go. But I shall go with you to the spring. And I want--but come, I'll tell you on the way."
The lieutenant-commander heard them go out, leaving the door open behind them; and he opened his eyes and thought swiftly.
He understood at once that he had not been recognized; which was easily accounted for by the facts that he was in "civilians," and that in the past six months he had grown a beard. But there still remained some danger; and this position of insecurity and helplessness was extremely unpleasant. Decidedly, he must get away at the very first opportunity. The first thing to do was to find out about his pony. He would ask the girl when she returned.
Then, suddenly, the lieutenant-commander became aware of the fact that he felt exceedingly comfortable. Only his poncho, coat, and boots had been removed, he was covered only by a coarse cotton cloth, and there was a dull, aching pain in the injured arm from wrist to shoulder; still he felt unaccountably easy and contented.
The room, which he now noticed for the first time, though uncarpeted and with bare walls, had an indefinable air of coziness, even of refinement. The light entered with a soft glow at the window opposite, which he surmised to be toward the west; over the other window a green shade was drawn, to exclude the tropical sun.
Two or three wicker chairs, an American sewing machine, and a table or two were all the room contained; yet such was its effect that the lieutenant-commander, who had never noticed a mere room before in all his life, found himself studying it with interest and appreciation.
He was roused by the sound of approaching footsteps, and looked up to see the girl coming up the path toward the open door. In her arms was a huge bunch of rose orchids.
She entered the room silently and placing the flowers on a table, tiptoed to the side of the couch. Then seeing that the lieutenant-commander's eyes were wide open, she smiled brightly.
"Ah! The se–or is awake."
"Yes." In spite of himself, he smiled back at her
"Well! But you have slept a very long time. And the arm-- does it pain you greatly?"
She carefully drew back the coverlet, and the lieutenantcommander perceived for the first time that the sleeve of his shirt had been slit to the shoulder and his arm encased in rude splints and bandages.
"Why--I didn't know--" he said, "thanks to you, it is really comfortable."
"That is well. We did the best we could. Oh, but I was so frightened when the se–or tumbled in at the door! I thought you were dead. And Tota--Mr. Hurley--that is, my husband--he thought you would never--but oh!" She stopped short, and a look of real horror appeared on her face.
"What is it?" the lieutenant-commander asked in alarm.
"Why, the se–or must be starved!" she cried. "And here I stand and talk like an old woman."
She turned without another word and fled into the kitchen.
From thence, for the following fifteen minutes, there issued a series of most tantalizing sounds and smells. The lieutenantcommander had not realized it before, but he was hungry-- incredibly so.
"Will the se–or use the goat's milk?" Rita called from the kitchen.
"No; make it black, please," he replied.
He was served on the bamboo table, drawn up close to the couch. Rita, saying that she had work in the next room, instructed him to call if he needed anything. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she bent over the table and cut his meat into little squares, broke the hard bread into small pieces, and separated the sections of grapefruit, saying:
'Y forgot about the se–or's arm. Of course, you are helpless--like a baby."
Despite the difficulty of eating with one hand, he found the meal incredibly good. There