Mr. Rodd died peacefully that evening, and on the following afternoon
they buried him, Francisco performing the service. Three more days
passed before Leonard had any conversation with Juanna, who moved about
the place, pale, self-contained, and silent. Nor would he have spoken to
her then had she not taken the initiative.
"Mr. Outram," she said, "when do you propose to start upon this
journey?"
"Really, I do not know. I am not sure that I shall start at all. It
depends upon you. You see I am responsible for you now, and I can
scarcely reconcile it with my conscience to take on you such a
wild-goose chase."
"Please do not talk like that," she answered. "If it will simplify
matters I may as well tell you at once that I have made up my mind to
go."
"You cannot unless I go too," he answered smiling.
"You are wrong there," Juanna replied defiantly. "I can, and what is
more, I will, and Soa shall guide me. It is you who cannot go without
me--that is, if Soa tells the truth.
"For good or evil we are yoked together in this matter, Mr. Outram, so
it is useless for us to try to pull different ways. Before he died, my
dear father told you his views plainly, and even if there were no other
considerations involved, such as that of the agreement--for, whatever
you may think to the contrary, woman have some sense of honour, Mr.
Outram--I would not disregard his wishes. Besides, what else are we to
do? We are both adventurers now, and both penniless, or pretty
nearly so.
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