the ship, to fly from the spell of his personality. Thoughts of
him made her writhe, and yet when he was near she could not hate
him as she willed--he overpowered her, he would not be hated, he
paid no heed to her slights. This very quality reminded her how
willingly and unquestioningly he had fought off the sailors from
the Ohio at a word from her. She knew he would do so again, and
more, and it is hard to be bitter to one who would lay down his
life for you, even though he has offended--particularly when he
has the magnetism that sweeps you away from your moorings.

"There's no danger of being seen," he continued, "The crowd's
crazy, and, besides, we'll go ashore right away. You must be mad
with the confinement--it's on my nerves, too."

As they stepped outside, the door of an adjacent cabin opened,
framing an angular, sharp-featured woman, who, catching sight of
the girl emerging from Glenister's state-room, paused with
shrewdly narrowed eyes, flashing quick, malicious glances from one
to the other. They came later to remember with regret this chance
encounter, for it was fraught with grave results for them both.

"Good evening, Mr. Glenister," the lady said with acid cordiality.

"Howdy, Mrs. Champian?" He moved away.

She followed a step, staring at Helen.

"Are you going ashore to-night or wait for morning?"

"Don't know yet, I'm sure." Then aside to the girl he muttered,