e
working with emotion, to tell glad news. The passengers of the injured
ship had been transferred to the C--, but the crew remained at their
posts, for the water-tight compartments were bravely doing their work,
and there was hope of keeping her afloat until Bombay Harbour could be
reached. Meantime the rescuing vessel had her in tow.

"Shut your eyes, my beauty, and sleep!" said Nancy Mannering gently.
"He's off to his bed. I've seen him, and touched him, and heard his
voice. He's a real live man and no ghost, as to-morrow morning you'll
see for yourself, and if you ever say good-bye to him again,--well! you
deserve all you may get.--Go to sleep, child, go to sleep, and thank the
good God!"

But the next morning Katrine did not get up. She was prostrate with
physical collapse, and there was no mental effort to spur her into
action. She did not want to meet Bedford. Now that safety was assured,
it was torture to remember her own words, and to realise that the first
confession of love had come from her own lips, not his. She welcomed
the weariness and pain which kept her a prisoner in the cabin; dreaded
the meeting which must inevitably come. The dread and the shame, the
excitement and the distress, increased her physical ailments; the doctor
was summoned, once and again, before the day was over, and other methods
failing prescribed a sleeping-draught to secure a night's rest before
landing. As a result Katrine slept heavily, but awoke to so crushing a
headache that movement appeared out of the question.

No matter, Nancy Mannering assured her. It would be hours before the
ship had disgorged her double complement of passengers, to say nothing
of the luggage. She was to lie still, recover slowly, go on shore
quietly later on when the fuss and racket were over. The captain had
sent a special message to assure her of his consideration and help. Two
other women were prostrate like herself. They also were to wait.

Katrine settled down again into a fitful sleep, through which the tramp
of feet, the clamour of voices, the banging of luggage, beat confusedly
upon her brain. From time to time Mrs Mannering crept in to look at
her, and stole out unnoticed; it was not until late in the afternoon,
when quiet reigned on the deck overhead, that she met opened eyes and a
smile of welcome.

"I'm dreadfully lazy! I'm afraid it's ever so late, but I can dress
quickly now for my head is better. Is--?"

She stoppe