salt on my face; then as I rose and
fell like a cork on the waters, your face seemed to come before me, and
I determined to live."

"Beautiful," said Fraser, involuntarily.

"I determined to live," repeated Flower, glancing at him defiantly. "I
brushed the wet hair from my eyes, and strove to move my chilled limbs.
Then I shouted, and anything more dreary than that shout across the
waste of water I cannot imagine, but it did me good to hear my own
voice, and I shouted again."

He paused for breath, and Fraser, taking advantage of the pause, got up
hurriedly and left the room, muttering something about matches.

"He doesn't like to hear of your sufferings," said Poppy.

"I suppose not," said Flower, whose eloquence had received a chill, "but
there is little more to tell. I was picked up by a Russian brig bound
for Riga, and lay there some time in a state of fever. When I got better
I worked my passage home in a timber boat and landed yesterday."

"What a terrible experience," said Poppy, as Fraser entered the room
again.

"Shocking," said the latter.

"And now you've got your own ship again," said the girl, "weren't your
crew delighted to see you?"

"I've not seen them yet," said Flower, hesitatingly. "I shipped on
another craft this morning before the mast."

"Before the mast," repeated the girl, in amazement.

"Full-rigged ship _Golden Cloud_ bound for New Zealand," said Flower,
slowly, watching the effect of his words--"we're to be shipmates."

Poppy Tyrell started up with a faint cry, but Flower drew her gently
down again.

"We'll be married in New Zealand," he said, softly, "and then we'll
come back and I'll have my own again. Jack told me you were going out on
her. Another man has got my craft; he lost the one he had before, and
I want to give him a chance for a few months, poor chap, to redeem his
character. Besides, it'll be a change. We shall see the world. It'll
just be a splendid honeymoon."

"You didn't tell Captain Martin?" enquired the girl, as she drew back in
her chair and eyed him perplexedly.

"Not likely," said Flower, with a laugh. "I've shipped in the name of
Robert Orth. I bought the man's discharges this morning. He's lying in
bed, poor chap, waiting for his last now, and hoping it'll be marked 'v.
g.'"

Poppy was silent. For a moment her eyes, dark and inscrutable, met
Fraser's; then she looked away, and in a low voice addressed Flower.

"I suppose you know best what is to b