find our society dull."

The Count made a gesture, and then, after a word or two to the skipper,
the latter gave his men orders, and they took their places in the boat.

It was then that the Count's son, who had been very silent for some
time, looking at Rodd as if longing to speak, suddenly turned and
whispered something to his father, who replied with a comprehensive
gesture, and the lad immediately approached the doctor.

"It will be hours yet, sir, before it is dark, and I have so much I
should like to say to your nephew. Can he not stay till evening, and
then our boat shall bring him to your vessel? You will not," he
continued playfully, turning to Rodd, "be afraid of going down?"

"My nephew is at liberty to do as he pleases," replied the doctor
frankly. "What do you say, Rodd?"

"Oh, I want to stay, uncle. I should like to hear all about the
escape."

A few minutes later the two lads were leaning together over the rail
watching the departing boat, and chatting together as if they were old
schoolfellows who had met again after a long separation, Rodd delighted
with his companion, and disposed to feel disappointed in himself lest
the refined, polished young officer--one, evidently, of the _haute
noblesse_--should look down upon him as a rough, rather boorish young
Englishman.

Somehow that evening, with its rapid change from glowing sunset light to
purple violet darkness, seemed wonderfully quick in coming, and as the
brig's well-manned boat grazed against the schooner's stern and Rodd
turned in climbing up the side to hang by his left hand and extend his
right, the feeling of inferiority melted away in the young Frenchman's
warm grasp, as the latter said--

"I suppose we shall be sailing very slowly till we reach the shore, and
I want to see more of you. I shall come and fetch you first thing in
the morning. Don't say anything; you must come. _Au revoir_!"

The brig's boat pushed off as soon as Rodd had swung himself on deck,
and as it glided away into the soft darkness with the regularly handled
oars dipping up from the surface of the sea what seemed to be like so
much lambent liquid gold, suggesting to Rodd as he gazed after his new
friend that the stars might have been melting all day in the torrid sun,
and that this was their pale golden light floating upon the sea, a hand
was laid upon his shoulder.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE DOCTOR PAINTS PICTURES.

"Back again, then, Rodd!"

"Oh yes,