wasn't so sure
about the rest. "Mr. Storm!" she cried. "Mr. Storm!"

He was forced to turn. Mrs. Shuster beckoned. He came toward us, though
not with the long strides which had been leading him in another
direction. He took off his cap, bowed gravely, and murmured something
about having a man to meet.

(Jack was absent on leave, searching for some one to look at our
trunks.)

"Oh, Mr. Storm," said his guardian angel, "I wouldn't have missed you
for anything. But I was afraid you might have misunderstood my message.
I've sent for a very important man, a great friend of mine, to introduce
you to--Mr. Ed Caspian. He won't be long now. But when I mentioned Miss
Moore, the young lady on the ship, and pointed her out to him, he told
me the most dreadful news about her father. The poor man is absolutely
ruined and bankrupt and everything else that's bad; and here's this dear
child with trunkfuls of clothes and a motor car to pay duty on. Mr.
Caspian was _so_ interested when he saw her (that shows he's as
good-hearted as ever in spite of the newspapers!), and he's ready to do
anything to help, even to paying all the duties."

Half-forgotten gossip hopped into my mind like a toad. Somebody had
shown me a paragraph in a scandal-loving American paper about the
"change of heart" Ed Caspian had undergone with his change of purse.
"Oh, he can't be allowed to do anything of that sort for Miss Moore," I
said quickly. "Her father must have heaps of friends who--and anyhow,
_we_ shall look after her. I do hope Mr. Caspian isn't telling the poor
child about her father's troubles?"

"Well, he offered to break the news to her gently," confessed Mrs.
Shuster, looking guilty. "I told him she was so worried about Mr. Moore
not coming to the boat. I'm sure Mr. Caspian wouldn't say a word to
frighten her. He's as gentle as a fawn. I always found him so. And we'll
_all_ do things to help dear little Miss Moore. We'll club together; I'd
love to."

I hardly heard. Without a thought of answering I dashed off to the
rescue of Pat. But I was conscious, as I dashed, that the Ship's Mystery
had given me a look. Not a word had he spoken since Mrs. Shuster began
on the subject of Patsey Moore (not that he'd had a chance), but the
look was one which nobody, no matter how preoccupied, could _help_ being
conscious of--it was so brilliant and so strange.

On the way to Patsey I caught sight of Jack in the distance and diverged
to him. "I'll get hold