achieve
distinction in the artistic career which she had mapped out for
herself. So the super-Alpine glories surrounding that inland sea, and
the prismatic hues flashing from many a glacier and rainbow of cataract
mist, left her unmoved, solely because the rough-hewn Indian craft
bobbing by the side of the great ship called to mind the extraordinary
conditions under which she and all on board existed.

But she was hungry, and that was a saving sign. She guessed that many
of the men, after mounting watch until broad daylight, were asleep.
Others were at work below, as was testified by a subdued sound of
hammering, with the sharp clink of metal against metal. Walker was
tinkering at the engines. With him, in all likelihood, were the
captain and Tollemache. She and Suarez were the drones of the ship,
and Suarez, poor fellow, had earned an idle hour if only on account of
the scrubbing he had given himself to wash away the tokens of five
years of slavery.

Before going in search of the cook, she walked a few steps towards the
bridge. At the top of the companion she saw Joey, sitting
disconsolately on his tail, a sure indication that Courtenay was
occupied in depths approachable only by steep iron ladders whither the
dog could not follow.

She whistled softly to her little friend, knowing that Christobal, and
perhaps Mr. Boyle, would be on the bridge, keeping the lookout, and she
was not inclined for talk at the moment. The doctor would have
understood at once that the girl was below par, owing to the strain of
the preceding days, and the lethargic rest which exhaustion had imposed
on her. Yet, there are times when science does not satisfy. . . .

But Joey, who recked naught of philosophy, and to whom the alarms and
excursions of fights on deck came as a touch of mother earth to the
sole of Antaeos--Joey, then, sprang down the stairs, barking joyously,
and leaped into her outstretched arms.

He honored no other person on board, except his master, with such
extravagant friendship, and, as the girl carried him aft to the cook's
galley, she asked herself why the dog had taken such a liking to her.

She blushed a little as she thought:

"It may be that I resemble the lady whom Captain Courtenay is going to
marry. I wonder why he did not show us her photograph that day when
Isobel and I visited his cabin and looked at the pictures of his mother
and sister. I should like to see her, but how can I manage it? I
s