d was in the act of
locking it, when the yacht's screw ceased to throb. The _Bella Cuba_ had
stopped. Orders were being shouted up above; and then came a grinding
sound as the anchor was slowly dropped. The Countess de Mattos knew that
they must be in the harbour of Samoa. She flung open the door of her
cabin and stepped out into the saloon. There sat George Trent, who, as
she appeared, looked up from a book which he was reading, or seemed to
read.

"Good morning, Countess," he said coolly, rising and flinging away his
book. "I'm glad you're better, but I don't think, now I see you in the
light, that you look well enough to be out."

"I was never ill," she answered haughtily--for Virginia Beverly's brother
could only be an enemy.

"It's mighty brave of you to try and keep up like this," said George,
"but that was a bad attack of yours the other night. I can see you're not
fit yet. You'd better go back and lie down while we coal. The blacks will
be flying around, you know, and you'll get them in your lungs."

"Let me pass," exclaimed the Countess, making a rush to push by him and
reach the companionway.

"I'd do a good deal for you, Countess, but I can't do that," retorted
George. "It's against the doctor's orders."

"How dare you!" she panted. "Oh, you shall suffer for this!"

"All I'm worried about now is that _you_ don't suffer. You really mustn't
excite yourself. It's not good, you know. It's as much as my place is
worth to let you upstairs. I expect it would be the best thing for your
health to go and lie down, but if you won't do that, why, I'll try and
entertain you here as well as I can."

The beautiful woman looked the tall young man full in the eyes, hers
dilated and burning with the impotent fury in her soul. She was wise
enough to see that he was not to be beguiled. If he, like other men, had
his price, nothing that she could offer would pay it. He did not mean to
let her go up on deck, and it would be as useless as undignified to
attempt carrying out her will with a high hand. If there were any hope,
it was in stratagem. Without breaking another lance against the
impenetrable armour of his obstinacy, she turned her back upon him, swept
into her cabin, and shut the door. Having done so--her little bag still
grasped in her hand--she flew to the porthole and peered out. If a boat
had been passing, or a ship at anchor visible near by, she would have
screamed for help; but nothing promising was to be see