n for the moment.

Meanwhile, Virginia had spent the most heavenly half-hour of her life.
She had been so divinely happy that she had forgotten the danger ahead.
To sit beside Max Dalahaide, to meet his eyes, tragic no longer, but
bright with passionate gratitude; to know that he was out of danger, that
he would live, and owe his life to her and hers; to hear the thanks,
spoken stammeringly, but straight from his heart, filled her with an
ecstasy such as she had never known. It was akin to pain, and yet it was
worth dying for, just to have felt it once.

She was with him still when the yacht dropped anchor.

"This is Samoa?" he said, half rising on his elbow, and a quick flush
springing to his thin cheeks.

"Yes," Virginia answered. "But there is no danger. My cousin says they
will dare nothing. We shall have coaled in a couple of hours, and
then----"

At this moment a sound of voices came through the open porthole, which
was on the side of the yacht opposite to Manuela's.

Some one in a boat was calling to some one on the deck of the _Bella
Cuba_; and evidently the boat was near.

Virginia's sentence broke off. She forgot what she had been saying, and
sprang to her feet, her heart in her throat. It was the Marchese Loria's
voice that she had heard.

What could his presence here signify? Did it mean unexpected disaster?
Involuntarily her frightened glance went to Maxime's face. Their eyes
met. She saw in his that he, too, had recognized those once familiar
tones.

"I will go on deck," she said brokenly, trying to control her voice.
"I--when I can I will come back again. And--of course, Dr. Grayle, you
will stay here."

"You may trust me," said the little brown man, with meaning in his
words.

CHAPTER XIII

THE GAME OF BLUFF

Roger Broom had seen the boat coming from afar. Already the lighters were
alongside, and the process of coaling was about to begin. This would be
got through as soon as possible, and necessary provisions bought from the
boats plying from the town with fresh milk, butter, eggs, meat, fowls,
and green vegetables. But Roger knew well that, expedite their business
as they might, the _Bella Cuba_ would not steam out of the harbour
without a challenge from the law. The only shock of surprise he
experienced at sight of the official-looking little craft, making
straight for the yacht, was in recognizing the Marchese Loria, the last
man he had expected to see.

As he stood on deck