d blue of the sky
began. There was something about this sea she did not like. She was
North-born. It seemed to her that there was really less to fear from the
Atlantic fury than from these oily, ingratiating, rolling mounds. They
were the Uriah Heep of waters. She knew how terrible they could be, far
more terrible than the fiercest nor'easter down the Atlantic. Typhoon! How
could a yacht live through a hurricane? She turned again toward
Cunningham.

"You are like that," she said, irrelevantly.

"Like what?"

"Like the sea."

Cunningham rose and peered under the half-drawn blind.

"That may be complimentary, but hanged if I know! Smooth?--is that what
you mean?"

"Kind of terrible."

He sat down again.

"That rather cuts. I might be terrible. I don't know--never met the
occasion; but I do know that I'm not treacherous. You certainly are not
afraid of me."

"I don't exactly know. It's--it's too peaceful."

"To last? I see. But it isn't as though I were forcing you to go through
with the real voyage. Only a few days more, and you'll have seen the last
of me."

"I hope so."

He chuckled.

"What I meant was," she corrected, "that nothing might happen, nobody get
hurt. Human beings can plan only so far."

"That's true enough. Every programme is subject to immediate change. But,
Lord, what a lot of programmes go through per schedule! Still, you are
right. It all depends upon chance. We say a thing is cut and dried, but we
can't prove it. But so far as I can see into the future, nothing is going
to happen, nobody is going to walk the plank. Piracy on a basis of 2.75
per cent.--the kick gone out of it! But if you can bring about the
reconciliation of the Cleighs the old boy will not be so keen for chasing
me all over the map when this job is done."

"Will you tell me what those beads are?"

"To be sure I will--all in due time. What does Cleigh call them?"

"Love beads!" scornfully.

"On my solemn word, that's exactly what they are."

"Very well. But remember, you promise to tell me when the time comes."

"That and other surprising things."

"I'll be going."

"Come up as often as you like."

Cunningham accompanied her to the bridge ladder and remained until she was
speeding along the deck; then he returned to his chart. But the chart was
no longer able to hold his attention. So he levelled his gaze upon the
swinging horizon and kept it there for a time. Odd fancy, picturing the
girl on the bridge