romance."

Fearing that she might utter something regrettable, she flew down the port
passage and entered her cabin, where she remained until dinner. She spent
the intervening hours endeavouring to analyze the cause of her temper, but
the cause was as elusive as quicksilver. Why should she trust Cunningham?
What was the basis of this trust? He had, as Denny said, broken the law of
the sea. Was there a bit of black sheep in her, and was the man calling to
it? And this perversity of hers might create an estrangement between her
and Denny; she must not let that happen. The singular beauty of the man's
face, his amazing career, and his pathetic deformity--was that it?

* * * * *

"Where's the captain?" asked Cunningham, curiously, as he noted the vacant
chair at the table that night.

"On deck, I suppose."

"Isn't he dining to-night?"--an accent of suspicion creeping into his
voice. "He isn't contemplating making a fool of himself, is he? He'll get
hurt if he approaches the wireless."

"Togo," broke in Cleigh, "bring the avocats and the pineapple."

Cunningham turned upon him with a laugh.

"Cleigh, when I spin this yarn some day I'll carry you through it as the
man who never batted an eye. I can see now how you must have bluffed Wall
Street out of its boots."

When Cunningham saw that Jane was distrait he made no attempt to pull her
out of it. He ate his dinner, commenting only occasionally. Still, he bade
her a cheery good-night as he returned to the chart house, where he stayed
continually, never quite certain what old Captain Newton might do to the
wheel and the compass if left alone too long.

Dennison came in immediately after Cunningham's departure and contritely
apologized to Jane for his rudeness.

"I suppose I'm on the rack; nerves all raw; tearing me to pieces to sit
down and twiddle my thumbs. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course I will! I understand. You are all anxious about me.
Theoretically, this yacht is a volcano, and you're trying to keep me from
kicking off the lid. But I've an idea that the lid will stay on tightly if
we make believe we are Mr. Cunningham's guests. But it is almost
impossible to suspect that anything is wrong. Whenever a member of the
crew comes in sight he is properly polite, just as he would be on a liner.
If I do go to the bridge again I'll give you warning. Good-night, Mr.
Cleigh, I'll read to you in the morning. Good-night--Denny