atured male passenger, however,
volunteered to ask us, 'Will I get ye a rug, ladies?' The form of his
courteous question suggested the probability of his Irish origin.

'You are very kind,' I answered. 'If you don't want it for yourself, I'm
sure my friend would be glad to have the use of it.'

'Is it meself? Sure I've got me big ulsther, and I'm as warrum as a
toast in it. But ye're not provided for this weather. Ye've thrusted too
much to those rascals the po-uts. 'Where breaks the blue Sicilian say,'
the rogues write. _I'd_ like to set them down in it, wid a nor'-easter
blowing!'

He fetched up his rug. It was ample and soft, a smooth brown camel-hair.
He wrapped us both up in it. We sat late on deck that night, as warm as
a toast ourselves, thanks to our genial Irishman.

[Illustration: 'TIS DOCTOR MACLOGHLEN, HE ANSWERED.]

We asked his name. ''Tis Dr. Macloghlen,' he answered. 'I'm from County
Clare, ye see; and I'm on me way to Egypt for thravel and exploration.
Me fader whisht me to see the worruld a bit before I'd settle down to
practise me profession at Liscannor. Have ye ever been in County Clare?
Sure, 'tis the pick of Oireland.'

'We have that pleasure still in store,' I answered, smiling. 'It spreads
gold-leaf over the future, as George Meredith puts it.'

'Is it Meredith? Ah, there's the foine writer! 'Tis jaynius the man has:
I can't undtherstand a word of him. But he's half Oirish, ye know. What
proof have I got of it? An' would he write like that if there wasn't a
dhrop of the blood of the Celt in him?'

Next day and next night, Mr. Macloghlen was our devoted slave. I had won
his heart by admitting frankly that his countrywomen had the finest and
liveliest eyes in Europe--eyes with a deep twinkle, half fun, half
passion. He took to us at once, and talked to us incessantly. He was a
red-haired, raw-boned Munster-man, but a real good fellow. We forgot the
aggressive inequalities of the Mediterranean while he talked to us of
'the pizzantry.' Late the second evening he propounded a confidence. It
was a lovely night; Orion overhead, and the plashing phosphorescence on
the water below conspired with the hour to make him specially
confidential. 'Now, Miss Cayley,' he said, leaning forward on his deck
chair, and gazing earnestly into my eyes, 'there's wan question I'd like
to ask ye. The ambition of me life is to get into Parlimint. And I want
to know from ye, as a frind--if I accomplish me heart's wis