he door.

"Who is it?" she stammered at last.

"The Captain," said a stern voice, and in the glass she saw her cheeks
and lips become pale. What on earth could be wrong? Was the ship on
fire, or wrecked? Had their last hour come?

"I am sorry to bother you, but will you please open the door for a
moment?"

By a great effort she composed herself and did as she was bid. A
little group of people with strained faces and staring eyes presented
themselves behind the Captain; she recognized several men, the
stewardesses, and Mrs. Stanislaw; while in the shadows beyond them was
whispering and much shuffling. The whole ship seemed to be afoot.
Captain Carey gave one swift look round the cabin, then his eyes rested
on her startled face, and he patted her arm gently and reassuringly.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear Lady Diana," he said, in his tender, Irish
voice, from which all sternness had vanished. "It is only that we are
looking for Miss Poole, and we thought that possibly she might be in
here with you."

"Miss Poole!"

The girl's face stiffened and blanched. She put out a hand to support
herself against the dressing-table. The Captain signed to a
stewardess, and the little crowd moved away. There was loud knocking
on another door.

"Why are they searching? . . ."

The stewardess patted her arm, even as the Captain had done, but being
a simple woman, she spoke simply, and without waste of words.

"There is a fear that she is not on the ship."

"Not on the ship!" whispered April. "But where else could she be?
What other place? . . ."

Then she understood. There was no other place. . . . Her knees
trembled, and the stewardess supported her to the sofa. She sat down
with chattering teeth, smitten by a great and bitter cold. Diana--the
sea . . . warm, merry, gay Diana in the cold sea!

"I don't believe it. It can't be true!"

"Mrs. Stanislaw had reason to think that she intended to commit suicide
tonight . . . and when she did not come to bed by two o'clock, she
thought it her duty to inform the Captain, who is, of course, bound to
search the ship."

"It can't be true. . . . I don't believe it," repeated April
mechanically; but all the time her heart was in terror, remembering
Diana's pale looks and the news she had heard tonight of Bellew's
marriage. Had he told Diana, then . . . and was this the result? All
at once it became impossible to sit still any longer. She must know
the truth. She jum