ented on his own yacht--a sudden chill ran through Mr.
Heatherbloom. This titled paragon refused by Miss Dalrymple? A feudal
lord who made your dapper French counts and Hungarian barons appear but
small fry indeed, by contrast! The light of the sea seemed suddenly to
dazzle Mr. Heatherbloom. A wild thought surged through his brain. Betty
Dalrymple, bewildering, confusing, made up of captivating
inconsistencies, had sometimes been accused by people of a capacity for
doing the wildest things. Had she for excitement--or any other
reason--eloped with the prince? Were they, perhaps, married even now? He
dismissed the thought quickly. All the circumstances pointed against
this theory; his original one was--must be--correct.

"Well, now you are here, I suppose I've got to keep you." The prince had
again spoken.

"I suppose so," said Mr. Heatherbloom absently. He was studying now the
near-by cabin windows. One, with beautiful lace and glimpses of pink
beyond, caught his glance.

"What can you do?" Sharply.

"Oh, a lot of things!" Had the curtain waved? His heart thumped hard--he
scarcely saw the prince now.

"Not manage a sail-boat, I'm convinced." He forced himself to turn
again, as through a mist was aware of his excellency's sneering
countenance. "Judging from your recent performance!"

"That was hardly a fair test," Mr. Heatherbloom replied anyhow. His
thoughts were keyed to a straining-point; his glance _would_ swerve; he
strove his best to control it. She was there--there--Shrouds and stays
seemed to sing the words. He would have sworn he caught the flash of a
white wrist.

"Why not?" Was the prince still examining, questioning him? Again a
primal impulse was suppressed, though his muscles were like whipcords.
He yet compelled himself to endure the ordeal. What was the query about?
Ah, he remembered.

"Well, you see, I must have lost my head." It was not a bright answer
but he did not care; it was the best that occurred.

The prince strode restlessly away a few paces, then returned. "Were you
ever at sea before?"

"I once owned a y----" Mr. Heatherbloom paused--with an effort resumed
his part and a smile somewhat strained: "I once went on a cruise on a
gentleman's yacht." Some one _was_ in the state-room; was overhearing.
His head hummed; the refrain of the taut lines rang louder.

"What as? Cabin-boy, cook?"

"Why, you see--" The prince certainly did not see him--he was once more
staring away, over the da