, to show a small white tent, almost like a covered
boat. A voice was calling to him from it, and he struggled to get near,
falling and stumbling among the yellow waves. Then abruptly he started
back. It was Billie Brookton's voice. Instead of being glad to hear it,
he was bitterly, bleakly disappointed, and felt chilled to the heart
with cold. Surprised at his own despair, he waked up, with a great
start, just in time to brace his feet against the bottom of the berth
and save himself from being thrown out by a shuddering bound of the
ship. From overhead he heard a sigh of pain or weariness, and the top
berth creaked with some movement of its occupant. "The beast's awake!"
thought Max, resentfully. "Now for ructions! No more hope of sleep for
me, I suppose."

But all was still again, except for a faint rustling as if the pillow
were being turned over. At the same instant something long and supple,
like a thick, silky rope, slid down from above. He could see it in the
dim light as it fell and brushed his hand protruding, palm uppermost,
over the edge of the bunk. Quite mechanically he shut his fingers on the
thing, to prevent its dropping to the floor, and, to his amazement, it
felt to the touch like a woman's hair. His hand was full of it--a great,
satin-soft curl it seemed to be. Only, it _couldn't_ be that, of course!
Maybe he was half dreaming still. He opened his fingers and let the
stuff go. But instead of falling to the floor, the long rope swayed
gently back and forth with the rocking of the ship. It _was_ hair! A
wonderful plait of hair, attached to a woman's head. A woman was lying
there in the upper berth.

CHAPTER V

THE NIGHT OF STORMS

A Woman! But how was it possible that there should be a woman in his
cabin? There must have been some unthinkable mistake, and he felt
confident that it was not he who had made it. He had looked carefully at
the number over the door, comparing it with the number on his ticket.
But, after all, what did it matter? It was too late now to apportion
blame. She was there. And what hair she had! When she stood up it must
fall far below her knees.

"What shall I do?" thought Max. "Shall I lie still until she goes to
sleep again, and then sneak out into the _salle_? If she doesn't see my
suitcase she need never know I've been in the room."

And, after all, it came back to that, whether he had mistaken the cabin,
or she. If he had left his suitcase in plain sight, marked