s gazed out over the sea, her brow knit in deep thought.
Her mind went back to the wounded criminal in the hospital cot and to
the look of fear and agony that came into his eyes when Hobson stood
over him and called him by name. Sister Teresa sat watching her
companion's face. Her whole life had been one of mercy and she never
lost an opportunity to plead its cause.

The Nurse's answer came slowly:

"No, I would not. There is misery enough in the world without my adding
to it."

"Would you help him to escape?"

"Yes, if what you tell me is true and he trusted me."

Sister Teresa rose to her feet, crossed herself, and said in a voice
that seemed to come through pent-up tears:

"Thank God! I go now to pray. It is my Hour of Silence."

When she returned, Nurse Jennings was still in her seat in the bow. The
sun shone bright and warm, and the sea had become calm.

"You look rested, Sister," she said, looking up into her face. "Your
color is fresher and the dark rings have gone from your eyes. Did you
sleep?"

"No, I wait for the night to sleep. It is hard enough then."

"What did you do?"

"I prayed for you and for myself. Come to the stateroom--I have
something to tell you."

"Tell it here," said Nurse Jennings in a more positive tone.

"No, it might hurt you, and others will notice. Come quick, please, or
my courage will fail."

"Can't I hear it to-night--" She was comfortable where she was and
remembered the narrow, steep steps to the lower deck.

"No! come now--and QUICK."

At the tone of agony in the Sister's voice Miss Jennings scrutinized
her companion's face. Her trained ear had caught an indrawn, fluttering
sob which she recognized as belonging to a certain form of hysteria.
Brooding over her troubles, combined with the effects of the sea air,
had unstrung the dear Sister's nerves.

"Yes, certainly," assented Miss Jennings. "Let me take your arm--step
carefully, and lean on me."

On reaching the stateroom, Sister Teresa waited until Miss Jennings had
entered, then she locked the door and pulled the curtains close.

"Listen, Miss Jennings, before you judge me. You remember yesterday how
I pleaded with you to help me find a bedroom where I could be alone.
You would not, and I could do nothing but let matters take their
course. Fate has placed me in your hands. When you said that you were
on the lookout for me and that you knew Hobson, the detective, I knew
that all was lost unless your heart w