ngly.

But an unforeseen incident occurred the night before the _Saluria_
landed which caused him suddenly to change his plans. He was just ready
to go below for the night when an overmastering desire for one more word
with Bobby seized him. By a bit of Machiavellian strategy he had
outwitted Andy that afternoon, and had her entirely to himself for three
blissful hours.

It was in their old haunt behind the wind-shelter, and he had taken the
opportunity, if not to "shatter her to bits," at least "to remold her
nearer to the heart's desire." He had done it with consummate tact, and
she had responded with adorable docility. He never admired himself more
than in the role of cicerone to a young and trusting maid. By the
subtlest methods he knew how to convey approval or disapproval of
anything from a beaded slipper to a moral sentiment. He could stir
dormant ambition, rouse lagging courage, inspire patience, and all he
demanded in return was unfaltering homage from the fair one.

In the present instance, however, the entire time was not devoted to
correcting faults of manner and speech or to acquiring the higher
Christian virtues. It was incredible how many things they found to talk
about, considering the fact that art, literature, music, the drama,
foreign travel, and London gossip were not among them. Bobby's way of
diving unexpectedly from the general into the personal made a
tete-a-tete with her peculiarly exhilarating.

The trouble was that the more one had, the more one wanted, and going to
bed now without a parting word seemed to Percival really more than he
had a right to ask of himself. He circled the deck several times in
indecision, then he ascended the companionway and made his way aft.

A full moon hung high in the heavens, and a flood of silver poured in a
dazzling stream across the level surface of the sea. The quarter-deck,
the white boats amidships, and all the brass work abaft the funnels
reflected the radiance.

"See who is here!" cried the irrepressible Andy from an
indistinguishable group that huddled together under steamer-rugs against
the big blue-and-white smoke-stack.

"May I speak to Miss Boynton for a moment?" asked Percival, icily.

"I'm afraid I can't get out," said Bobby. "Elise is sitting on my feet,
and Andy and I've got on the same sweater. There's a place for you here,
if you will come."

It is really too undignified an act in the life of the Honorable
Percival to chronicle, but