rds one almost immediately.

If Sir John were in the ladies' boudoir, it was not for me to disturb
him, and I turned away and passed out of the corridor.

As I was preparing to descend to the cabins I heard the low strains of
the small organ which the piety of a former owner of the _Sea Queen_
had placed at the end of the music gallery. I entered, and in the
customary twilight made out a figure at the farther end of the room.
Perhaps it was the dim light that gave the old air its significance. It
had somewhat the effect upon me that music in a church heard faintly
and moving with simple solemnity has always had. What is there that
speaks so gravely in the wind notes and reeds of an organ?

Ein feste burg ist unser Gott.

I knew the words as familiarly as I knew the music, and yet that was
almost the last place and time in which I should have expected to hear
it. It was not Mademoiselle who played so low and soft to hear. Oh, I
felt sure of that! The touch was lighter, graver and quieter. I drew
near the player and listened. I had heard Mademoiselle sing that
wonderful song, "Adelaide," and she had sung it divinely. But I would
have given a dozen "Adelaide's" for that simple air, rendered by no
voice, but merely by sympathetic fingers on those austere keys. I
listened, as I say, and into my heart crept something--I know not
what--that gave me a feeling of fulness of heart, of a surcharge of
strange and not wholly painful sentiment.

I was still battling with these sensations when the music ceased and
the player arose. She started slightly on seeing me, and I found myself
stammering an excuse for my presence.

"I was looking for Sir John Barraclough."

"Come," she said, after a moment's pause, "I will find him for you."

I followed her into the corridor, until she paused outside a door and
opened it abruptly without knocking. I waited without, but I heard her
voice, strangely harsh and clear.

"Sir John Barraclough, you are being sought by Dr. Phillimore."

Three minutes later Barraclough joined me, red and discomposed.
"Anything the matter?" he growled.

I knew now that I had been used as a definite excuse to get rid of
Barraclough, whose presence was not welcome to the Princess Alix; and
with that knowledge I framed my answer.

"Yes; what terms have you made with Holgate?"

He started as if I had struck him, stared at me, and his jaw came out
in a heavy obstinate fashion he had.

"What's that to you