hed, and the stars were
resplendent. It was enough, as Jack Molloy said, to make even a bad man
feel good!

"Do 'ee speak from personal experience, Jack?" asked a comrade on that
occasion.

"I might, Jim, if _you_ wasn't here," retorted Molloy; "but it's not
easy to feel bad alongside o' _you_."

"That's like a double-edged sword, Jack--cuts two ways. W'ich way d'ee
mean it?"

"`W'ichever way you please,' as the man said w'en the alligator axed 'im
w'ether he'd prefer to be chawed up or bolted whole."

Concluding that, on the whole, the conversation of his friends did not
tend to edification, Miles left them and went to one of the starboard
gangways, from which he could take a contemplative view of Nature in her
beautiful robe of night. Curiously enough, Marion chanced to saunter
towards the same gangway, and unexpectedly found him there.

"A lovely night, Mr Miles," she remarked.

Miles started, and turned with slight confusion in his face, which,
happily, the imperfect light concealed.

"Beautiful indeed!" he exclaimed, thinking of the face before him--not
of the night!

"A cool, beautiful night like this," continued the girl--who was of the
romantic age of sixteen--"will remain long, I should think, in your
memory, and perhaps mitigate, in some degree, the hardships that are
before you on the burning sand of Egypt."

"The memory of this night," returned Miles, with fervour, "will remain
with me _for ever_! It will not only mitigate what you are pleased to
call hardships, but will cause me to forget them altogether--forget
_everything_!"

"Nay, that were impossible," rejoined Marion, with a slight laugh; "for
a true soldier cannot forget Duty!"

"True, true," said Miles dubiously; "at least it ought to be true; and I
have no doubt is so in many cases, but--"

What more he might have said cannot now be told, for they were
interrupted at the moment by Captain Lacey, who, happening to walk in
that direction, stopped and directed Miss Drew's attention to a
picturesque craft, with high lateen sails, which had just entered into
the silver pathway of the moon on the water.

Miles felt that it would be inappropriate in him to remain or to join in
the conversation. With a heart full of disappointment and indignation
he retired, and sought refuge in the darkest recesses of the pantry, to
which he was welcome at all times, being a great favourite with the
steward.

Whether it was the smell of the cheese