but a man must expect trouble when
he attaches himself to a woman." It is a wonder the flashes from
Mary's eyes did not strike the old sea-dog dead. He, however, did not
see them, and went on: "We are more than anxious that so valiant a
knight as Sir Charles Brandon should go with us, and hope your
reception will not drive you back, but as to the lady--you see already
the result of her presence, and much as we want you, we cannot take
her. Aside from the general trouble which a woman takes with her
everywhere"--Mary would not even look at the creature--"on shipboard
there is another and greater objection. It is said, you know, among
sailors, that a woman on board draws bad luck to certain sorts of
ships, and every sailor would desert, before we could weigh anchor, if
it were known this lady was to go with us. Should they find it out in
mid-ocean, a mutiny would be sure to follow, and God only knows what
would happen. For her sake, if for no other reason, take her ashore at
once."

Brandon saw only too plainly the truth that he had really seen all the
time, but to which he had shut his eyes, and throwing Mary's cloak
over her shoulders, prepared to go ashore. As they went over the side
and pulled off, a great shout went up from the ship far more derisive
than cheering, and the men at the oars looked at each other askance
and smiled. What a predicament for a princess! Brandon cursed himself
for having been such a knave and fool as to allow this to happen. He
had known the danger all the time, and his act could not be
chargeable to ignorance or a failure to see the probable consequences.
Temptation, and selfish desire, had given him temerity in place of
judgment. He had attempted what none but an insane man would have
tried, without even the pitiable excuse of insanity. He had seen it
all only too clearly from the very beginning, and he had deliberately
and with open eyes brought disgrace, ruin, and death--unless he could
escape--upon himself, and utter humiliation to her whom his love
should have prompted him to save at all cost. If Mary could only have
disguised herself to look like a man they might have succeeded, but
that little "if" was larger than Paul's church, and blocked the road
as completely as if it had been a word of twenty syllables.

When the princess stepped ashore it seemed to her as if the heart in
her breast was a different and separate organ from the one she had
carried aboard.

As the boat put off