ible, and her reliance
upon Pierre's good faith increased daily. Somehow, unaccountably, she
had wholly ceased to regard him as an enemy. Possibly her fears and even
her antagonism were only dormant, but at least they did not torment her.
She did not start at the sound of his voice, or shrink from the straight
regard of those hard eyes. She knew by that instinct that cannot err
that he meant to keep his word.

They left the regions of endless summer behind at last, and the cooler
breezes of the north swept the long, blue ridges over which they
travelled. They came into a more frequented, less dreamlike sea, but
though many vessels passed them, they were seldom near enough for
greeting. And Stephanie came to understand that it was not Pierre's
desire to hold much converse with the outer world. Yet she knew that
they were heading straight for England, and their isolation was bound
ere long to come to an end.

It was summer weather even in England just then, summer weather in the
blue Atlantic, summer everywhere. She spent many hours of each day in a
sheltered corner of the deck, watching the leaping waves, green and
splendid, racing from the keel. And a strange content was hers while she
watched, born of the unwonted peace which of late had wrapped her round.
She was as one come into safe harbourage after long and futile tossing
upon the waters of strife. She did not question her security. She only
knew that it was there.

But one day there came a change--a grey sky and white-capped waves.
Suddenly and inexplicably, as is the way of the northern climate, the
sunshine was withdrawn, the summer weather departed, and there came
desolation.

Stephanie's corner on deck was empty. She crouched below, ill, shivering
with cold and wretchedness. All day long she listened to the howling
wind and pitiless, lashing rain, rising above the sullen roar of the
waves. All day long the vessel pitched and tossed, flinging her back and
forth while she clung in desperation to the edge of her berth.

Pierre waited upon her from time to time, but he could do little to
relieve her discomfort, and he left her for the most part alone.

As evening drew on, the gale increased, and Stephanie, lying in her
cabin, could hear the great waves breaking over the deck with a violence
that grew more awful with every moment. Her nerves began to give way
under the strain. It was a long while since Pierre had been near her,
and the loneliness appalled he