own
unchanged from some savage day.

CHAPTER VI

THE NEW MASTER

Alone in her state-room all these hours, Josephine St. Auban had
abundant time to reflect upon the singular nature of her situation.
At first, and very naturally, she was disposed to seek the
protection of the boat's officers, but a second thought convinced
her of the unwisdom of that course. As to this stranger, this
stalwart man of the West, she had appealed to him and he had made
no sign. She had no friend, no counselor. A feeling of
inefficiency, of smallness and helplessness, swept over her. For
the first time in her life she found herself hard and fast in the
grasp of events over which she had absolutely no control. She was
prisoner to her own good fame. She dared not declare herself. She
dared not cry out for help. None would believe her story. She
herself did not fully understand all the circumstances connected
with her unlawful banishment from the capital of the proudest and
freest republic of the world.

[Illustration: Josephine St. Auban had abundant time to reflect]

It was while still in this frame of mind that, on the day
following, there came to her a messenger bearing the card of
Warville Dunwody. She gazed at it for some moments undecided,
debating. She tried to reason. Had she trusted rather to woman's
vaticination, matters had been better for her. What she actually
did was to summon Jeanne to complete some hurried toilet
preparations. Then she set out to meet the sender of the card.

There was no occupant of the saloon excepting one, who rose as she
entered, hesitating. On the instant a sudden change swept over
Dunwody's face. Was it at first assuredness it had borne? "I am
glad that you have thus honored me," he said simply.

"It is much pleasanter to move about as one may," she answered.
"But where is our friend, Captain Carlisle, this morning? Is he
ill, or simply unmindful of one so unimportant as myself? I have
not heard from him."

"He left the boat last night," answered Dunwody gravely, his eyes
fixed on her face.

"Left the boat--he is gone? Why, he sent me no word, and I
thought--at least, he said--"

"He has, Madam, like Cataline, evaded, broken forth, absconded.
But as to leaving word for you, he was not quite so heartless as
all that. I have a message for you."

With a word craving permission she opened the message. It was
brief.

"MY DEAR COUNTESS:"
"You will be glad to kn