and I had no eyes now
for its charm of decoration; but I saw that it was large, and divided by
a curtained arch into a bedroom and a tiny yet complete study fitted
with bookshelves and a desk.

"You're pale as death!" He lowered his voice cautiously. "Sit down in
this chair." As he spoke he led me through the bedroom part of the cabin
to the study, and there I sank gratefully into the depths of a big
chair, where, no doubt, he had sat reading under the light of a shaded
lamp.

"Now what is it?" he asked, bending over me. As I stammered out my
story, for a few seconds I forgot the fear of being followed. Our backs
were turned to the door. But I had not got far in the tale when I felt
that _she_ had come into the room. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw
her--a shabby, sinister figure--hanging on to the curtain that draped
the archway.

Roger's start and stifled exclamation proved that, whatever else she
might be, the woman was no imposter.

"You devil!" he gasped.

"Your wife!" she retorted.

"Hush," I whispered. "For every sake let's keep this quiet!"

"_I'll_ be quiet for my own sake, if he accepts my terms," said the
woman. "If not, the whole yacht----"

"Be silent!" Roger commanded. "Princess, I've got to see this through.
You'd better go now, and leave me alone with her."

He was right. My presence would hinder rather than help. I saw the
greenish eyes dart from his face to mine when he called me "Princess";
but she must have fancied it a pet name, for no question flashed from
her lips as I tiptoed across the room.

When I got back to my own quarters, I noticed at once that the brandy
bottle and the tumbler which had accompanied it were gone from my
dressing table. Nor were they to be found in the cabin. The woman must
have taken them to Roger's room, and placed them somewhere before I saw
her. "Disgusting!" I murmured, for my thought was that the debased
wretch had clung lovingly to the drink. Even though I'd sharpened my
wits to search all her motives, I failed over that simple-seeming act.

"Oh, poor Roger!" I said to myself. "And poor Shelagh!"

I sat miserably on the window seat (for the rumpled bed was now
abhorrent), and wondered what would happen next. But I had not long to
wait. A few moments passed--how many I don't know--and the crystalline
silence of the gliding _Naiad_ was splintered by a scream.

'Scream' is the word one must use for a cry of pain or fear. Yet it
isn't the right word f