the
stern. A little girl ran into the inclosure, laughing and screaming, and
clung to his legs, while she jumped up and down in an overflow of
spirits.

"I wunned 'way," she said; "I wunned 'way from mamma."

Drying his wet hands on his trousers, Rowland lifted the tot and said,
tenderly: "Well, little one, you must run back to mamma. You're in bad
company." The innocent eyes smiled into his own, and then--a foolish
proceeding, which only bachelors are guilty of--he held her above the
rail in jesting menace. "Shall I drop you over to the fishes, baby?" he
asked, while his features softened to an unwonted smile. The child gave
a little scream of fright, and at that instant a young woman appeared
around the corner. She sprang toward Rowland like a tigress, snatched
the child, stared at him for a moment with dilated eyes, and then
disappeared, leaving him limp and nerveless, breathing hard.

"It is her child," he groaned. "That was the mother-look. She is
married--married." He resumed his work, with a face as near the color of
the paint he was scrubbing as the tanned skin of a sailor may become.

Ten minutes later, the captain, in his office, was listening to a
complaint from a very excited man and woman.

"And you say, colonel," said the captain, "that this man Rowland is an
old enemy?"

"He is--or was once--a rejected admirer of Mrs. Selfridge. That is all I
know of him--except that he has hinted at revenge. My wife is certain of
what she saw, and I think the man should be confined."

"Why, captain," said the woman, vehemently, as she hugged her child,
"you should have seen him; he was just about to drop Myra over as I
seized her--and he had such a frightful leer on his face, too. Oh, it
was hideous. I shall not sleep another wink in this ship--I know."

"I beg you will give yourself no uneasiness, madam," said the captain,
gravely. "I have already learned something of his antecedents--that he
is a disgraced and broken-down naval officer; but, as he has sailed
three voyages with us, I had credited his willingness to work
before-the-mast to his craving for liquor, which he could not satisfy
without money. However--as you think--he may be following you. Was he
able to learn of your movements--that you were to take passage in this
ship?"

"Why not?" exclaimed the husband; "he must know some of Mrs. Selfridge's
friends."

"Yes, yes," she said, eagerly; "I have heard him spoken of, several
times."

"Then it is