old gentleman; "do you know me? Don't you
know me?" He trembled visibly as he stooped and kissed her. The little
forehead puckered and wrinkled as the child struggled with memory; then
it cleared and the whole face sweetened to a smile.

"Gwampa," she said.

"Oh, God, I thank thee," murmured Mr. Selfridge, taking her in his arms.
"I have lost my son, but I have found his child--my granddaughter."

"But, sir," asked Rowland, eagerly; "you--this child's grandfather?
Your son is lost, you say? Was he on board the _Titan_? And the
mother--was she saved, or is she, too--" he stopped unable to continue.

"The mother is safe--in New York; but the father, my son, has not yet
been heard from," said the old man, mournfully.

Rowland's head sank and he hid his face for a moment in his arm, on the
table at which he sat. It had been a face as old, and worn, and weary as
that of the white-haired man confronting him. On it, when it
raised--flushed, bright-eyed and smiling--was the glory of youth.

"I trust, sir," he said, "that you will telegraph her. I am penniless at
present, and, besides, do not know her name."

"Selfridge--which, of course, is my own name. Mrs. Colonel, or Mrs.
George Selfridge. Our New York address is well known. But I shall cable
her at once; and, believe me, sir, although I can understand that our
debt to you cannot be named in terms of money, you need not be penniless
long. You are evidently a capable man, and I have wealth and influence."

Rowland merely bowed, slightly, but Mr. Meyer muttered to himself:
"Vealth and influence. Berhaps not. Now, gentlemen," he added, in a
louder tone, "to pizness. Mr. Rowland, will you tell us about der
running down of der _Royal Age_?"

"Was it the _Royal Age_?" asked Rowland. "I sailed in her one voyage.
Yes, certainly."

Mr. Selfridge, more interested in Myra than in the coming account,
carried her over to a chair in the corner and sat down, where he fondled
and talked to her after the manner of grandfathers the world over, and
Rowland, first looking steadily into the faces of the two men he had
come to expose, and whose presence he had thus far ignored, told, while
they held their teeth tight together and often buried their finger-nails
in their palms, the terrible story of the cutting in half of the ship on
the first night out from New York, finishing with the attempted bribery
and his refusal.

"Vell, gentlemen, vwhat do you think of that?" asked Mr. Meyer,