He was only twenty-four years of age, she but twenty-two. She had not concealed from him that she was poor and nearly friendless. He was rich and what is called a man of the world. What will happen to the girl on that journey? * * * * * There can be but two possibilities. Either the man will prove the kind friend he has represented and they will return able to look the world in the face without a blush--that is one of them. Or somewhere beneath the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea the fishes will gnaw the flesh of a woman who is drowned--that is the other. Let neither delude themselves, when the hour of temptation comes. There is no possibility outside these two. * * * * * I rose and paced the floor in remorse for my ill-spent life, in sympathy for the unhappy creature whose fears clouded the pleasure I meant to share with her. If there had been, away down in the lowest depths of my wild nature, the slightest thought of wrong to Marjorie May, it was crushed out of sight by that pathetic appeal. Crushed out of sight, yes! But there are seeds that put forth life with the dust of years piled above them. CHAPTER XI. A THEFT ON BOARD SHIP. The time before the date set for the sailing of the Madiana passed slowly enough, but contained little that is worth recording at length. Miss May took another dinner with me, though not in the same restaurant as before, she expressing a preference for another in a different part of the city. She came to my room daily about half the time and I went to hers the rest, for our afternoon talks. Her gowns were fitted, her baggage made ready; and she sent the trunks out to have the initials "M.C." marked upon them, to consort with her new title. As the date of sailing approached she grew visibly nervous, saying repeatedly that she would be glad when the ocean waves lay between us and Manhattan Island, in which sentiment I concurred heartily. On the day before our departure she expressed a wish to go to the wharf alone, rather than have me come for her, giving as a reason that she did not like the people at her lodgings to connect us in that move. This seemed sensible and I agreed without demur. I had long since ceased to have any suspicion of her and felt as certain that we would meet at the steamer as that the boat would sail. The evening before the day I was to go, I passed with Tom Barton at his house. It was the second time I had been there within a week. In some way Tom fixed it so that Statia consented to dine with us. She did the best she could, I suppose, to act as usual, but made a poor show of it to eyes as watchful as mine. I got a minute alone with her by accident and tried my best to cheer her up.