On first opening her eyes she felt surprise and fear on finding herself in the berth of a state-room on a rocking steamboat; but instantly she remembered the rash step that had placed her in this position, and her soul was filled with dismay. For a moment she repented her reckless flight, and contemplated remaining on the steamer under the protection of Long Laweeny, and returning with it on its next down voyage to her home. Only for a moment did she think of such an alternative to going on and completing her other purpose. The vision of her uncle and his importunities frightened her from all idea of going back. “No!” she said to herself, “I cannot trust him. I can trust David Lindsay.” In the spirit of this trust she met her old playmate on deck. He, too, had had his deep sleep of oblivion and his wakening to astonishment and perplexity. But no instant’s doubt of his future course disturbed his mind; he was devoted to his lady’s service, and determined to do her will. In this spirit of loyalty he received her on deck. The wind had shifted to the northwest and cleared the sky of every cloud; but it was now blowing dead ahead, and so the boat had both wind and current against her, and her upward progress was slow. Gloria and David had spent the day on deck, only leaving it to go to breakfast, dinner and supper in the saloon. After supper they separated, as before, at the head of the companion-way leading down into the ladies’ cabin, where Gloria spent the evening in drawing out Long Laweeny to talk of the old La Comptes until bed-time, when she retired to her berth. The same evening David spent in talking to the officer of the deck until the hour came which relieved the latter, and drew the former to the saloon state-room, which he shared with a country storekeeper. It was sunset when she entered the mouth of the Potomac and near daylight when she reached Washington. When Gloria awoke that morning the first thing that struck her was the stillness of the steamer, and the next a small fleet of oyster-boats, a crowded wharf, and a row of dingy warehouses—all seen through the window of her state-room as soon as she slid back the shutter. Then she dressed quickly, for she knew the boat was at Washington. But again she was seized with that panic of dread which had temporarily overcome her on her awakening on the previous morning. Again she felt the impulse to fly from her purpose and return to her home while there was yet time. But the vision of her uncle in his madness arose before her mind’s eye and checked her impulse. “No, I cannot trust him! I cannot trust myself! but I can trust David Lindsay!” she said, as she completed her toilet, put her little personal effects into her traveling-bag, and went up on deck.