Captain Woodhouse, who had dallied long over his dinner for lack of something else to do, came out of the dining-room just then, saw a woman in difficulties with the landlord, and instinctively stepped forward to offer his services. "Beg pardon, but can I be of any help?" Jane turned. The captain's heart gave a great leap and then went cold. Frank pleasure followed the first surprise in the girl's eyes. "Why, Captain Woodhouse--how jolly!--To see you again after----" She put out her hand with a free gesture of comradeship. Captain Woodhouse did not see the girl's hand. He was looking into her eyes coldly, aloofly. "I beg your pardon, but aren't you mistaken?" "Mistaken?" The girl was staring at him, mystified. "I'm afraid I have not had the pleasure of meeting you," he continued evenly. "But if I can be of service--now----" She shrugged her shoulders and turned away from him. "A small matter. I owe this man twenty shillings, and he will not accept French paper. It's all I have." Woodhouse took the note from her. "I'll take it gladly--perfectly good." He took some money from his pocket and looked at it. Then, to Almer: "I say, can you split a crown?" "Change for you in a minute, sir--the tobacco shop down the street." Almer pocketed the gold piece and dodged out of the door. Jane turned and found the deep-set gray eyes of Captain Woodhouse fixed upon her. They craved pardon--toleration of the incident just passed. CHAPTER IX ROOM D Woodhouse hurried to Jane Gerson's side and began to speak swiftly and earnestly: "You are from the States?" A shrug was her answer. The girl's face was averted, and in the defiant set of her shoulders Woodhouse found little promise of pardon for the incident of the minute before. He persisted: "This war means nothing to you--one side or the other?" "I have equal pity for them both," she answered in a low voice. "We are living in dangerous times," he continued earnestly. "I tell you frankly, were the fact that you and I had met before to become known here on the Rock the consequences would be most--inconvenient--for me." Jane turned and looked searchingly into his face. Something in the tone rather than the words roused her quick sympathy. Woodhouse kept on: "I am sorry I had to deny that former meeting just now--that meeting which has been with me in such vivid memory. I regret that were you to allude to it again I would have to deny it still more emphatically." "I'm sure I shan't mention it again," the girl broke in shortly. "Perhaps since it means so little to you--your silence--perhaps you will do me that favor, Miss Gerson." "Certainly." Woodhouse could see that anger still tinged her speech. "May I go further--and ask you to--promise?" A shadow of annoyance creased her brow, but she nodded. "That is very good of you," he thanked her. "Shall you be long on the Rock?" "No longer than I have to. I'm sailing on the first boat for the States," she answered.