"Yes," replied the captain, good-naturedly, "I suppose I may as well. She will be a companion to my wife. Carry her below, friend Jacques, but mind you don't get so dazzled by the girl's pretty eyes, as to neglect your duty. Take her away." "Ay, ay, sir," answered Jacques, who raised Adéle's slender form in his arms and transported her to the captain's cabin. The skipper's wife was glad of a companion and at once proceeded to restore her to consciousness, while Jacques related the affair. When Adéle opened her eyes she looked wildly around her and murmured: "Is this death?" "No, deary," replied the captain's wife, "this is life. You were saved by Jacques here." "Oh! let me die." "What for, child? You are young and pretty. Life should have its charms for you." "I have seen him and he drove me from him. He says I have no claim on him and threatened me with the police. Oh! it has broken my heart." She burst into a paroxysm of bitter tears, but they relieved the overcharged fountains of her soul. "It will do her good," exclaimed her kind protectress. Jacques Belot gnashed his teeth. "She said 'he' and she has seen him," he muttered. "I know what it means well enough. That vile Englishman has gone back on her. I have seen him, I can recall his face like a book. He is a lord, they say; his name is Maltravers. You see I forget nothing. We shall meet one day, and it seems to me that there will be a little account for me to square with Mr. Englishman--_sacré-e-e_!" Presently Adéle recognized Jacques, and greeted him as an old friend, but not as a former lover. To him and the captain's wife she related her story, gaining much sympathy from them. "Forget this milor'," said the captain's wife. "Impossible," rejoined Adéle. "He is unworthy of you. Go to America and marry this brave fellow who loves you and has saved your life." Adéle shook her head sadly. "Madame," she replied, "though I am deserted, I cannot fail to recollect that I am the legal wife of Lord Maltravers." "At least promise that you will not again attempt to commit suicide." "I promise." With that they were obliged to be content and so the good ship _Notre Dame de Calais_ sailed along the English Channel and out into the storms of the broad Atlantic. CHAPTER V. THE VOYAGE. Some days afterward the ocean steamship Erin started from Liverpool, having on board, among others, Jack Harkaway and his friends, and Signor Bambino, an Italian gentleman, who stated that he was proceeding to New York on business of a commercial nature. Jack and Harvey took no interest whatever in the absurd question about the buffalo, which agitated the quidnuncs of the Travelers' Club. The reason Jack was going to New York was simple enough; he wanted to be where Miss Van Hoosen was; and Harvey went because his friend Jack did.