"You are right, Miss Josselin, and you are wrong. . . . Mistress Vyell has come to Boston in the _Venus_; and by reason that her husband, when he started, had as little acquaintance with fear for others as for himself. But if she return to Carolina it will be by land or when peace is signed. Love has made the Captain think; and thought has made him-- well, with madam on board, I am thankful--" He checked himself. "You are thankful he did not sight a guarda-costa." She concluded the sentence for him, and walked some way in silence, while he at her side was silent, being angry at having said so much. "Yet Captain Harry is recklessly brave?" she mused. "To the last degree, Miss Josselin," Mr. Hanmer agreed eagerly. "To the last degree within the right military rules. Fighting a ship's an art, you see." It seemed that she did not hear him. "It runs in the blood," she said. She was thinking, fearfully yet exultantly, of this wonderful power of women, for whose sake cowards will behave as heroes and heroes turn to cowards. They had outstripped the chairmen, and were at the gate of Sabines. He held it open for her. She bethought her that his last two or three sentences had been firmly spoken, that his voice had shaken off its husky stammer, and on the impulse of realised power she took a fancy to hear it tremble again. "But if madam will not be on board to look after Dicky, the more will he need a friend. Mr. Hanmer, will you be that friend?" "You are choosing a rough sort of nurse-maid." "But will you?" She faced him, wonderful in the moonlight. His eyes dropped. His voice stammered, "I--I will do my best, Miss Josselin." She held out a hand. He took it perforce in his rope-roughened paw, held it awkwardly for a moment, and released it as one lets a bird escape. Ruth smiled. "The best of women," ran a saying of Batty Langton's, "if you watch 'em, are always practising; even the youngest, as a kitten plays with a leaf." They stood in silence, waiting for the chair to overtake them. "Tatty, you are a heroine!" Miss Quiney, unwinding a shawl from her head under the hall-lamp, released herself from Ruth's embrace. Her nerve had been strained and needed a recoil. "Maybe," she answered snappishly. "For my part, I'd take more comfort, just now, to be called a respectable woman." Ruth laughed, kissed her again, and stood listening to the footsteps as they retreated down the gravelled way. Among them her ear distinguished easily the firm tread of Mr. Hanmer. Chapter VII. FIRST OFFER. A little before noon next day word came to her room that Sir Oliver had called and desired to speak with her. She was not unprepared. She had indeed dressed with special care in the hope of it; but she went to her glass and stood for a minute or two, touching here and there her seemly tresses.