"Oh--well--perhaps. But I don't think there's any real danger. Besides--if it did, it's easy, you know." "What's easy?" "It's an easy death--over at once, in a flash. No lingering and last words and all that." He laughed. Fanny Trehearne's sunburned cheeks grew pale under their tan, and her cool grey eyes turned slowly away from his face, and rested on the blue water. "Please don't talk about such things!" she said in a tone that seemed hard to Lawrence. "Are you afraid of death?" he asked, still smiling. "I?" She turned upon him indignantly. "No--I don't believe that I'm much afraid of anything--for myself." "You turned pale," observed the young man, raising himself on his elbow as he lay on the cushions, and looking at her. Her colour came back more quickly than it had gone. "Did I?" she asked indifferently enough. "It's probably the sun. It's hot, lying here and drifting." "No. It wasn't the sun," said Lawrence, with conviction. "You were thinking that somebody you are fond of might die suddenly. We were talking about death." "What difference does it make whom I was thinking of?" She spoke impatiently now, still watching the water. "It makes all the difference there is, that's all," answered Lawrence. "Won't you tell me?" "No. Certainly not! Why should I? Look here--if you're well enough to talk, you're well enough to help me to get the sail up again." "Of course I am--but--" Lawrence showed no inclination to move. "But what? You're too lazy, I suppose." Fanny laughed. "Let me see your forehead--take your cap off," she added with a change of tone. Lawrence thrust the cap back, which did not help matters much, as his hair grew low and partially hid the bruise. The skin was not broken, but it was almost purple, and a large swelling had already appeared. "It's too bad!" exclaimed Fanny, looking at it, as he bent down his head, and softly touching it with her ungloved hand. "Tell me--do you feel very weak and dizzy still? I was only laughing when I spoke of your helping me with the sail." "Oh no!" answered Lawrence, cheerfully. "It aches a little, of course, but it will soon go off." "And your heart?" asked Fanny, anxiously. "Is it all right now? You don't think you'll faint again, do you?" "Not a bit." "I'm not sure. You're very pale." "I'm always pale, you know. It's my nature. It doesn't mean anything. Some people are naturally pale." "But you're not. You're dark, or brown, and not red, but you're not usually pale. I wish I had some whiskey, or something, to give you." She looked round the boat rather helplessly as though expecting to discover a remedy for his weakness. "Please don't make so much of it," said Lawrence, in a tone which showed that he was almost annoyed by her persistence. "I assure you that I won't have such bad taste as to die on your hands before we get to land!" Fanny rose to her feet and turned away from him with an impatient exclamation.