Jörgen Thiis stood dismayed. The others stared. He said hastily: "I have just been telling your father and Mrs. Dawes that we younger officers consider Frans Röy the best man we have. So I spoke with no unfriendly intention." "Nor did I suspect you of any. But as I myself have not mentioned the acquaintance here, I do not think that the subject ought to be introduced by strangers." In utter consternation Jörgen stammered that, that, that he had had no other intention in doing so than to, to, to.... "I know that," Mary replied, cutting short the conversation. They went down to dinner. At table Jörgen as a matter of course returned to the subject. It could not be allowed to drop thus. All Frans Röy's brother officers, he said, regretted that he had exchanged into the engineers. He was a particularly able strategist. Their military exercises, both theoretical and practical, had provided him with opportunities to distinguish himself. Jörgen gave instances, but the others did not understand them. So he went on to tell anecdotes of Frans Röy as a comrade, as an officer. These were supposed to show how popular and how ready-witted he was. Mary declared that they chiefly showed how boyish he was. Thereupon Jörgen said that he had only heard the stories from others; Frans Röy was older than he. "What do _you_ think of him?" he suddenly asked in a very innocent manner. Mary did not answer immediately. Her father and Mrs. Dawes looked up. "He talks a great deal too much." Jörgen laughed. "Yes; but how can he help that--he who has so much strength?" "Must it be exercised upon us?" They all laughed, and the strain which had been making them uncomfortable relaxed. Krog and Mrs. Dawes felt safe, as far as Frans Röy was concerned. So did Jörgen Thiis. At half-past eight they went upstairs again. Mary at once retired to her room, pleading fatigue. She lay and listened to Jörgen playing. Then she lay and wept. * * * * * Next evening, on the sea, wide and motionless, the faint twilight ushered in the summer night. Two pillars of smoke rose in the distance. Except for these, the dull grey above and beneath was unbroken. Mary leaned against the rail. No one was in sight, and the thud of the engine was the only sound. She had been listening to music downstairs, and had left the others there. An unspeakable feeling of loneliness had driven her up to this barren outlook--clouds as far as the eye could reach. Nothing but clouds; not even the reflection of the sun which had gone down.