"I am more anxious to please you than anything else in the world; you must have seen that long ago," he went on, moving closer. I gave a little bound, because the boat was certainly going in zigzags, and he was so near that by accident I jogged his elbow. With that, the boat darted off to the left, at twice the rate it had been going. I screamed under my breath, as Beechy says, and caught hold of the seat with both hands. The Prince did something in a hurry to the machinery, and suddenly the engine was as still as death. The boat went on for a few yards, as if by its own impetus, and then began to float helplessly. "I've stopped the motor by mistake," he explained. "I will start it again soon, but let us remain as we are for the present. It is so delicious to rock quietly on the little waves with you beside me, and the rest of the world far away." "Oh, but the waves aren't so very little," I said. "The water hasn't smoothed down since the storm. It's awfully nice and poetic, but don't you think it would be still nicer if you just steered?" "I cannot steer the boat unless the motor is working," he replied. "But there is no danger of our being run down at this time. The moon lights the water with a great white lamp." "Yes, but look at that big, dark cloud," said I, pointing up. "It will be putting out the light of the lamp in about five minutes. And--and I _do_ see things moving on the water. When the moon is obscured, we _might_ have a collision." The Prince looked up and saw the cloud too. "Very well," he said. "I will start the motor at once on one condition--that you do not ask me to take you home for an hour, at least." "I promise that," I answered, quite shyly. Instantly he set to work at the motor; but it wouldn't start. The Prince did a great many things, and even lighted dozens of matches, to see what was the matter, but not a throb would the engine give. "I am afraid," he announced at last, in a voice that tried not to sound cross, "I'm afraid the sparking-plug is broken." "Well?" said I, "What then? Shall we be drowned?" "Not at all," he reassured me, taking my hand. "We shall only drift about until some one comes to our rescue, as unfortunately there are no oars on board. If I thought you were not unhappy, I could rejoice in the accident." I let him keep my hand, but I couldn't feel as happy as I ought, to be polite. "It's--it's very interesting," I stammered, "but they don't know where we are, and they'll never think to search the lake for us!" "The chauffeur will come to see what is wrong if I do not get the boat back by a little after midnight," said the Prince. "A little after midnight!" I echoed. "But that would be awful! What would they think? And oh, see, the cloud's over the moon! Ugh, how dark it is. We shall certainly be run down. Couldn't we call for help?"