crisis, nor would any one have gathered from his conversation or demeanour that he was the head of one of the greatest houses in Europe and a millionaire. The first time a shadow crossed his face was late one afternoon, when, coming on deck a little behind the others after lunch, he found them all leaning over the starboard bow, gazing intently at some object a little distance off, and at the same time became aware that the engines had been put to half-speed. He was strolling towards the little group, when the captain, seeing him, beckoned him on to the bridge. "Here's something that will interest you, Mr. Sabin," he called out. "Won't you step this way?" Mr. Sabin mounted the iron steps carefully but with his eyes turned seawards; a large yacht of elegant shape and painted white from stern to bows was lying-to about half a mile off flying signals. Mr. Sabin reached the bridge and stood by the captain's side. "A pleasure yacht," he remarked. "What does she want?" "I shall know in a moment," the captain answered with his glass to his eye. "She flew a distress signal at first for us to stand by, so I suppose she's in trouble. Ah! there it goes. 'Mainshaft broken,' she says." "She doesn't lie like it," Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. The captain looked at him with a smile. "You know a bit about yachting too," he said, "and, to tell you the truth, that's just what I was thinking." "Holmes." "Yes, sir." "Ask her what she wants us to do." The signalman touched his hat, and the little row of flags ran fluttering up in the breeze. "She signals herself the _Mayflower_, private yacht, owner Mr. James Watson of New York," he remarked. "She's a beautiful boat." Mr. Sabin, who had brought his own glasses, looked at her long and steadily. "She's not an American built boat, at any rate," he remarked. An answering signal came fluttering back. The captain opened his book and read it. "She's going on under canvas," he said, "but she wants us to take her owner and his wife on board." "Are you compelled to do so?" Mr. Sabin asked. The captain laughed. "Not exactly! I'm not expected to pick up passengers in mid ocean." "Then I shouldn't do it," Mr. Sabin said. "If they are in a hurry the _Alaska_ is due up to-day, isn't she? and she'll be in New York in three days, and the _Baltimore_ must be close behind her. I should let them know that." "Well," the captain answered, "I don't want fresh passengers bothering just now." The flags were run up, and the replies came back as promptly. The captain shut up his glass with a bang. "No getting out of them," he remarked to Mr. Sabin. "They reply that the lady is nervous and will not wait; they are coming on board at once--for fear I should go on, I suppose. They add that Mr. Watson is the largest American holder of Cunard stock and a director of the American Board, so have them we must--that's pretty certain. I must see the purser."