A chill breeze was blowing from the sea and as we walked along it cooled my heated temper. It must have had the same effect upon the girl, for her tight grip upon my arm gradually relaxed, and by the time we reached the second street she was walking with her usual alert step. “Monsieur,” she said after a while, “from your accent you must be French.” “Ah, yes, from Paris; but that was many years ago. There is the house I am taking you to.” “Indeed,” she said musingly. “I am from Paris, too. Are we so near the place? I am almost afraid to go to a strange house alone.” We had stopped beneath one of the occasional lanterns that were hung out from houses to light the street. “May I know,” she continued, “who has helped me to-night?” “My name is Le Bourse.” “What! What did you say?” “Michael Le Bourse. Is my name a strange one?” “Strange?” She caught me by the shoulders and twisted me towards the light, looking eagerly in my face. “Was I right last night?” she continued, all of a tremble with excitement. “Is it—can it be?” Then she threw herself into my arms. “Don’t you know me, Vincie, don’t you know me?” I held her from me in the light; then I knew. “Ruth,” I cried. I took her in my arms and covered her face with kisses. For a moment we had nothing to say to each other there in the still street under the solitary lantern. There seemed to be no world outside; only we two: I and Ruth, for whom I had sought so many years. “Ruthie,” I kept whispering again and again. “I have found my little Ruth.” CHAPTER III THE ROYAL LION How long we stood there in the joy of that moment I can never say. We were brought back to a sense of our surroundings by the jarring voice of someone speaking to us from the sidewalk. “Ah ha! Bless my stars if it isn’t my two passengers all in one.” It was Captain Donaldson who had spoken, and I was glad of a friend to turn to, for I was at my wits’ end to know what to do. Only a few words were necessary to acquaint him with our story. His genial eyes stood out in amazement as the tale of our long separation and accidental meeting unfolded itself to his willing sympathy. “God-a-mercy me,” he cried, striking his chest. “It is hard to believe how the Lord does go about it to work His will. ’Twas only yesterday, Mistress Ruth, that I was charging him to fall in love with you, and now I suppose I shall lose both my passengers.” He took on a thoughtful look at the idea of losing us. After a moment’s deliberation, however, he clapped his hands together. “Well, that shall not prevent my sailing at the usual hour; no, not if I have to go empty-cabined inside and out.”