"What I wished to ask depends upon your being here for a day or two," the priest said readily. "Father Pelée's hot breath is killing our children in the lower quarters of the city, and many of the poor women are suffering. The ship out in the harbor looked to me like a good angel with folded wings, as I walked the water-front this morning. I thought you would be glad to let me send some mothers and babies--to breathe the good air of the offing. A day, or a night and a day, may save lives." Paula had felt a proprietary interest in Father Fontanel's mission, no matter what it proved to be. She was pleased beyond measure to find that he was entirely incapable of awe or cringing, before a man of stern and distinguished mien and of such commanding dignity. Moreover, he stated the favor quite as if it were an advantage which the American had not thought of for himself. So interested was she in the priest's utterance, that when her eyes turned from his face to Stock's--the alteration there amazed her. And like the natives of the water-front, the American did not seem to be _aware_ of the benign influence. He had followed the French sentences intently at first, but caught the whole idea before the priest was finished. "Did you know I wasn't a Catholic?" he asked. The question apparently had been in his mind before he felt himself responding to the appeal. "No," Father Fontanel answered sincerely. "The truth is, it didn't occur to me whether you were or not." "Quite right," Mr. Stock said quickly. "It has no place, whatever, so long as you don't think so. You've got a good idea. I'll be here for a day or two. You'll need money to hire boats; then my first officer will have to be informed. My launch is at the Sugar Landing.... On second thought, I'll go back down-town with you.... Miss Wyndam--later in the day--a chat with you?" "Of course." Father Fontanel turned, thanking her with a smile. "And the name is 'Wyndam,'" he added. "I had not heard it before." Paula watched them walking down the driveway to the carriage which she had retained for Father Fontanel. The inclination was full-formed to seek the solitude of her room and there review the whole delightful matter.... She was glad that the priest had not asked her name, for under his eyes--she could not have answered "Wyndam." It was not until the following evening, after a day of actual physical suffering from Pelée and the heat, even on the _Morne_, that she had the promised talk with Peter Stock. "I like your priest," he said, "He works like a man, and he hasn't got a crook in his back. What he wants he seems to get. I have sent over a hundred natives out yonder on the _Saragossa_, negotiated for the town's whole available supply of fresh milk, and Laird, my chief officer, is giving the party a little cruise to-night----" "Do you know--I think it is splendid?" she exclaimed. "What?" "The work--your ship filled with gasping unfortunates from the city!"