"You are not very rich," she said at last. "We came from America in a much larger ship than this. He was with me then." Her eyes filled suddenly with tears, and she saw no longer either the cabin or the man. Faber covered the outstretched hand, and stroked it softly. "My poor little girl! You must make your home with me now." She shook her head. "You are not rich; it would be different with you," she said; and then, in just the childish tone she had used at the Cantina, she exclaimed, "I don't believe you have much money." He laughed, and reassured her. "I've a great deal more than you or I will ever want, Maryska." It was evident that the wolf-child was suspicious. The gipsy instincts were awake. "Will you give me some money if I want any?" "I'll give you as much as you ask me for." "Five crowns, say--would you give me five crowns?" "Of course I would." "Here and now?" and she held out her hand. He was nonplussed for the moment, but he took a bank-note from his pocket, and thrust it into her tiny fist. "There, I guess there are fifty crowns and more there, Maryska. You shall have another when you want it." The hand closed upon the bank-note like a vise. None the less, her thoughts were not wholly of the money. "If my father had been here he would have been very glad of this. He will never know now." "I don't believe that. He'll know that you've become my little daughter, Maryska. He'll understand that all right. My home's yours now. I want you to understand that right here." She shook her head, the long hair smoothed back from her forehead. "He will never know. I cannot speak to him. I have tried so hard and he does not hear me." "Believe no such thing, my dear. He hears every word you say. He knows that you will be happy with me." She looked up inquiringly. "With you, Mr. Faber? Why should I stay with you?" "Because I mean to make a home for you." "Will you make it upon this ship?" "Why, you couldn't live always upon a ship." She became practical. "I would sooner live in Ragusa; but not in the Cantina, because he would not be there with us. It is very cheap, and if you had the money we could live very well upon a crown a day and the wine. I have had no wine since I came away; the lady would not give me any. If you have any money left and would send for some wine----" She looked up beseechingly, with a look which reminded him of the little wild wolf who had run to the wine-shop the night he discovered her father. He hardly knew how to satisfy her. "I'll send down anything the doctor orders for you. If he says wine----" "Oh!" she cried, flown into a passion in an instant. "I could kill you--I could kill you for that!" And without another word she turned her face to the wall and still clutching her money tenaciously, she made it plain that she had done with him. "All right, Maryska," he said, rising, "you shall have the wine all right. I don't care that for the doctors; I'll see to it myself."