“Oh!” gasped Elsie, and “Oh!” again, but not another word could she utter, she who had been so voluble a moment ago. The bitter-sweet pain of hearing this sudden avowal was almost overpowering. Her ideals of honor and truth were shocked; but she was a woman as well as an idealist, and she was stirred to the depths of her soul by the knowledge that she had won the man whose love she craved. Yet it must not be: she could never again hold her head high if she yielded to him. She must relinquish him, drive him away from her by an assumed coldness which would wring her very heart-strings. If he came nearer, if he took her in his arms, she would be unable to resist him. Her impulse was to fly, to lock herself in her room. But she could not drop the wounded dog on the deck, and Joey, satisfied by his master’s presence, snuggled up close to her breast, and made the most of his comfortable quarters. And now, while Courtenay stroked Joey with one hand, he placed the other on Elsie’s shoulder. What a plight for a frightened maid who wished to escape! Of course, because she wished that some one would come to her help, the deck was practically deserted. Certainly, Mr. Boyle did appear at the after end of the corridor; but he seemed to remember something strong and urgent which the crew ought to hear, and he turned back. And here was Courtenay speaking again, speaking in the slow and definite way of a man who was determined that there should be no lingering doubt as to his meaning. “I want you to listen to me, Elsie,” he said, with a passionate intensity that stilled the rising storm in her bosom. “Doctor Christobal may have pleaded his own cause already. It is not for me to cavil at him for doing that. But I cannot lose you without a word. Whether you marry him or me, or neither of us, I shall love you for ever. I want you to know that. It is no new discovery to me. I think my heart went out to you when I carried you in my arms through the gale, and since that hour you and I have had experiences denied to most men and women ere they reach the conclusion that they are fit mates for the voyage of life. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Have we known each other ten days, or ten years?” His face was very near to hers now. His arm had encroached so far that it was around her neck. It was quite dark where they stood in the shadow of the bridge. He could not see the tears in her eyes, but he heard her broken answer: “Are you—quite—fair—in using such words to me?” “Fair, Elsie! ‘Fair’ to whom?” “Because—oh, how can I tell you? Are you free to—to speak to me in this way?” “Elsie, I am pledged to no other woman, if that is what you mean. Who has been telling you otherwise?” “No one. Indeed, indeed, I alone am to blame. You will be angry with me, but I could not help it.”