She fancied, once or twice, that a glance from the oblique eyes rested on her with slow intentness. But when she looked again she saw that the glance was vacant of meaning and that it slipped past her and gazed out along the pathless sea to the west. “I cannot make him out!” she said to Richard. “Don’t you like him?” he demanded. “We will exchange him at Shanghai. There are always plenty to be had, I understand. But I thought the man seemed intelligent—and the boat gives us a little chance to get acquainted.” He looked at her keenly. “We don’t need to keep him, you know.” She wrinkled her eyes in a little perplexity, gazing at the figure that stood well to the front of the boat.... His back was turned to them and the wind blowing against the boat filled the blue coat and trousers like little balloons. One could fancy the thin yellow legs inside the balloons, holding like grim little steel pipes to the deck. There was a wiry strength in the man and a kind of gripping forcefulness that went oddly with the placid face and slow figure. “I don’t know what it is,” she said slowly. “I do not dislike him. But he makes me feel as if the world were queer—a little topsy-turvy, I think—almost as if I saw a pine-tree lift its roots out of the ground and go skipping along the grass!” Her husband laughed out. “Kou Ying doesn’t skip much!” “No.... His soul skips!” “All the better for us, isn’t it?” “Perhaps—” Her eyes brooded on the ballooning little figure, anchored to the deck. “No—Don’t send him away!” She shook her head with decision. “Well, I’m glad you like him. I fancy he’s going to be pretty useful to us later on.” He got up and strolled over to the man, and Eleanor More watched the two figures side by side—the tall, well-built American and the thin little figure of steel in its swelling, puffed-out garments. Presently they moved along the deck and passed out of sight. When they reappeared, at the other end of the boat, Eleanor was lying half-asleep, her eyes closed and her face very quiet. She opened her eyes, as they came up. The oblique gaze was looking down on her out of an impassive face. She smiled dreamily.... Now she understood. The man was journeying too. “This is Kou Ying,” said Richard casually. The Oriental made a gesture of service... and the pine-tree danced hazily before Eleanor’s eyes. She smiled a little. “You are going with us?” she asked. The stolid face had not changed. But something, far back in the eyes, responded to the smile. “As long as you need me, madam,” said the man courteously. “We are looking for a coat,” said Richard. “Hadn’t you told him?” asked Eleanor, a little astonished. She sat up in her chair. “No. I waited—to be sure.” The Chinese eyes regarded him, incurious and quiet. “We saw a coat, several years ago,” said Richard, addressing them. “A coat that we should like to find—or one like it.” “A mandarin coat?” asked the man quietly. “No-o—I don’t think so. It was longer——”