“Well,” said the commander with a pleasant laugh, “my name is Julian Savine, and I have been hoping that I should come across you for a long while. It is quite likely you have heard Miss Harding mention me.” Appleby felt the blood creep into his face, and recognized that this was the last thing he could have wished for, but he met Savine’s gaze steadily. “I have,” he said slowly. “I fancy Miss Harding has shown herself a good friend to me.” Savine stretched out a brown hand. “Well,” he said, “I hope you will also count me in. And now, if you will excuse me, I have something to tell my lieutenant. In the meanwhile I’ll send the steward along.” He went out, and Harper grinned at Appleby. “That,” he said reflectively, “is the kind of man we raise in my country. He has heard about the night you took her in. The question is how much did Miss Harding know or think fit to tell him?” “Yes,” said Appleby grimly, “it is just that point which is worrying me.” The steward brought them in a meal, but it was a little while before Savine appeared again. He opened a box of cigars, and though he said nothing that seemed to indicate that Harper’s company was not altogether necessary the latter rose. “I guess I’ll go out and see how she’s getting along,” he said. Then there was a little silence, until Appleby glanced at the commander. “I have been thinking hard during the last half‐hour, and I am now going to tell you exactly what happened on the night I met Miss Harding in Santa Marta,” he said. “I scarcely think you have heard it in quite the same shape before, and I was not sure that it would have been altogether advisable a little while ago.” “I don’t know that it is necessary. Still, you might go on.” Appleby told his story with almost brutal frankness, and then looked the commander in the eyes. “If you have the slightest doubt on any point you may never have such an opportunity of getting rid of it again,” he said. Savine smiled a little, though there was the faintest tinge of darker color in his bronzed cheek. “I never had any, and now there is nothing I could do which would quite wipe out the obligation I feel I am under to you,” he said. He stopped with a curious little gleam in his eyes, and Appleby felt that he had made another friend who would not fail him. Then he turned the conversation, and Savine told him that he was engaged on special service on the Cuban coast when he saw the boat and decided to intercept her in the hope of acquiring information. Hostilities were certain, but he hoped to put his guests on board a steamer he expected to fall in with on the morrow. XXXIII — VIOLET REGAINS HER LIBERTY