“Quite; she smiled just as she did when she came down in the country to take me away to join mother. I liked her smile then, but I don’t now.” “Ronny,” said his father, taking his hand and leading him aft, “I want you to promise me something; will you?” “Yes, father,” said the boy promptly, looking straight at him with eyes that never lied. “Then you must never leave this deck for the lower one, whether in the steerage or amidships. It’s quite big enough for a little fellow like you. You promise me?” “Yes, father,” said Ronny, and he kept his word to something more than the letter, limiting his excursions forward to the capstan some distance from the steerage end. Perhaps he would not have gone so far, but it was here his friend the bos’n’, when his turn came, kept his watch, and sitting there Ronny was careful to turn his back upon the bow, so that by no chance might he again see that evil face with the smile he, though all unused to the world, recognized as false. On this bright evening off Queenstown Ronny was in a condition of special glee. Jacynth had put in the sweepstakes on the day’s run a sovereign in the name of Ronny, and Ronny had won the stake. “Good gracious!” cried Jacynth, holding him at arm’s length, “what on earth is a little mite like you going to do with £50?” “I know,” said Ronny, his eyes beaming with delight. “I remember when we were staying at Harrogate having a ride in a donkey chaise. It was very nice, but mother told me that the donkeys here are nothing like what grow in the streets of Cairo. When she was there she had two white donkeys as tall as a horse, with beautiful ears as long as my arm, and great brown eyes that look at you as if they wondered whether you could be so cruel as to want them to trot through dusty streets on a hot day. Mother often said she would like to have a pair of donkeys like she had in Cairo. ‘Pharaoh’ and ‘Rameses’ were their names, together with a little carriage to hold her and me. I’ll buy her the whole turnout with my £50, and we’ll go driving about all by ourselves through Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, and Sark.” “Well, that’s pretty selfish of you,” said Jacynth, who keenly realized the joys of the situation as pictured by the boy, only he would liked to have rearranged the company behind “Rameses and Pharaoh.” They were all and always thinking of a woman waiting and watching in Guernsey. Lord Francis, with wistful eyes, thought of love, Jacynth with dumb, gnawing pain, Ronny with eager desire to see her smile, hear her voice, and feel her arms sheltering him, Lord Castleton having some doubt as to whether she was worthy of it all, and Mme. de Vigny---- Well, Mme. de Vigny did not talk of the direction her thoughts took.