"Why, certainly!" she cried. "So we're to have a mystery--just we two!" "Just we two!" I assented with a quickened pulse. She looked at me doubtfully for a moment. "I must remember Mr. Graham's warning," she said. "You haven't invented this astonishing story just to entertain me, Mr. Lester?" "On my word, no," I responded, a little bitterly. "I only wish I had!" "There," she said contritely; "I shouldn't have doubted! Forgive me, Mr. Lester. Only it seemed so fantastic--so improbable----" "It _is_ fantastic," I assented, "but, unfortunately, it is true. We must keep an eye on Monsieur Martigny or Bethune." "Which is his real name?" "Those are the only ones I know, but I doubt if either is the true one." Royce and Mrs. Kemball joined us a moment later, and we sat watching the low, distant Long Island shore until the gong summoned us to lunch. A word to the steward had secured us one of the small tables in an alcove at the side--Mrs. Kemball and her daughter surrendered the grandeurs of the captain's table willingly, even gladly, to minister to us--and the meal was a merry one, Mr. Royce seeming in such spirits that I was more than ever determined not to disturb him with the knowledge of Martigny's presence. As the moments passed, my fears seemed more and more uncalled for. It was quite possible, I told myself, that I had been making a bogy of my own imaginings. The Frenchman did not appear in the saloon, and, afterwards, an inquiry of the ship's doctor developed the fact that he was seriously ill, and quite unable to leave his state room. So afternoon and evening passed. There were others on board who claimed their share of the charming Mrs. Kemball and her daughter. Mr. Royce knew a few of them, too, and introduced me to them, but I found their talk somehow flat and savorless. I fancied that my companion looked slightly wearied, too, and at last we stole away to our deck chairs, where we sat for an hour or more looking out across the dancing waves, listening to the splash of the boat as she rose and fell over them. He was thinking, no doubt, of a certain dark beauty, whose caprices there was no explaining. As for me--well, I had suddenly developed a sturdy preference for blue eyes. * * * * * I may as well confess at once that I was seasick. It came next morning, ten minutes after I had left my berth--not a violent sickness, but a faintness and giddiness that made me long for my berth again. But Mr. Royce would not hear of it. He got me out on deck and into my chair, with the fresh breeze blowing full in my face. There was a long line of chairs drawn up there, and from the faces of most of their occupants, I judged they were far more miserable than I. At the end of an hour, thanks to this treatment, I felt almost well again, and could devour with some appetite the luncheon which Mr. Royce ordered for me.