She trembled a little and drew the casement in. The lantern was flickering dimly, casting strange patches of shadow, which danced upon the beams and bulkhead. If monsieur loved her she would learn it from his own lips. If this were so, and she had not read him amiss, ’twas but a paltry excuse for a man of his birth and attainments to throw away his life at this wild calling, to the end that a silly person (who merited nothing) might continue to enjoy the benefits he could thus relinquish. He should not leave her again. At whatever cost he must return to London. The estates were his, and nothing save his death could give her any right to them. She was warm and cold by turns. She must gain time to win him over, dissimulate, deceive him if necessary. It might, perhaps, be accomplished; a look or a gesture, a speech with a hidden meaning (however at variance with the fact) which might give him hope that she was no longer indifferent to him. Then, perhaps, she might draw aside the mask. He would be tractable and perhaps even pliant. Ah, she must act well her part, with all her subtle woman’s weapons of offense; conceal her feelings (however at variance with the actual performance), that he might not question her integrity. He was clever and keen. It would call for all the refinements of her arts. Were she not to throw a depth of meaning into her play of the rôle he would learn of the fraud and all her labors would be at naught. Despicable as the task would be (what _could_ be more despicable than mock coquetry?), she must go through it in the same spirit with which she had entered upon this quest. There would be no need, of course, to promise anything (what would there be to promise?), and, when the time was come, she could go out of his life as speedily as she had come into it. Far into the night she thought and planned, while she watched the guttering lamps and the wavering shadows, until at last weariness fell heavily upon her eyelids and she slept. The cabin was aflood with light when she awoke. There was a sound of rushing feet overhead, the clatter of heavy boots, and the rattle of blocks and spars. Hoarse orders rang forward and aft, and the very air seemed aquiver with import. Deep down in the bowels of the vessel below her she heard the jangling of arms and the jarring of heavy objects. She started up, half in wonder, half in fear, and rushed to the port by the bulkhead.