Hoskins, who was endowed with a good baritone, sang quaint Burmese songs with gratifying effect. There was something weird and yet musical in the solemn and majestic “Toung Soboo Byne,” or “Yama Kyo,” from a native opera, and the Royal boat song as sung by the King’s boatmen when rowing His Majesty on State occasions. Mrs. Maitland’s contribution was a beautifully trained light soprano, but the Caruso of the company was Herr Otto Bernhard; amazing that a man of his sensual nature and proclivities should be gifted with a voice fit to swell heaven’s choir. He sang Wagner, Gounod, Schubert with absolute impartiality, as well as numbers of melting German _lieder_ and touching English ballads. He brought smarting tears to the eyes of comfortable matrons, and swept their thoughts back to poignant moments of long ago—to youth and first love, to moonlight nights, entrancing meetings and heart-rending farewells! As for the younger and less emotional generation, even they were moved out of their everyday composure and hung upon the singer’s words with breathless appreciation. There was a number of young people on board the _Blankshire_, and since the good old days of Tadpool Shafto had never enjoyed himself so thoroughly. It was the first time since he had arrived at man’s estate that he had been associated with girls of his own class. There were no fewer than thirty on board—of these, eleven were brides elect—but the prettiest of all, and to him the most attractive, was Miss Leigh. He looked for her the first thing when he stepped on deck in the mornings, and in the evenings watched her departure with wistful regret. Meanwhile, between morning and evening he contrived to see as much of the young lady as possible—though when out of sight she was never absent from his mind. “Was he about to fall in love?” He was conscious of a vague wonder and sense of alarm. A hopeless attachment would be a fatal misfortune to a fellow beginning a new life; a life that required the whole of his mind and the best of his energies; but, like the moth and the candle, he still continued to hover round Miss Leigh—and Miss Leigh was not averse to his society. Together they talked and argued, played quoits and danced. A stern, inward voice assured Shafto that, luckily for him, there was a fixed date for the terminating of his enchantment—the day when the _Blankshire_ entered the Irrawaddy river and was moored to her berth. Then Miss Leigh would go her way to be the joy and the light of wealthy relatives—he, to begin his new work at the very bottom of the ladder. Another voice also made itself heard, which said: “One is young but once! Make the most of these shining hours; sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”