But she couldn’t send him away with any added doubts to trouble the several months’ voyage during which no news of any sort could reach him, and in which he would have no one from his old life to say a cheerful word. “You mustn’t let your mind dwell on that possibility, Tom,” she said, earnestly. “Sun Li will have something good to tell you. I—I just _feel_ he will. You know how powerful a governor is, in China.” Neither she nor Tommy knew a thing about his powers, but it sounded likely, and she saw with satisfaction that the boy’s set face had relaxed a little at her words. There was no time to say more then, for they were at the door of Mrs. Haven’s imposing red-brick house on the corner, and Erica bade Tommy leave her there at the steps while he went up to deliver his message. She was in no mood, just then, for meeting strangers. Evidently the lady herself came to the door at his knock, for Erica, below in the shadows, heard a brisk duet of voices asking and answering questions—Tommy’s and a soft, rich, jolly sort of voice that must be that of the _Spray’s_ belated passenger. Then Tommy came running down again, and the jolly, chuckly voice called after him gayly: “If I had only known there was to be a nice boy like you on board, I vow I’d have brought my nephew along for company. He fair pestered the life out of me last vacation to take him to Canton.” “I suppose it’s too late now?” Tommy paused halfway down to suggest. The idea of another boy of his own age evidently appealed to him. The lady said she was afraid it was too late, and went back into the house, calling out that she’d see him in the morning, only that six o’clock was a heathenish hour to expect anyone to be packed and down at the wharf ready for a journey. “She seems a good-natured sort of person, but silly,” Tommy observed, sagely, to Erica, as they retraced their steps to Cousin Kate’s door. “She’s the kind that gushes over everything a body says, and squeaks ‘oh!’ and ‘la!’ and talks about the sea being romantic. Huh!” Tommy, used to the New England control and measured speech of his mother and aunt, was divided between disgust and amusement over this very different type. “She’s a funny one,” he decided. “Rich and spoiled, I guess. Used to having her own way and carrying out any old whim that strikes her. There wasn’t a real reason in the world why she needed to have a special boat sent for her in the morning instead of coming on board tonight like the others.” Afterward Erica always insisted that she went to sleep that night without a conscious thought, at least, of the impulsive, crazy plan she was to plunge into before sunrise the next morning. As far as she could trace it, it began with a singularly vivid dream.