These were better days for Paul. Each hour brought him back some health and vigour. Youth and strength were asserting their own again, and the absence of familiar objects, and the glory of the air and the blue sea helped sometimes to deaden the poignant agony of his aching heart. But there it was underneath, an ever-present, dull anguish. And only when he became sufficiently strong to help the sailors with the ropes, and exert physical force, did he get one moment's respite. The two elder men watched him with kind, furtive eyes, but they never questioned him, or made the slightest allusion to his travels. And the first day they heard him laugh Sir Charles looked down at the white foam because a mist was in his eyes. They had coasted round Italy and Sicily, and not among the Ionian Isles, as had been Captain Grigsby's intention. "I fancy the lady came from some of those Balkan countries," Sir Charles had said. "Don't let us get in touch with even the outside of one of them." And Mark Grigsby had grunted an assent. "The boy is a fine fellow," he said one morning as they looked at Paul hauling ropes. "He'll probably never get quite over this, but he is fighting like a man, Charles--tell me as much as you feel inclined to of the story." So Sir Charles began in his short, broken sentences: "Parson's girl to start with--sympathy over a broken collar-bone. The wife behaved unwisely about it, so the boy thought he was in love. We sent him to travel to get rid of that idea. It appears he met this lady in Lucerne--seems to have been an exceptional person--a Russian, Tompson says--a Queen or Princess _incog.,_ the fellow tells me--but I can't spot her as yet. Hubert will know who she was, though--but it does not matter--the woman herself was the thing. Gather she was quite a remarkable woman--ten years older than Paul." "Always the case," growled Captain Grigsby. Sir Charles puffed at his pipe--and then: "They were only together three weeks," he said. "And during that time she managed to cram more knowledge of everything into the boy's head than you and I have got in a lifetime. Give you my word, Grig, when he was off his chump in the fever, he raved like a poet, and an orator, and he was only an ordinary sportsman when he left home in the spring! Cleopatra, he called her one day, and I fancy that was the keynote--she must have been one of those exceptional women we read of in the sixth form." "And fortunately never met!" said Captain Grigsby. "I don't know," mused Sir Charles. "It might have been good to live as wildly even at the price. We've both been about the world, Grig, since the days we fastened on our cuirasses together for the first time, and each thought himself the devil of a fine fellow--but I rather doubt if we now know as much of what is really worth having as my boy there--just twenty-three years old." "Nonsense!" snapped Captain Grigsby--but there was a tone of regret in his protest.