"He will come on board; he will demand an explanation; he will insist on seeing you!" she cried. "_Let_ him!" said Peter. "You are brave--braver even than I thought; but, ah! Peter, you don't know what Alfred is!" Peter did not even know who Alfred was, but he was unmoved. "You leave Alfred to me," he said confidently, "I'll settle _him_!" "But I must tell you all. I--I led you to believe that Alfred would raise no objections; that he would quietly accept facts which it is useless to contend against. He will do nothing of the sort! He is a man of violent passions--fierce and relentless when wronged. In the first burst of fury at meeting you, when he comes on board, he is capable of some terrible vengeance, which nothing but perfect coolness on your part--perhaps not even that--will be able to avert. And I--I have brought this upon you!" "Don't cry," said Peter. "You see, I'm perfectly calm. _I_ don't mind it. If Alfred considers himself wronged by me--though, what I have ever done to give him any reason for revenging himself by personal violence, I must say I can't conceive----" She stopped him. "Ah! you have given him cause enough!" she cried. "What is the use of taking that tone to me?" "I want to see Alfred's point of view, that's all," said Peter. "What does he complain of?" "_What does he complain of?_ You ask me that, when---- Peter," she broke off suddenly, "there is somebody round the corner listening to us--a woman, I'm sure of it. I heard the rustle of a dress.... Go and see if there is not!" Go and see, and find himself face to face with Miss Tyrrell, who might faint or go into hysterics: Peter knew better than that. "It's merely your fancy," he said, soothingly, "Who can be there? They are all at the other end of the ship, dancing. Go on telling me about Alfred. I don't yet understand how I have managed to offend him." "Are you really so dull," she said, with a slight touch of temper, "that you can't see that a man who thought he was going to meet the woman he was engaged to, and finds she has learnt to care for--for somebody else, is likely, even if he was the mildest man in the world--which Alfred is far from being--to betray some annoyance?" "No, I see that," said Peter; "but--but he can't blame me. _I_ couldn't help it!" He said this, although her last speech had opened his eyes considerably: he knew now who Alfred was, and also that, in some moment of madness which was in one of the quarters of an hour he had not yet drawn, he must have placed himself in the position of Alfred's rival. What was he to do? He could not, without brutality, tell this poor girl that he had not the smallest intention of depriving Alfred of her affections; it was better, and easier too, to humour her for the short time that remained.