"I have called for Miss West to take her to the steamer. Will you please see if she is ready?" "Oh, Lor', sir!" tittered the maid. "I have called for Miss West," he repeated, more sternly. "Can you inform me if she is ready?" The maid bridled resentfully at his impatient air. "Why, lawk a mercy, she was ready ages ago, mister!" she said, tartly. "Then ask her to come out, if you please. We have barely half an hour to go on board," he said, glancing hurriedly at his watch. "I can't ask her. She is not here," was the answer. "Not here? then where--" he began, but the pert maid interrupted him: "Lor', sir, Miss West went down to the steamer two hours ago." An audible titter accompanied the information. Lancaster bounded down the steps without a word, sprung into his carriage, and slammed the door with a vim. "Drive down to the steamer just as fast as you can, coachman!" he hallooed, sharply. CHAPTER X. De Vere stared in wonder when his friend scrambled up the plank alone with his beautiful bouquet. He was not a minute too soon, for in an instant the gang-plank was hauled in, and they were outward bound on the dark-blue sea. "Halloo!" shouted the lieutenant, sauntering up; "where's the precious babe?" His air of unfeigned surprise was most exasperating to Lancaster in his disappointed mood. He was about to exclaim, "Hang the babe!" but recollected himself just in time to glance around at the passengers on deck. No, she was not there, the pretty American maid who was so gracefully independent. "Gone to her state-room, probably," he thought, with profound chagrin, and leaning over the railing, pitched his fragrant exotics impulsively into the sea. "So much for my foolish gallantry to Mrs. West's niece," he said to himself, hotly. Raising his eyes then, he met De Vere's stare of wonder. "Have you gone clean daft, my dear captain?" inquired he. "I don't know why you should think so," said Lancaster, nettled. "From your looks, man. You come flying up the gang-way, breathless, and when I ask you a question you stare around distractedly, and run to the railing to pitch over one of the sweetest bouquets I ever laid eyes on. Now, what am I to think of you, really?" He laughed, and Lancaster, trampling his vexation under-foot, laughed too. He was vexed with himself that he had let Leonora West put him out so. "I beg your pardon for my rudeness," he said. "I will explain. You see, I was so busy all day that I only had time at the last to jump into a carriage and call for Miss West. Then I was detained by an impertinent servant who, after ten minutes of stupid jargon, told me that my charge had gone down to the steamer two hours before. So then we had not a minute to spare, and of course I was flurried when I came aboard." "But the bouquet?" suggested De Vere, curiously. "Oh, I bought that for my charge," replied Lancaster, airily.