Mirko engaged him in conversation, and Ragna thus had time to steady her voice and regain control over her excited nerves. The effort was good for her, and she was glad of the Captain's arrival. So was the Prince, for the good man's coming tided over an awkward moment, as the "voyage de retour" is bound to be--however short the journey may have been. "To-morrow, our journey together will be over," said the Captain. "To-morrow morning you will wake at Christiansand, after that little Ragna and I go on to Molde alone--if we pick up no other passengers. I am sorry Your Highness leaves us so soon--if ever you should wish a cruise in northern waters, the old _Norje_ and I are at your service, Prince!" "Thank you, Captain Petersen," said Mirko, "I have enjoyed this little trip exceedingly, thanks to your kind attentions and to Mademoiselle, and I wish I might promise to renew it in the near future--but I am not entirely my own master, you know." Presently the Captain remarked that it was growing late, and Ragna, rising, said she would go to bed. The Captain wished her a hearty, if gruff "Good-night," but Mirko walked with her to the companion-way, and after kissing her hand, held it while he murmured in a low voice: "You will never forget this evening, nor shall I--dear!" With a final pressure he released her hand and Ragna went slowly down. Captain Petersen grumbled to himself as he watched them. "Pity the fellow is a Prince. Handsome couple they would make, handsome couple! After all, who knows, little Ragna is as pretty as a princess--he might do worse!" Prince Mirko returned to him fumbling vainly in his pockets. "Have you a match about you, Captain?" he asked, "I must have left my box below." On a former occasion he had offered the Captain a cigarette from his case, but the old sea-dog had refused it, explaining that he would get no good out of a little paper stick, a pipe was the thing for him. The Captain produced a box of matches and the Prince lit his cigarette. Seeing him disinclined for further conversation, the old sailor left him, and Mirko, leaning both elbows on the rail enjoyed his smoke while he reviewed the events of the evening. In his innermost heart he was a little ashamed of having given way to an impulse but then, he reflected complacently, there was no real harm done, and after all, what is a kiss? He was rather amazed at himself for giving the slightest importance to the occurrence. His thoughts turned again to Ragna.