go with any one else. When her
mother said that she had better sit still she answered:

'But, mother, I am quite safe with The Man!' 'The Man' was the name she
had given Harold, and by which she always now spoke of him. They had had
a good many turns together, and Harold had, with the captain's
permission, taken her up on the bridge and showed her how to look out
over the 'dodger' without the wind hurting her eyes. Then came the
welcome beef-tea hour, and all who had come on deck were cheered and
warmed with the hot soup. Pearl went below, and Harold, in the shelter
of the charthouse, together with a good many others, looked out over the
wild sea.

Harold, despite the wild turmoil of winds and seas around him, which
usually lifted his spirits, was sad, feeling lonely and wretched; he was
suffering from the recoil of his little friend's charming presence. Pearl
came on deck again looking for him. He did not see her, and the child,
seeing an opening for a new game, avoided both her father and mother, who
also stood in the shelter of the charthouse, and ran round behind it on
the weather side, calling a loud 'Boo!' to attract Harold's attention as
she ran.

A few seconds later the _Scoriac_ put her nose into a coming wave at just
the angle which makes for the full exercise of the opposing forces. The
great wave seemed to strike the ship on the port quarter like a giant
hammer; and for an instant she stood still, trembling. Then the top of
the wave seemed to leap up and deluge her. The wind took the flying
water and threw it high in volumes of broken spray, which swept not only
the deck but the rigging as high as the top of the funnels. The child
saw the mass of water coming, and shrieking flew round the port side of
the charthouse. But just as she turned down the open space between it
and the funnel the vessel rolled to starboard. At the same moment came a
puff of wind of greater violence than ever. The child, calling out, half
in simulated half in real fear, flew down the slope. As she did so the
gale took her, and in an instant whirled her, almost touching her mother,
over the rail into the sea.

Mrs. Stonehouse shrieked and sprang forward as though to follow her
child. She was held back by the strong arm of her husband. They both
slipped on the sloping deck and fell together into the scuppers. There
was a chorus of screams from all the women present. Harold, with an
instinctive understanding of th