sitting by the window reading, rose upon the mate's
entrance, and, observing that he was alone, evinced a little surprise as
she shook hands with him. It was the one thing necessary to complete his
discomfiture, and he stood before her in a state of guilty confusion.

"Cap'n Flower couldn't come," he stammered.

The girl said nothing, but with her dark eyes fixed upon his flushed
face waited for him to continue.

"It's his misfortune that he couldn't come," con-tinued Fraser, jerkily.

"Business, I suppose?" said the girl, after another wait. "Won't you sit
down?"

"Bad business," replied Fraser. He sat down, and fancied he saw the way
clear before him.

"You've left him on the _Foam_, I suppose?" said Poppy, seeing that she
was expected to speak.

"No; farther back than that," was the response.

"Seabridge?" queried the girl, with an air of indifference.

Fraser regarded her with an expression of studied sadness. "Not so far
back as that," he said, softly.

Miss Tyrell manifested a slight restlessness. "Is it a sort of riddle?"
she demanded.

"No, it's a tale," replied Fraser, not without a secret admiration of
his unsuspected powers of breaking bad news; "a tale with a bad ending."

The girl misunderstood him. "If you mean that Captain Flower doesn't
want to come here, and sent you to say so--" she began, with dignity.

"He can't come," interrupted the mate, hastily.

"Did he send you to tell me?" she asked

Fraser shook his head mournfully. "He can't come," he said, in a low
voice; "he had a bad foot--night before last he was standing on the
ship's side--when he lost his hold--"

He broke off and eyed the girl nervously, "and fell overboard," he
concluded.

Poppy Tyrell gave a faint cry and, springing to her feet, stood with her
hand on the back of her chair regarding him. "Poor fellow," she said,
softly--"poor fellow."

She sat down again by the open window and nervously plucked at the
leaves of a geranium. Her face was white and her dark eyes pitiful and
tender. Fraser, watching her, cursed his resourceful skipper and hated
himself.

"It's a terrible thing for his friends," said Poppy, at length. "And for
you," said Fraser, respectfully.

"I am very grieved," said Poppy, quietly; "very shocked and very
grieved."

"I have got strong hopes that he may have got picked up," said Fraser,
cheerfully; "very strong hopes, I threw him a life-belt, and though we
got the boat out and pulled about,