ut not cool--ugh!" for the scuttle being shut, that peculiar close
odour which seems inseparable from all ship cabins, and is in its
insufferable fugginess suggestive of seasickness, struck them in full
blast.

"I'm glad I'm not going with you," said Mrs Aldridge. "I never could
stand the sea. I declare I'm beginning to feel queer already."

"Oh no. All imagination," said Violet, gaily, flinging open the
scuttle.

"And now, dear," went on the old lady, "I suppose we haven't many
minutes more together. I needn't tell you how glad I have been to have
had you with me, and Chris. Selwood will like to know that I saw you
off, bright and cheerful."

Violet kissed her heartily. A strange compunction came over the girl.
The old lady had been very kind to her during her brief stay. Mrs
Aldridge was a relation of Selwood's, and to her care Violet had been
consigned for the few days during which the _Siberian_ should be lying
in Cape Town docks. Upon which good ship Selwood had safely conveyed
her, having, at considerable inconvenience to himself, escorted her to
Port Elizabeth, and seen the last of her safe on board.

"Oh, where is my brown hold-all?" cried Violet, suddenly looking round.
"It contains all my wraps--sunshade--everything. Dear Mrs Aldridge, do
wait here and mount guard over my things while I go up and find it. The
stewards are so careless. Besides, they might put some one else in the
cabin, and then it wouldn't be so easy to get them out."

As Violet gained the deck, the short sharp strokes of the ship's bell
rang out its warning summons. The "seeing-off" contingent must prepare
to go ashore, unless it would risk an involuntary voyage. Mrs
Aldridge, naturally prone to flurry, sitting there among Violet's boxes
and bundles, started at the sound.

"Oh dear! I shall be carried to sea!" she ejaculated, piteously. "Why
doesn't she come?"

Minutes slipped by, and still Violet did not appear. Again rang out the
sharp imperative strokes of the bell.

"I must go and look for her," cried the old lady, starting up with that
intent. Peering wildly around she reached the deck. Still no sign of
Violet.

Two great red conveyances, each drawn by four horses, came clattering up
the jetty. They were the mail carts. With lightning swiftness their
contents were transferred to the deck and to the hold. The captain,
resplendent in buttons and gold lace, was on the bridge. The steam-pipe
was roaring as