el cleaves up a rushing lustrous wave on
either side, and streaming afar in her wake lies a broad band of milky
phosphorescent whiteness, striving to rival the very heavens in the
starry atoms gleaming in its depths. The tall, tapering masts reel
wildly against the spangled sky, and the harsh clang of the labouring
engines make weird harmony with the thunderous throb of the propeller as
the great ship drives in her power before the chasing billows.

On the hurricane deck, under the lee of one of the boats swung inward
and resting on chocks, leaning over the taffrail, stand two figures--one
tall, powerful, masculine--wrapped in a long ulster, the other lithe,
graceful, feminine--cloaked and hooded, for, if the atmosphere contains
no chill, it holds a dampness which bids fair to do duty for the same.
Surely that oval face, those delicate, regular features can belong to no
other than Violet Avory. No need to identify her companion.

"You did that well, Violet," Sellon was saying. "The idea of that old
party sitting there mounting guard over your wraps on board the wrong
ship is a reminiscence that'll set me up in laughter for the rest of my
life."

"Poor old Mrs Aldridge," said Violet, with a touch of compunction.
"I'm afraid she won't get over it in a hurry--and she's a good old
thing. But it's all Hilda Selwood's fault. She shouldn't have set her
relations on to `police' me." And the speaker's tone became hard and
defiant.

"Ha, ha! It wasn't in them to upset our little programme, though. When
old Selwood put you on board the _Siberian_ at Fort Elizabeth, he
reckoned it was all safe then. So it was, as far as he was concerned.
He's a good chap, though, is Selwood, and I wouldn't willingly plant
such a sell upon him if I could help it, but I couldn't. It's ever a
case of two `sells' as between him and me, to distort his old joke. It
was nearly a third one, though, Violet, for I was beginning to make up
my mind you were never coming. In another minute I should have gone
ashore again when I saw your cab tearing along like mad. As it was, we
only fetched the _Rangatira_ by the skin of our teeth, and a royal
honorarium to the boatmen."

"Ah, Maurice, I have got you now--and you are mine. Are you not,
darling?"

"It looks uncommonly like it."

"For life?"

"For that identical period. So now, cheer up, my Violet. The world is
a mere football at the feet of those who have the means to exploit it,
and w