d the unsmiling youth looked at each other. "Why,
that's," said Gilmore, "entirely----"

"Practicable," said Hugh. He moved on, and into the passage. Gilmore,
following, stopped at its outer end. At the inner stood Hugh, waiting,
in shadow and with downcast eyes, for the song to be done. What unvoiced
supplication, if any, may have been behind the lips of either was not
for the other to know. Yet it was an hour of formidable besetments and
we may pardon the actor if an actor's self-consciousness moved him to
reflect that there were thousands of healthy men, some as raw as Hugh,
some as ripe as himself, who, for the sake of a promise, a wife or a
maiden, or even without them, standing thus, had prayed.

He tiptoed to the youth's side and together they leaned in enough to
look down the dimmed cabin, over ranks of silhouetted heads, to the
bright stage front and the singer. She was in the centre of its light
and the last notes of her simple song called for so little effort that
they only helped the eye to give itself wholly and instantly to the mere
picture of her, slender, golden, magnified by this sudden outburst into
blossom, and radiant with the tenderness of her words as a flower with
morning dew. The next moment she was bowing and withdrawing, aglow with
gratitude for an applause that came in volume as though for the finish
of a chariot-race, and Hugh saw as plainly as the experienced actor, if
not with as clear a recognition of Mrs. Gilmore's attiring skill, that
the tribute was at least as much to the singer as to the song.

The same perception came to Ramsey in the stateroom to which she had
returned and in which she stood alone, hearkening and trembling. She
noiselessly laughed for joy to be, however unworthily, the daughter of
Gideon Hayle, never doubting it was for his name, his blood, his
likeness, she stood thus approved. The conviction gave her better heart
for the task yet before her. She glided to the rear door, locked it, and
dropped to her knees.

"Oh, Lord 'a' mercy!" she murmured. "Oh, Basile, my brother! And oh,
mom-a, dear, brave mom-a!" She did not name her father, though his
figure was central in her imagination, broad, overtowering, intrepid,
imperious.

The applause persisted. Now it sank but at once it rose again, easy
overflow of a popular mind glad of all unrestraint and always ready--as
even she discerned--for the joy of exaggeration. She sprang up and moved
toward it, her eyes sparkling