k with kegs of wine
and tobacco for the seigneur, and to bring over whatever small cargo
might be waiting for Jersey. The yacht Dorset had aboard her the
Reverend Lorenzo Dow, an old friend of her commander. He was to be
dropped at Sark, and was to come back with Jean Touzel in the Hardi
Biaou, the matter having been arranged the evening before in the Vier
Marchi. The saucy yawl had aboard Maitresse Aimable, Guida, and a lad to
assist Jean in working the sails. Guida counted as one of the crew, for
there was little in the handling of a boat she did not know.

As the Hardi Biaou was leaving the harbour of St. Heliers, Jean told
Guida that Mr. Dow was to join them on the return journey. She had
a thrill of excitement, for this man was privy to her secret, he was
connected with her life history. But before the little boat passed St.
Brelade's Bay she was lost in other thoughts: in picturing Philip on the
Narcissus, in inwardly conning the ambitious designs of his career. What
he might yet be, who could tell? She had read more than a little of the
doings of great naval commanders, both French and British. She knew how
simple midshipmen had sometimes become admirals, and afterwards peers of
the realm.

Suddenly a new thought came to her. Suppose that Philip should rise to
high places, would she be able to follow? What had she seen--what did
she know--what social opportunities had been hers? How would she fit
with an exalted station?

Yet Philip had said that she could take her place anywhere with grace
and dignity; and surely Philip knew. If she were gauche or crude in
manners, he would not have cared for her; if she were not intelligent,
he would scarcely have loved her. Of course she had read French and
English to some purpose; she could speak Spanish--her grandfather had
taught her that; she understood Italian fairly--she had read it aloud
on Sunday evenings with the Chevalier. Then there were Corneille,
Shakespeare, Petrarch, Cervantes--she had read them all; and even Wace,
the old Norman trouvere, whose Roman de Rou she knew almost by heart.
Was she so very ignorant?

There was only one thing to do: she must interest herself in what
interested Philip; she must read what he read; she must study naval
history; she must learn every little thing about a ship of war. Then
Philip would be able to talk with her of all he did at sea, and she
would understand.

When, a few days ago, she had said to him that she did not kno