for a voyage of great length, and he had been
shanghaied out of sincere kindness.

It had not occurred to either the captain or the physician that the
situation could outlast the voyage. The man had a fractured skull, and
he might die, or he might recover; but one or the other he must do,
and that presumably before the completion of the trip across the
Atlantic. That he should remain in a comatose state for days proved
mildly surprising and interesting to the physician, but that at the
end of this time he should suffer a long attack of brain fever was an
unexpected development. Saxon knew nothing of his journeying, and his
only conversation was that of delirium. He owed his life to the skill
and vigilance of the doctor, who had seen and treated human ills under
many crude conditions, and who devoted himself with absorption to the
case. Neither the physician nor the captain knew that the man had
once been called Robert Saxon. There was nothing to identify him. He
had come aboard in the riding clothes borrowed from the lockers of the
_Phyllis_, and his pockets held only a rusty key, some American gold
and a little South American silver. Without name or consciousness or
baggage, he was slowly crossing the Atlantic.

Other clothing was provided, and into the newer pockets Captain Harris
and Dr. Cornish scrupulously transferred these articles. That Carter,
if he recovered, could reimburse the skipper was never questioned. If
he died, the care given him would be charged to the account of
humanity, together with other services this rough man had rendered in
his diversified career.

Meanwhile, on the steamer _Orinoco_, the girl was finding her clear,
unflinching courage subjected to the longest, fiercest siege of
suspense, and Steele tried in every possible manner to comfort the
afflicted girl in this time of her trial and to alleviate matters with
optimistic suggestions. M. Herve was in great distress over having
been the unwitting cause of fears which he hoped the future would
clear away. His aloofness had ended, and, like Steele, he attached
himself to her personal following, and sought with a hundred polite
attentions to mitigate what he regarded as suffering of his
authorship. Duska's impulse had been to leave the vessel at the first
American port, but Steele had dissuaded her. His plan was to wire to
Kentucky at the earliest possible moment, and learn whether there had
been any message from Saxon. Failing in that, he