uldn't deduce too much from a single instance.
Besides, that Pole's case hasn't cost me anything yet."

Mrs. Hastings joined them, and when Wyllard strolled away the women
passed some time leaning on the rails, and looking at the groups of
shadowy figures on the forward deck. The attitude of the steerage
passengers was dejected and melancholy, but one cluster had gathered
around a man who stood upon the hatch.

"Oh," he declared, "you'll have no trouble. Canada's a great country for
a poor man. He can sleep beneath a bush all summer, if he can't strike
anything he likes."

This did not appear particularly encouraging, but the orator went on:
"Been over for a trip to the Old Country, and I'm glad I'm going back
again. Went out with nothing except a good discharge, and they made me
Sergeant of Canadian Militia. After that I was armorer to a rifle club.
There's places a blame long way behind the Dominion, and I struck one of
them when we went with Roberts to Afghanistan. It was on that trip I and
a Pathan rolled all down a hill, him trying to get his knife arm loose,
and me jabbing his breastbone with my bayonet before I got it into him.
I drove it through to the socket. You want to make quite sure of a
Pathan."

Miss Rawlinson winced at this. "Oh," she cried, "what a horrible man!"

"It was 'most as tough as when you went after Riel, and stole the
Scotchman's furs," suggested a Canadian.

The sergeant let the jibe go by. He said: "Louis's bucks could shoot! We
had them corraled in a pit, and every time one of the boys from Montreal
broke cover he got a bullet into him. Did any of you ever hear a dropped
man squeal?"

Agatha had heard sufficient, and she and her companions turned away, but
as they moved across the deck the sergeant's voice followed her.

"Oh, yes," he said, "a grand country for a poor man. In the summer he
can sleep beneath a bush."

For some reason this eulogy haunted Agatha when she retired to her
stateroom that night, and she wondered what awaited all those aliens in
the new land. It occurred to her that in some respects she was situated
very much as they were. For the first time, vague misgivings crept into
her mind as she realized that she had cut herself adrift from all to
which she had been accustomed. She felt suddenly depressed and lonely.

The depression had, however, almost vanished when, awakening rather
early next morning, she went up on deck. A red sun hung over the
tumbling seas