earance. She was, so to speak, always cleared for action, for love or
war. She twisted her dark tresses in a knot, thrust a great
tortoise-shell comb into them, unlocked the door and went out.

It was thus she came up the stairs into the lighted saloon and
encountered the steward, who was laying the table for supper. He was
leaning over the table setting out knives and forks. He looked over his
shoulder and saw a face of extraordinary loveliness and pallor, with
dark purple rings under the amber eyes, coming up out of the gloom of
the stairway. He dropped the things in his hands with a clatter and
whirled round upon her, his jaw hanging, his hands clutching the table.

"Sh-h!" she said, coming up into the room and advancing upon him with
her finger to her lips. "Who are you?" she added in Greek.

He was about to answer that he was the steward, in spite of the obvious
injustice of such a query, when the outer door leading to the deck was
opened and the young man named Amos appeared with a tray of dishes. He
stepped into the little pantry to set down his burden and then made a
profound obeisance.

"Tch!" said the lady, "Who is this?"

"The pantryman, Madama."

"Tell him to fill my lamp with oil."

"Your lamp, Madama?" quavered the steward. "Is Madama in the Captain's
room? I have not been told."

Evanthia beckoned Amos and pointed down the stairs. "The room on the
right," she said. "Fill the lamp with oil and light it. Make the bed.
Go!"

She watched him descend.

"Now," she said to the steward, "is this the way you attend to
passengers? Bring me some meat. I am starving."

"Yes, yes! In a moment, Madama." He hurried to and fro, twisting the end
seat for her to take it, dashing into his pantry and bringing out
dishes, a cruet, a napkin. Evanthia seated herself and began to devour a
piece of bread. She watched the steward as he moved to and fro.

"Where is the captain?" she asked.

"In his room, Madama. He has eaten and now he sleeps till midnight."

"And the officer?"

"He is on the bridge, Madama."

"Who eats here?"

"The officer and the engineer."

"Is the Engineer English?"

"Maltese, Madama."

The man spoke in low, respectful tones, his eyes flickering up and down
as he sought to scan her features. This was most marvellous, he was
thinking. The new chief officer brings a woman, a ravishing creature, on
board in secret. This explains the abuse of the morning. What would the
captain say? He mu