. But what legend ever cared for a
comma, or reached a full stop? If you go to Cologne, the verger of the
Church of St. Ursula will show you the bones of the whole party in
glass cases, and, equally amazing, the town of Baoza in Spain claims to
be the birthplace of the lot. Clearly, Magellan had a man from Baoza
on board his ship."

"All mail steamers ought to provide a lecturer on things in general and
interesting places passed in particular," said Isobel.

Dr. Christobal bowed.

"I am sure that some of the officers of the _Orellana_ could have told
you the history of Cape Virgins, but they, not to mention the other
young gentlemen in the passenger list, would certainly find you better
sport than puzzling your pretty head about the ship's landmarks."

"I also came out on the _Orellana_, but there was no Miss Baring to be
seen," murmured the Frenchman.

"You had a dull trip, I take it?" said the doctor, quietly.

"I was very ill," was the response; but, after a stare of surprise, he
joined in the resultant laugh quite good-naturedly.

"It is a standing joke that my countrymen are poor sailors," he
protested, "and that is strange, don't you think, seeing that France
has the second largest navy in the world?"

"Console yourself, monsieur," said Christobal. "Three great
sea-captains, Nelson, Cook, and, it is said, Columbus himself, always
paid tribute to Neptune. And, if I am not mistaken," he added,
glancing through the port windows, "we shall all have our stamina
tested before twenty-four hours have passed."

Heads were turned and necks craned to see what had induced this
unexpected prophecy. Behind the distant coast-line the inner giants of
the Andes threw heavenward their rugged outlines, with many a peak and
glacier glinting in vivid colors against a sky so clear and blue that
they seemed strangely near.

"Yes, this wonderful atmosphere of ours is enchanting," said the
doctor, when assailed by a chorus of doubts. "But it carries its
deceptive smiles too far. The very beauty of the Cordillera is a sign
of storm. I am sorry to be a croaker; yet we are running into a gale."

"I shall ask the captain," pouted Isobel, rising.

The Count twisted his mustache. He knew that both ladies were in the
forbidden territory of the bridge when the fracas occurred.

"You, perhaps, are a good sailor?" said he, addressing Elsie.

"I am afraid to boast," she answered. "I have been in what was called
a Number E