p me." And then the last barrier gave way,
and the floods swept down and immersed speech for the moment.

"Oh, come! Brace up, little girl." His voice was all kindness now. "If
you're really bound to get away--"

"I am," came the muffled voice.

"But have you got any place to go?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"My married sister's in London."

"Truly?"

"I can show you a cablegram if you don't believe me."

"That's all right, then. I'll take a chance. Now for one deep, dark, and
deadly plot. If the pilot-boat is after you, they'll look up your name
and cabin on the passenger list."

"I didn't give my real name."

"Oho! Well, your father might wire a description."

"It's just the kind of thing he would do."

"Therefore you'd better change your clothes."

"No. I'd better not. This awful mess is a regular disguise for me."

"And if you could contrive to stop crying--"

"I'm going to cry," said the young lady, with conviction, "all the way
over."

"You'll be a cheerful little shipmate!"

"Don't you concern yourself about that," she retorted. "After the pilot
leaves, you needn't have me on your mind at all."

"Thank you. Well, suppose you join me over in yonder secluded corner of
the deck in about two hours. Is there anybody on board that knows you?"

"How do I know? There might be."

"Then stay out of the way, and keep muffled up as you are now. Your own
mother wouldn't recognize you through that veil. In fact I don't suppose
I'd know you myself, but for your voice."

"Oh, I don't always whisper. But if I try to talk out loud my throat
gets funny and I want to c-c-cry--"

"Quit it! Stop. Brace up, now. We'll bluff the thing through somehow.
Just leave it to me and don't worry."

"And now," queried the Tyro of himself, as he watched the forlorn little
figure out of sight, "what have I let myself in for this time?"

With a view to gathering information about the functions, habits, and
capacities of a pilot-boat, he started down to the office and was seized
upon the companionway by a grizzled and sunbaked man of fifty who
greeted him joyously.

"Sandy! Is it yourself? Well met to you!"

"Hello, Dr. Alderson," returned the young man with warmth. "Going over?
What luck for me!"

"Why? Need a chaperon?"

"A cicerone, anyway. It's my first trip, and I don't know a soul
aboard."

"Oh, you'll know plenty before we're over. A maiden voyager is a sort of
pet aboard ship, particularly if he's an unattached