"I see him now. Why, he is only a boy."

"A pretty big one. But hark!"

They ceased talking that they might not lose any of the marvellous music.
Others gathered near until more than a score were listening near the
bridge. Many more paused in different parts of the deck, and even the
grim captain high up on the bridge expressed the opinion that the
singer's voice was "infernally good."

The singer was modest, for when he discovered the number of listeners he
abruptly ceased nor could any coaxing induce him to resume the treat.

"Louis," said the prima donna, after the silence had lasted some minutes
and the various groups began dissolving, "I want you to bring that boy to
me."

"Why, my dear, he is a second class passenger."

"What of that? He has a divine gift in his voice. I must meet him."

Louis shrugged his shoulders, but he was used to the whims of his
brilliant sister. He strolled through one of the gates while she awaited
his return. He soon appeared, walking slowly, in order to keep pace with
a big boy behind him, who, it was evident, moved with deep reluctance.
Louis led him straight to the lady, who advanced a step to meet him.

"I wish to shake hands with you," she said in her frank, winning manner,
"and to tell you how much we all enjoyed your singing of 'Mavourneen.'"

The confused lad doffed his cap and bowed with awkward grace.

"It was mesilf that feared I was disturbing yer slumbers, which if it be
the fact I beg yer pardon fur the same."

"Disturbing our slumbers! Did you hear that, Louis?"

And the artist's musical laughter rang out. More soberly she asked:

"Will you tell me your name?"

"Mike Murphy--not Michael as some ignorant persons call it--and I'm from
Tipperary, in the County of Tipperary, and the town is a hundred miles
from Dublin--thank ye kindly, leddy."

"Are you alone?"

Mike was standing with his cap in hand where the moonlight revealed his
homely face and his shock of red hair. His self-possession had quickly
come back to him and his waggishness could not be repressed. He glanced
into the beautiful face before him and made answer:

"How can I be alone, whin I'm standing in the prisence of the swatest
lady on boord the steamer, wid her father at her elbow?"

How the prima donna laughed!

"Louis, he thinks you are my father, when you are my twin brother! It's
delicious."

"It may be for you, but not for me," he grimly answered, though scarcely
less pleased th