enjoyed it all but
for the heavy foreboding in her heart; for she was a simple person who
responded easily to the emotions of others. Before she could slip away
to bed Sir Langham cornered her again, conjuring her to "will" him to
sleep and "to go on doin' it" after they parted in Bombay. He became
rather maudlin, and she seized the opportunity of telling him that her
best efforts would be wholly unavailing if he at all relaxed the
temperate habits, so necessary for the cure of his gout, that he had
acquired during the voyage. She was stern with Sir Langham, and her
admonitions had considerable effect. He sought his cabin chastened and
thoughtful.

The boat was due early in the morning. Jan finished most of her packing
before she undressed; then, tired and excited, she could not sleep. A
large cockroach scuttling about her cabin did not tend to calm her
nerves. She plentifully besprinkled the floor with powdered borax, kept
the electric light turned on and the fan whirring, and lay down
wide-awake to wait for the dawn.

The ship was unusually noisy, but just about four o'clock came a new
sound right outside her porthole--the rush alongside of the boat bearing
the pilot and strange loud voices calling directions in an unknown
tongue. She turned out her light (first peering fearfully under her
berth to make sure no borax-braving cockroach was in ambush) and knelt
on her bed to look out and watch the boat with its turbaned occupants:
big brown men, who shouted to one another in a liquid language full of
mystery.

For a brief space the little boat was towed alongside the great liner,
then cast off, and presently--far away on the horizon--Jan saw a streak
of pearly pinkish light, as though the soft blue curtain of the night
had been lifted just a little; and against that luminous streak were
hills.

In spite of her anxiety, in spite of her fears as to the future, Jan's
heart beat fast with pleasurable excitement. She was young and strong
and eager, and here at last was the real East. A little soft wind
caressed her tired forehead and she drank in the blessed coolness of the
early morning.

Both day and night come quickly in the East. Jan got up, had her bath,
dressed, and by half-past six she was on deck. The dark-blue curtain was
rolled up, and the scene set was the harbour of Bombay.

Such a gracious haven of strange multi-coloured craft, with its double
coast-line of misty hills on one side, and clear-cut, high-p