arling!" he
repeated. It constituted his vocabulary of terms of endearment. He felt
the need of no other. She lay like a lily. He saw nothing anomalous in
certain stains of soot, even on the wonderful face where his had
unconsciously touched it when he had raised her and strained her to him
one mad instant in his arms. In fact, he did not see those stains; his
eyes were closed to such details--and the crimson marks, too, on her
gown! His knuckles were bleeding; he was unaware of it. He was not,
outwardly, a very presentable adorer but he became suddenly a most
daring one. His grimy hand touched the shining hair, half-unbound; he
raised one of the marvelous tresses--his hungry lips swept it
lightly--or did he but breathe a divine fragrance? By some inner process
his spirit seemed to have come that instant very near to hers. He forgot
where he was; time and space were annihilated.

He was brought abruptly back to the living present by a sudden knock at
the door without, which he had locked after entering that way from the
deck. Mr. Heatherbloom listened; the person, whoever he was, on
receiving no response, soon went away. Had they discovered what had
happened to the foreman of the stokers whom Heatherbloom had struck down
with a heavy iron belaying-pin? The man had attacked him with murderous
intent. In defending himself, Heatherbloom believed he had killed the
fellow. The chance blow he had delivered with the formidable weapon had
been one of desperation and despair. It had been more than a question of
his life or the other's. Her fate had been involved in that critical
moment. He had dragged the unconscious figure to the shadows behind a
life-boat. They would not be likely to stumble across the incriminating
evidence while it was dark. Nor was it likely that the foreman's absence
below would cause the men to look for him. The overworked stokers would
be but too pleased to escape, for a spell, their tyrannous master.

Mr. Heatherbloom, standing near the threshold of the dressing-room,
glanced now toward the little French clock without. Over four hours yet
to port! How slowly time went. He turned out all the lights, save one
shaded lamp of low candle-power in the cabin; then he did the same in
the room where the girl was. No one must peer in on him from unexpected
places. He looked up, and saw that the skylights were covered with
canvas. Mr. Heatherbloom remained in the salon; he needed to continue
master of his thought