If they ain't drinkin' fizz! Say, ain't it great to be rich!"

"Let them dance!" growled Armitage savagely, as he sullenly watched the
merry crowd. "They'd dance to another tune if the boilers were suddenly
to burst, or if the ship ran foul of a rock." Fiercely, he added: "D--n
'em! I'd like to see them down on their blessed knees, weeping and
praying!"

To him these men and women, enjoying themselves in fine clothes, with
plenty of money, without a care, represented the enemy. They belonged
to the class that had wronged him, the world that had been trampling on
him all these years. They were those who laughed when he suffered, who
threw him a bone as one does to a dog. How he hated them! He ground his
teeth at the consciousness of his own impotence to do them injury.

"That's all right!" grinned Bill. "But anythin' as happens to 'em would
catch us, too. I ain't ready for Davy Jones' locker yet."

Still watching the brilliant crowd below, as if fascinated, Armitage
replied with an oath:

"I'm ready for anything. I'd just as soon go to the bottom as not. What
do you fellows get out of life, anyhow? Nothing but hard work, kicks,
and curses--scarcely enough to eat, while those swells have more than
they know what to do with. And they never earned a cent of it."
Savagely, he went on: "It's dead wrong, I tell you. Why should one come
into the world poor and the other rich? Do you wonder I hate them?"

On the deck beneath, Grace rose from her chair and took Count von
Hatzfeld's proffered arm. The count had been most persistent in asking
for another dance, and to get rid of his importunities, she had
consented. Slowly they began to turn to the charming strains of the
_Fledermaus_ waltz, their tall, graceful figures making them conspicuous
among all the other dancers.

"Say!" exclaimed Bill. "Does ye see that tall gal dancin' wid the guy
wid the Dutch whiskers? Ain't she a stunner?"

Armitage's eyes followed those of his mate until they alighted on Grace,
when they were immediately arrested. For a few minutes he said nothing,
watching in silence the proud beauty who was the cynosure of every eye
on deck. With growing interest he took mental note of her dark, flashing
eyes, her slender neck and snow-white shoulders, her splendid figure,
beautiful hair, and graceful carriage.

"She's pretty, all right!" he muttered, at last. "Look at those pearls
round her neck. They're worth a fortune. Isn't she one of those women
who