not always understand Senor Perkins, she liked him too well to
allow him to become ridiculous to others; and at the present moment she
promptly interposed with a charming assumption of coquetry.

"You forget that you promised to let ME read the manuscript first, and
in private, and that you engaged to give me my revenge at chess this
evening. But do as you like. You are all fast becoming faithless. I
suppose it is because our holiday is drawing to a close, and we shall
soon forget we ever had any, or be ashamed we ever played so long.
Everybody seems to be getting nervous and fidgety and preparing for
civilization again. Mr. Banks, for the last few days, has dressed
himself regularly as if he were going down town to his office,
and writes letters in the corner of the saloon as if it were a
counting-house. Mr. Crosby and Mr. Winslow do nothing but talk of their
prospects, and I believe they are drawing up articles of partnership
together. Here is Mr. Brace frightening me by telling me that my brother
will lock me up, to keep the rich miners from laying their bags of
gold dust at my feet; and Mrs. Brimmer and Miss Chubb assure me that I
haven't a decent gown to go ashore in."

"You forget Mr. Hurlstone," said Brace, with ill-concealed bitterness;
"he seems to have time enough on his hands, and I dare say would
sympathize with you. You women like idle men."

"If we do, it's because only the idle men have the time to amuse us,"
retorted Miss Keene. "But," she added, with a laugh, "I suppose I'm
getting nervous and fidgety myself; for I find myself every now and
then watching the officers and men, and listening to the orders as if
something were going to happen again. I never felt so before; I never
used to have the least concern in what you call 'the working of the
ship,' and now"--her voice, which had been half playful, half pettish,
suddenly became grave,--"and now--look at the mate and those men
forward. There certainly is something going on, or is going to happen.
What ARE they looking at?"

The mate had clambered halfway up the main ratlines, and was looking
earnestly to windward. Two or three of the crew on the forecastle were
gazing in the same direction. The group of cabin-passengers on the
quarterdeck, following their eyes, saw what appeared to be another low
shore on the opposite bow.

"Why, there's another coast there!" said Mrs. Markham.

"It's a fog-bank," said Senor Perkins gravely. He quickly crossed t