gratitude filled his soul at the thought of his deliverance from the
shadow of crime. Instinctively his eyes closed and his lips moved in
prayer:

"Thank God, for the sunlight that shines in my soul this morning and
for the life that is still clean; help me to keep it so!"

Nothing now could disturb the serenity of his temper. He dressed
hurriedly, went into the galley, made a fire and called Nan.

He rapped gently on the panelled partition which separated their
staterooms. He could hear her low, softly spoken answer as if there
were nothing between them.

"Yes, Jim, what is it? Are you ill?"

"No, hungry. You will have to help me get some breakfast."

"The cook hasn't come?" she asked in surprise.

There was a moment's hesitation and his voice sounded queer when he
quietly answered:

"No."

She felt the shock of the thought back of his answer and he heard her
spring out of bed and begin to dress hurriedly.

In ten minutes she appeared at the door of the galley, her hair hanging
in glorious confusion about her face and the dark eyes sparkling with
excitement.

"What on earth does it mean, Jim?" she asked breathlessly. "Cal could
tell me nothing last night except that he had gotten wet and chilled
and you had carried him on board against his protest. When the doctor
put him to sleep with a lot of whiskey he was muttering incoherently
about a quarrel he had with you. I thought you sent both tenders to the
shore for mail and provisions. Why hasn't the cook returned?"

"He may never come, Nan."

"Why--Jim!" she gasped.

"They started to tow us in, the engine broke down. I think the
carbureter probably froze and they were driven before the wind,
helpless. There's a chance in a thousand that they reached an oyster
shanty and found shelter. We'll hope for the best. In the meantime you
and I will have to learn to cook again, for a few days."

"A few days!" Nan exclaimed.

"Yes. The bay is frozen. Our old guide is a good cook, but he's safe in
harbor ashore. He had too much sense to venture out last night. He
can't get here now until the ice breaks up."

Nan accepted the situation with girlish enthusiasm, became Stuart's
assistant and did her work with a smile. It was a picnic. She laughed
at the comical picture his tall figure made in a cook's apron and he
made her wear a waitress' cap which he improvised from a Japanese paper
napkin.

The doctor pronounced the meals better than he had tasted on the trip