ed the yacht upon her course, and
every day the _Sea Queen_ drew southward under the ordinary maritime
routine. Were it not for our memories, and for the outward facts of our
predicament, we might have fancied ourselves merely upon a pleasant
excursion.

There was, however, this lacking, that no one knew our destination. The
secret was locked in Holgate's bosom, or perhaps he shared it with one
or more of his desperadoes.

And, as if to lull us into a sense of security and to persuade us that
all was normal, Mademoiselle suddenly developed and exhibited a
remarkable liveliness. She was a thing of moods and impulses,
restrained by no reason or consideration for others, so far as I could
judge. And, having once got the better of her hysteric fear of the
mutiny, she promptly discarded any thought of it. We were prisoners in
our part of the yacht, it is true, but that did not interfere with our
comfort. We had food and wine to spare; we were supplied with every
luxury; and no one gave us any trouble. The guards were set regularly,
but Mademoiselle had no concern with that. I doubt if she even
recognised that such precautions were taken. There was a certain
romance in the situation which appealed to her and inflamed her
imagination. She lived most of the day in her cabins, being tired by
her maid, or playing dominoes or some other childish game; and in the
afternoon she emerged upon us, a glorious figure in fine clothes, and
gave us the benefit of her society.

Naturally she spent much of her time in company with the Prince and his
sister, but Barraclough and myself were by no means denied her favours.
Barraclough spoke French very indifferently--as indifferently, indeed,
as Mademoiselle spoke English, but that did not prevent them from
getting on very well together. As I have explained, Barraclough was a
tall, handsome fellow, lean and inflexible of face, with the
characteristic qualities of his race. His eyes admired the lady
profoundly, and he endeavoured to keep pace with her wits, a task
rendered difficult by the breaches in two languages. This vivacity was
crowned by exhibitions of her voice, to which she began to treat us.
She had, as I remembered, a wonderful mezzo-soprano, and, being pent up
in this comfortable prison, and denied access to the promenade, she
used it to effect. As I have said, the music-room surrounding the
saloon below, as a balcony, was in our suite, if I may put it in that
way, and thither was