h a sigh. "I sometimes feel that I shall never
sleep again. The sound of the storm and the noises of the fight--the
oaths--the cries--they are forever beating in my brain."

"They will pass," I replied encouragingly. "I do believe we are
destined to safety. Look forth there and you will see the morning mists
on the island."

"Yes," she assented. "I saw that we had struck on an island, and that
is why I am here. Our chance is given us, Dr. Phillimore. We must go."

I looked doubtfully at the sleeping men.

"Yes, yes, I know, but my brother will be more reasonable now," she
pursued; "he will see things in another light. He has done all for
honour that honour calls for."

"He has done too much," said I somewhat bitterly, for I realised how
greatly he had imperilled his sister.

She made no answer to that, but approached and looked down at the
Prince, who lay with his head pillowed on the cushioned seat.

"He is well enough?" she asked.

"He is well enough to leave the yacht if he will consent," I answered.

Perhaps it was the sound of our voices, though we had both pitched them
low. At any rate, Prince Frederic stirred and sat up slowly.

"Good-morning, Alix," he said affectionately, and his eyes alighted on
me, as if wondering.

The Princess went forward and embraced him. "Dr. Phillimore has kindly
got breakfast for you," she said. "You must eat, Frederic, for we are
going to leave the yacht this morning."

She spoke decisively, as if she had taken control of affairs out of his
hands, and he smiled back.

"Are those your orders, Alix? You were always wilful from a child."

"No, no," she cried, smiling too, "I always obeyed your orders,
Frederic. It was you who were hero to me, not Karl or Wilhelm--only
you."

He patted her hand and glanced at the food I had obtained. "We owe to
Dr. Phillimore a debt of gratitude," he said in his friendliest manner.
The talking had disturbed Barraclough also, who now awoke and saluted
us. He made no difficulty of beginning at once on his breakfast,
cracking a joke at my expense. It was a strangely pacific gathering
after the terrible night; but I suppose we were all too worn to take
things in duly.

There is a limit to the power of facts to make impressions on one's
senses, and I think we had reached it. For the most part we were just
animals with an appetite. But there was my news, and I hastened to
break it. It was not startling, but it had an interest for us all. The