he law clerk thanking me warmly and giving me his
hand. That I should ever see him again, or run across the man of whom he
was in search, were things so utterly improbable that I gave them no
second thought. But I was to learn in later days how small a place the
world really was.

I spent the afternoon in the hotel, for I was satisfied that Captain
Rudstone's caution against venturing in the streets was not to be
despised. He had gone up several degrees in my estimation since the
little cloud of mutual suspicion had cleared away. I did not doubt that
he was as zealous for the interests of the company as myself, and,
moreover, I felt that he would prove a trusty friend should Mr. Cuthbert
Mackenzie try to give me any trouble. That the captain was to sail on
the same ship to the Bay was a matter less to my liking, though I hardly
knew why. He was of a type that a youngster like myself usually looks up
to, and he had flattered me by giving me his full confidence: but he
never seemed quite at ease in my presence, or inclined to stare me
straight in the eyes, which I could not account for.

The time passed listlessly. I chatted for awhile with Monsieur Ragoul,
and watched the customers who came in to drink. I could not put Miss
Hatherton out of my mind. As often as I remembered that she was to share
the long sea voyage with me, the joy of it was marred by the picture of
old Griffith Hawke waiting at Fort York for his bride. I was angry at
myself for taking the thing so much to heart--uneasy because a woman
could thus interest me.

I had hoped to see her that afternoon, but she did not make her
appearance until the late supper-time. We sat down to table together,
and it gave me a strange thrill to see her sitting opposite. She looked
more lovely than ever without her bonnet, and in a black gown relieved
by some touches of creamy lace. I fear I stared at her stupidly, and was
dull of conversation; but she chatted freely of the wonderful things to
be seen in London, and I was sorry when the meal was over. Miss
Hatherton then offered me a dainty hand and bade me good-night, saying
that she had not been able to sleep all day, and intended to retire
early.

I finished my bottle of wine, and went upstairs to my room on the third
and top floor of the hotel--a meager little hole where I, used to a
blanket and fir boughs, had always felt cramped and stifled. But now I
wished to be alone, and for some hours I sat there without a li