fter several restless turns and (within the limit where smoking
was allowed) as many puffs at a cigar as I cared for, I became aware
that a couple of figures were seated behind one of the lifeboats that
rested on the deck. They were so placed as to be visible only to a
person going close to the rail and peering a little sidewise. I don't
think I peered, but as I stood a moment beside the rail my eye was
attracted by a dusky object which protruded beyond the boat and which,
as I saw at a second glance, was the tail of a lady's dress. I bent
forward an instant, but even then I saw very little more; that scarcely
mattered, however, for I took for granted on the spot that the persons
concealed in so snug a corner were Jasper Nettlepoint and Mr.
Porterfield's intended. Concealed was the word, and I thought it a real
pity; there was bad taste in it. I immediately turned away and the next
moment I found myself face to face with the captain of the ship. I had
already had some conversation with him (he had been so good as to invite
me, as he had invited Mrs. Nettlepoint and her son and the young lady
travelling with them, and also Mrs. Peck, to sit at his table) and had
observed with pleasure that he had the art, not universal on the
Atlantic liners, of mingling urbanity with seamanship.

'They don't waste much time--your friends in there,' he said, nodding
in the direction in which he had seen me looking.

'Ah well, they haven't much to lose.'

'That's what I mean. I'm told _she_ hasn't.'

I wanted to say something exculpatory but I scarcely knew what note to
strike. I could only look vaguely about me at the starry darkness and
the sea that seemed to sleep. 'Well, with these splendid nights, this
perfection of weather, people are beguiled into late hours.'

'Yes. We want a nice little blow,' the captain said.

'A nice little blow?'

'That would clear the decks!'

The captain was rather dry and he went about his business. He had made
me uneasy and instead of going below I walked a few steps more. The
other walkers dropped off pair by pair (they were all men) till at last
I was alone. Then, after a little, I quitted the field. Jasper and his
companion were still behind their lifeboat. Personally I greatly
preferred good weather, but as I went down I found myself vaguely
wishing, in the interest of I scarcely knew what, unless of decorum,
that we might have half a gale.

Miss Mavis turned out, in sea-phrase, early; for t