d regard him with steady, meditative eyes. I was fascinated
by the name myself. It recalled Captain Macedoine to me. It was like
him. Imagine that name reverberating down through the ages from ancient
Attica to classical France, taken out across the Western Ocean by
forlorn _emigres_, who clung to their pretty trashy artificialities in
spite of, or perhaps because of, the frightfulness of the wilderness,
handed on by sentimental and aristocratic Creoles, filched by German
Jews and prosperous mulattos, picked up right in the gutter by a supreme
illusionist and given to a young person who seemed half school-girl and
half adventuress.

"For it was perfectly obvious to me that whether I had diagnosed her
character truly or not, she was not at all a suitable temperament to
have about a child. There was, for instance, something ominous in the
sudden quiet with which she would regard the angelic Babs when that
odious little being began to pull her hair or jump on her feet or thump
her across the back with the heavy cabin ruler. These things happened to
me, too; but I could scarcely expect to escape. I was Jack's chum. I was
a bachelor and therefore credited with a deep and passionate love of
children. Artemisia, however, was a stranger. When something
particularly outrageous occurred, Mrs. Evans, glancing up, would murmur,
'Oh, Babs, dear!' and then, to my considerable embarrassment, I would
find Artemisia's eyes fixed inscrutably upon mine as she fended off the
attentions of her charge. And so, when I rose one fine evening as we
sailed along the Spanish coast, and she followed me up on deck, I felt
that she was about to take me into her confidence. I looked round as
she slammed the wicket which the carpenter had made to keep Babs from
tumbling down and breaking her neck, and the girl's face was close to
mine. We laughed quietly in the faint light that came up from the cabin.
After all, there was not such a frightful disparity in our ages. As we
walked aft along the bridge deck, and stood between the funnel casing
and the life boats--a matter of seconds--I might have given a swerve to
both our destinies. There are moments, you know, when one can spring
over the most frightful chasms in one's journey through life, and land
with both feet on mossy banks and enamelled meads. It was possibly such
a moment, only I didn't take the chance. As I said, I prefer the part of
super in the play--one sees so much more than either spectator o