said he was sorry to hear it.

"Though there's worse things than bad legs," continued Miss Vickers,
soaping her scrubbing-brush mechanically; "being lost at sea, for
instance."

Captain Bowers made no reply. Adopting the idea that all roads lead to
Rome, Miss Vickers had, during her stay at Dialstone Lane, made many
indirect attempts to introduce the subject of the treasure-seekers.

"I suppose those gentlemen are drowned?" she said, bending down and
scrubbing noisily.

The captain, taking advantage of her back being turned towards him, eyed
her severely. The hardihood of the girl was appalling. His gaze
wandered from her to the bureau, and, as his eye fell on the key sticking
up in the lid, the idea of reading her a much-needed lesson presented
itself. He stepped over the pail towards the bureau and, catching the
girl's eye as she looked up, turned the key noisily in the lock and
placed it ostentatiously in his pocket. A sudden vivid change in
Selina's complexion satisfied him that his manoeuvre had been
appreciated.

"Are you afraid I shall steal anything?" she demanded, hotly, as he
regained the kitchen.

The captain quailed. "No," he said, hastily. "Somebody once took a
paper of mine out of there, though," he added. "So I keep it locked up
now."

Miss Vickers dropped the brush in the pail, and, rising slowly to her
feet, stood wiping her hands on her coarse apron. Her face was red and
white in patches, and the captain, regarding her with growing uneasiness,
began to take in sail.

[Illustration: "Miss Vickers stood wiping her hands on her coarse
apron."]

"At least, I thought they did," he muttered.

Selina paid no heed. "Get out o' my kitchen," she said, in a husky
voice, as she brushed past him.

The captain obeyed hastily, and, stepping inside the dismantled room,
stood for some time gazing out of window at the rain. Then he filled
his pipe and, removing a small chair which was sitting upside down in a
large one, took its place and stared disconsolately at the patch of wet
floor and the general disorder.

At the end of an hour he took a furtive peep into the kitchen. Selina
Vickers was sitting with her back towards him, brooding over the stove.
It seemed clear to him that she was ashamed to meet his eye, and, glad to
see such signs of grace in her, he resolved to spare her further
confusion by going upstairs. He went up noisly and closed his door with
a bang, but although he opened