scrutinising. It was afternoon of a
grey day in the latter part of October three years ago; and the scene
was one of the wharves of the east basin of the London Docks, round
which I had been prowling in search of a ship. I had been thus engaged
ever since nine o'clock that morning, interviewing skippers and mates,
so far unsuccessfully, when I was "brought up all standing" by finding
myself in close proximity to a white-hulled, ship-rigged craft of, I
estimated, some two thousand five hundred tons measurement.

She was steel-built, with steel lower masts, bowsprit, and lower and
topsail yards; and even if she had not been sporting the ensign of the
New York Yacht Club at her ensign staff and its burgee at her main
royal-mast-head, I should still have known her for a yacht from the
perfection of her lines, the dainty and exquisite beauty of her shape,
the whiteness of her decks (notwithstanding their somewhat littered
condition), the beautiful modelling of her boats, her polished teak
rails, and generally the high finish and perfect cleanliness of her deck
fittings. She was as heavily rigged as a frigate; moreover, although no
guns were visible, I observed that her main-deck bulwarks were pierced
with six ports of a side, in the wake of which steel racers were bolted
to the deck; also she sported hammock rails, which I had never seen
before except in pictures of old-fashioned wooden men-o'-war. A gilt
cable moulding ornamented her sheer strake; a beautifully carved and
gilded full-length figure of a woman wearing a star of cut-glass facets
on her forehead formed her figurehead; and her quarters were adorned
with a considerable amount of gilded scroll-work. Her elliptical stern
bore, in large gilded block letters, the words: Stella Maris. New York.

As the enquiry with which I have opened this story reached my ears, I
wheeled round and found myself face to face with a little lady. She was
very richly dressed in silk and furs, quite colourless as to complexion,
but with a fine pair of deep violet eyes and a quantity of dark chestnut
hair loosely coiled under an immense hat rigged with black ostrich
plumes. I put her down in my own mind as being something over
thirty-six years of age, and I subsequently learned that I was not very
far out.

Her eyes were dancing with amusement as I wheeled sharply round upon
her; and as my hand went up to my cap she laughed a low, musical laugh.

"Guess I startled you some, didn