round it. There appeared to
be a lump of knots on top, and a loose end trailing like seaweed, which
made the task of taking the derelict in tow an easy one. To this broken
rope Roger deftly attached the rope carried in the boat, and it was not
long before the rescue party started to return.

"Is it a coffin or a treasure chest?" girls and men eagerly called down
to Roger. Everyone screamed some question--except Shelagh and me. We
were silent, and Shelagh's colour had faded. She edged closer to me,
until our shoulders touched. Hers felt cold to my warm flesh.

"Why, you're shivering, dear!" I said. "You're not _afraid_ of that
wretched thing--whatever it is?"

"We both _know_ what it is, without telling, don't we?" she replied, in
a half whisper. "I'm not _afraid_ of it, of course. But--it's awful that
we should come across a coffin floating in the sea, on our first day
out. I feel as if it meant bad luck for Roger and me. How can they all
squeal and chatter so? I suppose Roger is bound to bring the dreadful
thing on board. It wouldn't be decent not to. But I wish he needn't."

I rather wished the same, partly because I knew how superstitious
sailors were about such matters, and how they would hate to have a
coffin--presumably containing a dead body--on board the _Naiad_. It
really wasn't a gay yachting companion! However, I tried to cheer
Shelagh. It would take more than this to bring her bad luck _now_, I
said, when things had gone so far; and she might have more trust in me,
whom she had lately named her _mascotte_.

All the men frankly desired to see the _trouvaille_ at close quarters,
and most of the women wanted a peep, though they weren't brutally open
about it. If there had been any doubt, it would have vanished as the
Thing was being hauled on board by grave-faced, suddenly sullen sailors.
It was a "sure enough" coffin, and--it seemed--an unusually large one!

It had to be placed on deck, for the moment, but Roger had the dark
shape instantly covered with tarpaulins; and an appeal from his clouded
eyes made me suggest adjourning indoors for tea. We could have it in the
saloon, which was decorated like a boudoir, and full of lilies and
roses--Shelagh's favourite flowers.

"Let's not talk any more about the business!" Roger exclaimed, when
Shelagh's uncle seemed inclined to mix the subject with food. "I wish it
hadn't happened, as the men are foolishly upset. But it can't be helped,
and we must do our best