t. I mean you've improved so. Why,
Florrie, you've grown up to be a beauty. I never imagined
you--you--looking so fine."

"Don't talk like that, Billie Denman. I'm disfigured for life, I know. I
can never show my face again."

"Nonsense, Florrie. The redness will go away. But, tell me, why didn't
you go aboard that yacht? I overheard you talking to Sampson. Why didn't
you go, and get away from this bunch?"

"I have just told you," she answered, while a tint overspread her pink
face that did not come of the scalding. "There were women on that yacht.
Do you think I want to be stared at, and pitied, and laughed at?"

"I never thought of that," said Denman; "but I suppose it is a very
vital reason for a woman. Yet, it's too bad. This boat is sure to be
captured, and there may be gun fire. It's a bad place for you. But,
Florrie--let me tell you. Did you see what came on board from the
yacht?"

"Boxes, and barrels, and the water."

"Yes, and some of those boxes contained whisky and brandy. Whisky and
brandy make men forget that they are men. Have you a key for your door?"

"No; I never saw one."

Denman tried his bunch of keys on the stateroom door until he found the
right one. This he took off the ring and inserted in the lock.

"Lock your door every time you go in there," he said, impressively;
"and, Florrie, another thing--keep that pretty face of yours out of
sight of these men. Go right in there now and replace the bandages.
Then, after a while, about nine o'clock, go on deck for a walk around,
and then let me have your rig. I want a daylight look at things."

She acquiesced, and he went back to his room, locking himself in, just
in time to escape the notice of Billings, who had come for the tray.

"Are you fellows going to deprive me of all exercise?" he demanded.
"Even a man in irons is allowed to walk the deck a little."

"Don't know, sir," answered Billings. "Forsythe is the man to talk to."

"I'll do more than talk to him," growled Denman between his teeth.
"Carry my request for exercise to him. Say that I demand the privileges
of a convict."

"Very good, sir," answered Billings as he went out.

In a few moments he was back with the news that Forsythe had profanely
denied the request. Whereat Denman's heart hardened the more.

He remained quiet until two bells--nine o'clock--had struck, then went
out and approached the after door, just in time to see Florrie's shadow
pass across the glass as she m