daughter always accompanied
him to his state-room "to make him comfortable." She lighted his lamp,
helped him into his dressing-gown or got him a book from a bookcase
fitted in there--but this last rarely, because Mr. Smith used to declare
"I am no reader" with something like pride in his low tones. Very often
after kissing her good-night on the forehead he would treat her to some
such fretful remark: "It's like being in jail--'pon my word. I suppose
that man is out there waiting for you. Head jailer! Ough!"

She would smile vaguely; murmur a conciliatory "How absurd." But once,
out of patience, she said quite sharply "Leave off. It hurts me. One
would think you hate me."

"It isn't you I hate," he went on monotonously breathing at her. "No, it
isn't you. But if I saw that you loved that man I think I could hate you
too."

That word struck straight at her heart. "You wouldn't be the first
then," she muttered bitterly. But he was busy with his fixed idea and
uttered an awfully equable "But you don't! Unfortunate girl!"

She looked at him steadily for a time then said "Good-night, papa."

As a matter of fact Anthony very seldom waited for her alone at the table
with the scattered cards, glasses, water-jug, bottles and soon. He took
no more opportunities to be alone with her than was absolutely necessary
for the edification of Mrs. Brown. Excellent, faithful woman; the wife
of his still more excellent and faithful steward. And Flora wished all
these excellent people, devoted to Anthony, she wished them all further;
and especially the nice, pleasant-spoken Mrs. Brown with her beady,
mobile eyes and her "Yes certainly, ma'am," which seemed to her to have a
mocking sound. And so this short trip--to the Western Islands only--came
to an end. It was so short that when young Powell joined the _Ferndale_
by a memorable stroke of chance, no more than seven months had elapsed
since the--let us say the liberation of the convict de Barral and his
avatar into Mr. Smith.

* * * * *

For the time the ship was loading in London Anthony took a cottage near a
little country station in Essex, to house Mr. Smith and Mr. Smith's
daughter. It was altogether his idea. How far it was necessary for Mr.
Smith to seek rural retreat I don't know. Perhaps to some extent it was
a judicious arrangement. There were some obligations incumbent on the
liberated de Barral (in connection with reporting himself to the police I
im