ared up one point
on which he had been anxious and unsettled. It was taken for granted at
the Works, then, that he had come straight to Liverpool. He walked up and
down the deck on the side remote from the dock, driving this into his
mind.

Everything was wonderfully simplified. If only he could get across, once
reach New York! Meanwhile, he looked at his watch again and discovered
that it wanted but ten minutes to three. He made his way back down to his
stateroom, which was already filled with his luggage. He shook out an
ulster from a bundle of wraps, and selected a tweed cap. Already there
was a faint touch of the sea in the river breeze, and he was impatient
for the immeasurable open spaces, the salt wind, the rise and fall of the
great ship. Then, as he stood on the threshold of his cabin, he heard
voices.

"Down in number 110, eh?"

"Yes, sir," he heard his steward's voice reply. "Mr. Romilly has just
gone down. You've only a minute, sir, before the last call for
passengers."

"That's all right," the voice which had spoken to him over the telephone
that morning replied. "I'd just like to shake hands with him and wish him
bon voyage."

Philip's teeth came together in a little fury of anger. It was maddening,
this, to be trapped when only a few minutes remained between him and
safety! His brain worked swiftly. He took his chance of finding the next
stateroom empty, as it happened to be, and stepped quickly inside. He
kept his back to the door until the footsteps had passed. He heard the
knock at his stateroom, stepped back into the corridor, and passed along
a little gangway to the other side of the ship. He hurried up the stairs
and into the smoking-room. The bugle was sounding now, and hoarse voices
were shouting:

"Every one for the shore! Last call for the shore!"

"Give me a brandy and soda," he begged the steward, who was just opening
the bar.

The man glanced at the clock and obeyed. Philip swallowed half of it at a
gulp, then sat down with the tumbler in his hand. All of a sudden
something disappeared from in front of one of the portholes. His heart
gave a little jump. They were moving! He sprang up and hurried to the
doorway. Slowly but unmistakably they were gliding away from the dock.
Already a lengthening line of people were waving their handkerchiefs and
shouting farewells. Around them in the river little tugs were screaming,
and the ropes from the dock had been thrown loose. Philip stepped t