he personal friend of half the army though there was
not a single man who could boast that he knew him thoroughly well. For
none knew exactly what this man, who scoffed so freely at disaster,
carried in his heart.

As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel, gazing steadfastly into
the howling darkness, his face was as serene as if he sailed a summer
sea. The great waves that dashed their foam over him as he stood were
powerless to raise fear in his soul! He stood as one apart--a lonely
watcher whom no danger could appal.

It was growing late, but he took no count of time. More than once he had
been hoarsely advised to go below, but he would not go. He believed
himself to be the only passenger on deck, and he clung to his solitude.
The bare thought of the stuffy saloon was abhorrent to him. He marvelled
that no one else had developed the same distaste.

And with the thought he turned, breathless from the buffeting spray of a
mighty wave, to find a woman standing near him on the swirling deck.

She stood poised lightly as a bird prepared for flight, her head bare,
her face upturned to the storm. Her hands were fast gripped upon the
rail, and the gleam of a gold ring caught Carey's eye. He saw that she
was unconscious of his presence. The shifting, uncertain light had not
revealed him. For a space he stood watching her, unperceived, wondering
at the courage that upheld her. Her hair had blown loose in the wind,
and lay in a black mass upon her neck. He could not see her features,
but her bearing was superb.

And then at length, as if his quiet scrutiny had somehow touched in her
a responsive chord, she turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and
a curious thrill ran tingling through the man's veins. He had never seen
this woman before, but as she looked at him, with wonderful dark eyes
that seemed to hold a passionate exultation in their depths, he suddenly
felt as if he had known her all his life. They were comrades. It was no
hysterical panic that had driven her up from below. Like himself, she
had been drawn by the magic of the storm.

Impulsively, almost involuntarily, he moved a pace towards her and
stretched out a hand along the dripping rail.

She gave him her own instantly and confidently, responding to his
action with absolute simplicity. It was a gesture of sympathy, of
fellowship. She bore herself as a queen, but she did not condescend to
him.

No words passed between them. Both realised the i