they walked along.

"Which is your state-room?" asked Chester.

"It's 340; but what you want to know for? Aren't we going to have a
drink?"

"Not just now, my man. You're going to your room, and to bed. You got up
too early. Listen,"--as the sobering man began to resent the
interference,--"there's an officer looking at us. He will do nothing if
you will go along quietly with me, but if you make a scene I'll hand you
over to him."

They found the man's room and he willingly went in and lay down. "Now,"
said Chester to him, "remain below until you're sober. And don't bother
that young lady again--do you hear. _Don't you do it_."

Chester went on deck again, somewhat in wonder at his own conduct. He
was not in the habit of interfering in other people's business, and
never mixed with drunken affairs. But this surely was different. No man
would have refused _that_ appeal for help. Yes; he was sure she had
pleaded with her eyes. Perhaps he ought to go back and receive her
thanks, but he resisted that impulse. He walked to the extreme rear of
the boat and stood looking at the broad white path which the ship was
making in the green sea. He stood gazing for some time, then turned, and
there sitting on a coil of rope was the girl who had been in his mind.
She saw his confusion and smiled at it.

"I--I came to thank you," she said; "but I did not like to disturb your
meditations, so I sat down to rest."