"Don't be silly," observed Dick, whose eyes were upon a trim yacht that
was steaming slowly beneath them.

"I shan't, but please don't be violent! Do not murder the poor man,
Dickie, dear,"--and she took hold of his arm entreatingly--"for there he
is--as tall and mysterious as ever--and me found guilty with a few of his
orchids pinned to my jacket!"

"This is good fortune, indeed," said Armitage a moment later when they
had shaken hands. "I finished my errand at Geneva unexpectedly and here I
am."

He smiled at the feebleness of his explanation, and joined in their
passing comment on the life of the harbor. He was not so dull but that he
felt Dick Claiborne's resentment of his presence on board. He knew
perfectly well that his acquaintance with the Claibornes was too slight
to be severely strained, particularly where a fellow of Dick Claiborne's
high spirit was concerned. He talked with them a few minutes longer, then
took himself off; and they saw little of him the rest of the day.

Armitage did not share their distinction of a seat at the captain's
table, and Dick found him late at night in the smoking-saloon with pipe
and book. Armitage nodded and asked him to sit down.

"You are a sailor as well as a soldier, Captain. You are fortunate; I
always sit up the first night to make sure the enemy doesn't lay hold of
me in my sleep."

He tossed his book aside, had brandy and soda brought and offered