"It surely cannot be possible that the _Sirdar_ has gone to
pieces--a magnificent vessel of her size and strength?"

He answered quietly--"It is too true, madam. I suppose you hardly knew
she struck, it happened so suddenly. Afterwards, fortunately for you,
you were unconscious."

"How do you know?" she inquired quickly. A flood of vivid recollection
was pouring in upon her.

"I--er--well, I happened to be near you, madam, when the ship broke up,
and we--er--drifted ashore together."

She rose and faced him. "I remember now," she cried hysterically. "You
caught me as I was thrown into the corridor. We fell into the sea when
the vessel turned over. You have saved my life. Were it not for you I
could not possibly have escaped."

She gazed at him more earnestly, seeing that he blushed beneath the
crust of salt and sand that covered his face. "Why," she went on with
growing excitement, "you are the steward I noticed in the saloon
yesterday. How is it that you are now dressed as a sailor?"

He answered readily enough. "There was an accident on board during the
gale, madam. I am a fair sailor but a poor steward, so I applied for a
transfer. As the crew were short-handed my offer was accepted."

Iris was now looking at him intently.