"Then, let us pray," he exclaimed, with fervor, "that the hurricane
has sunk the SERAPIS, and all on board."

Two hours later, the SERAPIS, showing she had met the hurricane and
had come out second best, steamed into the harbor.

Her owner was young Herbert Livingstone, of Washington. He once had
been in the diplomatic service, and, as minister to The Hague,
wished to return to it. In order to bring this about he had
subscribed liberally to the party campaign fund.

With him, among other distinguished persons, was the all- powerful
Hanley. The kidnapping of Hanley for the cruise, in itself,
demonstrated the ability of Livingstone as a diplomat. It was the
opinion of many that it would surely lead to his appointment as a
minister plenipotentiary. Livingstone was of the same opinion. He
had not lived long in the nation's capital without observing the
value of propinquity. How many men he knew were now paymasters, and
secretaries of legation, solely because those high in the
government met them daily at the Metropolitan Club, and preferred
them in almost any other place. And if, after three weeks as his
guest on board what the newspapers called his floating palace, the
senator could refuse him even the prize, legation of Europe, there
was no value in modest merit. As yet, Livingstone had not hinted at
his ambition. There was no need. To a statesman of Hanley's
astuteness, the largeness of Livingstone's contribution to the
campaign fund was self- explanatory.

After her wrestling-match with the hurricane, all those on board
the SERAPIS seemed to find in land, even in the swamp land of Porto