the rest, he was broad-shouldered and well-set-up, sealed with the
indescribable stamp of the English gentleman. Such was the appearance of
Robert Seymour.

In that light the girl at his side looked lovely, though, in fact, she
had no real claims to loveliness, except perhaps as regards her figure,
which was agile, rounded, and peculiarly graceful. Her foreign-looking
face was unusual, dark-eyed, a somewhat large and very mobile mouth,
fair and waving hair, a broad forehead, a sweet and at times wistful
face, thoughtful for the most part, but apt to be irradiated by sudden
smiles. Not a beautiful woman at all, but exceedingly attractive, one
possessing magnetism.

She gazed, first at the moon and the silver road beneath it, then,
turning, at the land beyond.

"We are very near to Africa, at last," she said.

"Too near, I think," he answered. "If I were the captain I should stand
out a point or two. It is a strange country, full of surprises. Miss
Clifford, will you think me rude if I ask you why you are going there?
You have never told me--quite."

"No, because the story is rather a sad one; but you shall hear it if you
wish. Do you?"

He nodded, and drew up two deck chairs, in which they settled themselves
in a corner made by one of the inboard boats, their faces still towards
the sea.