him going to the dance. The thought stirred him inexpressibly.
What other explanation was there if this was not the one? And she
had deserted the count, who was away in London on a day's
business; deserted the Paquita at anchor in the roads! He was
frightened at his own exultation. Suppose he were wrong in this
surmise! Suppose it were just another of her unaccountable
caprices!

They ran down Channel at full speed and at night were abreast of
the Scilly lights, driving towards the Bay of Biscay in the teeth
of an Equinoctial gale. At the behest of one girl eighty men had
to endure the discomfort of a storm at sea, and a great steel
ship, straining and quivering, was flung into the perilous night.
It seemed a misuse of power that, at a woman's whim, so many lives
and so noble and costly a fabric could be risked--and risked for
nothing. From the captain on the bridge, dripping in his oil-
skins, to the coal-passers and firemen below who fed the mighty
furnaces, to the cooks in the galley, the engineers, the
electrician on duty, the lookout man in the bow clinging to the
life-line when the Minnehaha buried her nose out of sight--all
these perforce had to endure and suffer at Florence's bidding
without question or revolt.

Frank's elation passed and left him in a bitter humour towards
her. It was not right, he said to himself, not right at all. She
ought to show a little consideration for the men who had served
her so well and faithfully. Besides, it was unworthy of her to
betray such pettiness and spoil Cassie's dance. He felt for the
girl's humiliation, and, though not in love with her, he was
conscious of a sentiment that hated to see her hurt. He would not