row along the rail. There were tears in his eyes, tears of
anger, shame and mortification. She had played with him!

Moodily he watched the crowd of voyagers hanging over the rails
of the moving leviathan of the deep. A faint smile of irony came
to his lips. This was the boat on which his heart was to have
been freighted from native shores. The craft was sailing, but it
was not carrying the cargo that he had, in very good faith,
consigned to Graustark. His heart was certainly not on board the
Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse.

Gloomily his disappointed eyes swept along the rail of the big
steamer, half interested in spite of themselves. Twice they
passed a certain point on the forward deck, unconscious of a
force that was attracting them in that direction. The third time
he allowed them to settle for an instant on the group of faces
and figures and then stray off to other parts of the ship. Some
strange power drew them again to the forward deck, and this time
he was startled into an intent stare. Could he believe those
eyes? Surely that was her figure at the rail--there between the
two young women who were waving their handkerchiefs so
frantically. His heart began to jump up and down, wildly,
doubtingly, impatiently. Why could not that face be turned
toward the wharf as the others were? There was the blue
coat but not the blue cap. A jaunty sailor hat sat where the
never-to-be-forgotten cap had perched. The change was slight,
but it was sufficient to throw him into the most feverish state of
uncertainty. An insane desire to shout a command to this strange
young woman came over him.