"I overheard a conversation. I could not help it."

"Well, once we are ashore I may have a chance of explaining things
fully. If necessary, tell Captain Stump I wish you to escort us."

They could say no more. The telegraph rang from "Slow" to "Stop her."
Two sailors were waiting in the bows, and had already cleared the
anchor from its chocks. Irene leaned against the rail. She wore a pith
hat, and was dressed in white muslin for shore-going, while a pink-
lined parasol helped to dispel a pallor which was the natural result of
an exhausting voyage. Dick thought he had never seen a woman with a
face and figure to match hers, and it is to be feared that hi mind
wandered a little until he was roused by a bellow from the bridge.

"Stand by, forrard. Let go-o-o!"

Luckily, Dick's office was a sinecure. The men knew what to do, and did
it. With a roar and a rattle the chain cable rushed through the hawse-
pipe, and the _Aphrodite_ rested motionless on the green water of the
roadstead.

The yacht's arrival created some stir on shore. Several boats put off,
their swarthy crews contending strenuously which should have the
valuable privilege of landing the expected passengers. Stump bustled
down from the bridge with the important air of a man who had achieved
something, and thus gave Royson an unforeseen opportunity of asking him
about the boat. The skipper swung himself back to the upper deck, and
approached Mr. Fenshawe.