interrupted Mrs. Haxton's clear drawl.

"Take the ladies aft,--Mr. Royson,--an' let 'em choose their quarters,"
directed Stump curtly.

Dick would have obeyed in silence had not Miss Fenshawe thought fit to
help him. She had found Mrs. Haxton's airs somewhat tiresome during the
long journey from London, and she saw no reason why that lady should be
so ready to bring a hornet's nest about Royson's ears.

"We are not in such a desperate hurry to bestow our belongings that you
cannot read your telegram," she said to Dick. Then she favored Stump
with a frank smile. "I know you mean to start almost immediately,
captain, and it is possible that Mr. Royson may wish to send an answer
before we leave Marseilles. You won't be angry if he waits one moment
before he shows us to our staterooms?"

"Not at all, miss," said the skipper, "he's at your service. I can do
without him--easy."

Stump was angry with Dick, and did not hesitate to show it. A blunt
man, of plain speech, he resented anything in the nature of double-
dealing. Royson's remarkable proficiency in most matters bearing on the
navigation of a ship had amazed him in the first instance, and this
juggling with names led him to suspect some deep-laid villainy with
which the midnight attack on von Kerber was not wholly unconnected.

But the person most taken aback by Irene's self-assertion was Mrs.
Haxton. A firm attitude on the girl's part came as an unpleasing
novelty. An imperious light leaped to her eyes, but she checked the