All Aboard: A Story for Girls

Produced by Al Haines

All Aboard

A Story For Girls

By Fannie E. Newberry

_Author of "The Odd One," "Not for Profit," "Bubbles," "Joyce's Investments," "Sara a Princess," etc., etc._

"Our Faith, a star, shone o'er a rocky height; The billows rose, and she was quenched in night."

New York:

A. L. Burt Company, Publishers.

Copyright, 1898.

By A. I. BRADLEY & CO

In Memory

Of A Happy Visit,

Let Me Dedicate To You, My Cousins

H. S. And W. Fassett,

This Little Book

With My Affectionate Regards

Contents.

Chap.

I. Debby has a Caller II. The Leave-taking III. New Surroundings IV. Introductions V. "On the Bay of Biscay, O!" VI. Portuguese Towns and Heroes VII. Kite-flying and Gibraltar VIII. Nightmare and Gossip IX. A Game of Gromets X. Mrs. Windemere's Dinner XI. A Sunday at Sea XII. The Story of a Wreck XIII. Algiers and Andy XIV. Guesswork XV. Tropical Evenings XVI. Danger XVII. Lady Moreham Speaks XVIII. Last Days Together XIX. Old Ties and New XX. In Old Bombay XXI. Friends Ashore XXII. In Elephanta's Caves

"All Aboard!"

Chapter I.

Debby Has A Caller.

"And they're twins, you say?"

"Yes'm, two of 'em, and as putty as twin blooms on a stalk, 'm."

The second speaker was a large, corpulent woman, with a voluminous white apron tied about her voluminous waist. She stood deferentially before the prospective roomer who had asked the question, to whom she was showing the accommodations of her house, with interpolations of a private nature, on a subject too near her heart, to-day, to be ignored even with strangers. As she stood nodding her head with an emphasis that threatened to dislodge the smart cap with purple ribbons, which she had rather hastily assumed when summoned to the door, the caller mentally decided that here was a good soul, indeed, but rather loquacious to be the sole guardian of two girls "putty as twin blooms."

She, herself, was tall and slender, and wore her rich street costume with an easy elegance, as if fine clothing were too much a matter of course to excite her interest. But upon her face were lines which showed that, at some time, she had looked long and deeply into the hollow eyes of trouble, possibly despair. Even the smile now curving her well-turned lips lacked the joyousness of youth, though in years she seemed well on the sunny side of early middle age. She was evidently in no hurry this morning, and finding her possible landlady so ready to talk, bent an attentive ear that was most flattering to the good creature.

"I knew," she said, sinking into a rattan chair tied up with blue ribbons, like an over-dressed baby, "that these rooms had an air which suggested youth and beauty. I don't wonder your heart is sore to lose them."

"Ah, it's broke it is, 'm!" the voice breaking in sympathy, "for I've looked upon 'em as my own, entirely, and it's nigh to eighteen year, now. Their mother, just a slip of a girl herself, 'm, had only time for a long look at her babbies before she begun to sink, and when she see, herself, 'twas the end, she whispered, 'Debby'--I was right over her, 'm, leaving the babbies to anybody, for little they were to me then, beside the dear young mistress--so she says, says she, 'Debby!' and I says, very soft-like, 'Yes, Miss Helen,'--'cause, mind you, I'd been her maid afore she was merrit at all, and I allays forgot when I wasn't thinkin', and give her the old name--and I says, 'Yes, Miss Helen?' And then she smiles up at me just as bright as on her wellest days, 'm, and says, 'Call 'em Faith and Hope,' Debby; that's what they would be to me if--and not rightly onderstandin' of her, I breaks in, 'Faith and Hope? Call _what_ faith and hope?' For, thinkses I, 'she may be luny with the fever.' But no, she says faint-like, but clear and sound as a bell, 'Call my babies so. Let their names be Faith and Hope, and when their poor father comes home, say it was my wish, and he must not grieve too much, for he will have Faith and Hope always with him.' And then the poor dear sinks off again and never rightly comes to, till she's clean gone."

"And their father was on a voyage, then?"

"Yes 'm, second mate of the 'International.' He's cap'n now, 'm, with an interest in the steamship, and they do say they ain't many that's so dreadfully much finer in the big P. & O. lines--leastwise so I've heerd tell, 'm, and I guess they ain't no mistake about it, nuther."

"And you have mothered his babies all these years?"

"I have, 'm, yes. In course when it come time for their schoolin' I had to let 'em go. 'Twas then Cap'n Hosmer was going to give up this house, 'cause 'twa'n't no use a-keepin' it while they was off, but thet made me put my wits to work, and I planned a plan as I ain't seen fit to find no fault with to this day. I ups and merries John Gunter, what's been a-hangin' around a year or more, and I says, 'We'll take the house off your hands, Cap'n. I've made up a notion to keep lodgers, and then that'll give my girls a place to come to, and git fed up, a holidays--don't you see, sir? And at that he laughs and says, says he--for he's a man what's sound and sweet clear through, like a hard cabbage, 'm, no rotten nowhere--and he says: 'A good plan, Debby, and I'll rent your two best rooms for my daughters now, and pay a year in advance,' and so 'twas done, 'm. And so's went the last five year, them a-coming and going, jest like the sunshine in Aprile, but now--"

Again the always husky voice broke, and the white apron was turned into a handkerchief for the nonce.

"Now you are going to lose them, you say?"

"Yes'm. They're to ship with their father for the long cruise--that is, I s'pose I oughter say they're a-goin with him on the long v'yage to Ingy."

"I presume he gets lonely for them too, poor man!"

"In course he do, 'm--I sees thet plain--and I can't really say a word, only--hist! I believes it's 'em, now. If that ain't my Miss Hope's rush through the hall then I'll--"

An unmistakable breeze and clatter, in which fresh young voices could be plainly heard, sounded without, and, as both women faced the door, it was flung somewhat violently open, and a young creature appeared in its frame who seemed the incarnation of joy and brightness. Involuntarily the lady murmured "Hope!" for the young girl's great brown eyes were alight with fun, and her red-brown hair seemed to laugh sympathetically in every curly lock and tangle, while her parted lips showed teeth like bits of alabaster polished to splendor.

She had scarcely entered when there seemed to be two of her, for her sister, close behind, was so perfect a counterpart that no one, unless a keen observer, could detect a difference. The stranger was a keen observer and noticed that, while eyes, teeth, hair, and rich complexion were identical, also the height and build, the expression was quite different. Where the first-comer was alert, bird-like, and possibly inclining to sharpness, the second was more dreamy, peaceful, and slow. She had called the one "Hope," and saw, with quick pleasure, that she was right, for as the girl stopped suddenly, abashed at finding a stranger in the room, Mrs. Gunter said apologetically--

"I was jest takin' this lady through, Miss Hope. She thowt as she might be a-wantin' of these after you an' Miss Faith was a-gone, maybe. Mrs. Rollston it is."

Each young girl acknowledged the introduction with a pleasant little nod, and a murmured, "Happy to meet you, Mrs. Rollston," so precisely similar in voice and manner that she could not help an amused smile; yet, even here she could detect that same subtle difference in the expression. Hope's nod was accompanied by a blithe glance, keen, yet inviting, Faith's with a softly-inquiring, yet half-indifferent look, as if some undercurrent of thought were still unstirred. She felt that Hope appropriated her friendliness as a matter of course, while Faith, though not repelling it, maintained a fine reserve which might, or might not, vanish like hoar-frost in the first sun-ray of affection. She said gently, "Your kind Mrs. Gunter has been telling me something of your plans. It takes a great deal out of a house when young people leave it."

"Dear old Deb! She doesn't realize what a lot of care it will take off her shoulders, though," cried Hope, quickly. "It will give her hours and hours for Gyp and the lodgers. You see,"--laughing and dimpling till Mrs. Rollston longed to kiss her,--"I put the dog first."

"Which does not hurt my feelings yet, whatever it may do later," returned that lady in kind. "And when do you sail, may I ask?"

"To-morrow morning. I'm so glad we're to start by daylight. We're going to take Debby out, and send her back in the pilot boat, aren't we, Faith?"

"You nearly promised, you know, Debby," put in the one addressed, seeing dissent in her eye.

"But not quite, honey. I allays feels it's a temptin' of Proverdance for such a shaped woman as I be to set foot on things what goes a-rockin' around on the water. I like to feel good solid earth under them feet!" and she peered quizzically over her round person at her huge carpet slippers, and shook her head with a chuckle of amusement. "I've watched them frisky little steam critters 'fore now, and they're most dujeous like to a babby jest a-larnin' to walk, or a tipsy man a-tryin' to steer straight when he sees double. No, thankee kindly, but I guess I'll say good-by ashore, where I can cry it out comfortable after you're gone."

"Foolish old Debby!" laughed Hope, while Faith looked with a sweet regret at her dear old nurse, but did not speak.

"Do you know," said the stranger, who was about leaving, her business having been long finished, "I am wondering how it happened that these names were bestowed just as they are. Can you tell me, Mrs. Gunter? It would seem as if the babies must have shown their dispositions when very young--or was it a happy chance?"

Deborah laughed with unction. It was a story she was fond of telling. They had just descended the stairs and she opened a door into a snug-looking sitting-room off the hall as she said--

"Well, jest set you down again for a minute, 'm, if you please, and I'll tell you. I ain't good for much at standin' long--too many pounds to hold up. Here, 'm, this is the best chair--now I'll tell ye. Fact is, I was in a real pupplex over them names for a time. First, I was a-goin' to wait till their fayther got home, but they kept a-growin' so fast thet it didn't seem right not to have 'em named. I was real worrited for a spell till, all at once, I found out that they was named--yes, and I'd done it myself! 'Twas like this: When they'd begin to be a stir in the crib, and I was right busy, I'd say to my shadder, 'I hope it isn't this one, 'cause she wouldn't keep still a blessed minute'; or I'd say, 'I've faith to b'lieve it's that one, for she'll coo and play with her toes till I gets ready.' 'Twas allays jest so--'I hope,' or 'I've faith,' every time. And soon as it come to me, why, I jest named the obstreperous one Hope and the quiet one Faith--don't you see?"

"I do. It was bright of you, too. It really means that the names came by nature, so fit like a glove, of course. But I must be off at once. Thank you for a pleasant morning, Mrs. Gunter! I will bring my husband around to-morrow for his approval, if he can spare the time. At any rate, I think I am not too hasty in saying we will take the rooms. We will, if you please, pay by the week in advance, as he is only here on business, and our departure may, necessarily, be sudden. Good-morning."

She departed, followed by the smiles and curtesies of Mrs. Gunter, but not till the latter had found time to whisper huskily, "Aren't they sweet girls, 'm, and do you wonder it breaks me in pieces to lose 'm?" to which she responded heartily,

"Indeed, I can fully understand your grief. They are delightful, and singularly alike. If I were to describe each in a word, I should say Hope is radiant, Faith lovely, and both are charming!"

Chapter II.

The Leave-Taking.

There were lively times in the Portsea lodging-house, next morning. The many last small tasks that crowd upon the out-going voyager had kept even Hope too busy to talk much, and she at length stopped breathlessly, to cry, as she jammed her dressing-sacque and tooth-brush into an already over-crowded bag,

"Dear me! Faith, have you a spot for my hair-brush? It won't fold up nor crush down, and this crocodile is just gorged. I don't know that I can ever snap his jaws to in the world!"

Faith looked and smiled an assent.

"Toss it over! If your alligator-grip is full I can find room in this telescope, but I hope it won't break my scent bottle."

"Oh, alligator--yes, but what's the difference? The creatures look alike in the pictures, I'm sure. That's a darling! Now, if I can ever find the eye for this hook--oh, thank you! How calm you are. Why, my hands fairly shake with nervousness. Now I believe I'm ready."

"I too," returned Faith, taking up her gloves and smiling at Deborah, who just then opened the door, displaying eyes swollen with weeping and cap awry, and who observed sobbingly,

"The new lady--Mrs. Rollston--is below, and asked if you was gone. I thowt as likely she was a-wantin' to see you again, if you don't mind, though she didn't really ask for you. Will you be pleased to come down?"

"Yes indeed!" cried Hope. "Where _did_ I put that umbrella? Oh, I remember! It's tied to the steamer trunk. We may as well take our luggage all down, as we go so soon."

"Yes," said Faith, who had already lifted the telescope and a linen rug-holder, embroidered with her initials, and calmly sailed out, while Hope buzzed aimlessly about, picking up sundry small belongings, during which time Debby shouldered her heavier packages and followed. The girls allowed no dissimilarity in their costumes, to the smallest detail, but for convenience' sake had selected their traps and luggage as unlike as possible. When Hope reached the drawing-room Mrs. Rollston was making to Faith a half-apology for her early visit.

"I knew, if I could time my call exactly right, I would not bother you. There is always a breathing-space while waiting for the cab, and--"

"And you have exactly hit it!" broke in Hope, coming forward to give her greeting, as Faith turned away. "We are pleased to meet you again."

"Thank you. I find myself, in my idle time here, waiting upon my husband's business, taking more interest than is perhaps strictly allowable in you both. Can you pardon me?"

"Freely," said Faith, "and we return it. Hope and I had a smart discussion over you, last night. She says you are an American."

"Does she?" turning swiftly to the sister. "What makes you think so, Miss Hope?"

"Your manner, your dress, and your accent," was the prompt reply though the girl flushed a little in embarrassment.

"But how do you young English girls so well understand these points of difference when--"

"Oh, but we're not English girls!" cried Hope.

"That is, not entirely," qualified Faith. "Our mother was English--"

"But our father's American!" Hope finished the sentence with a triumphant air, and her visitor laughed.

"You seem proud of it, too," she said.

"I am. Faith does not care so much, but I'm very glad it is so. We went across with father and Debby once, and stayed a year. It was such a pleasant time! Father's people live in an old town they call Lynn--such a pretty, shady place, with a drowsy air that wakes into real life two or three times a day, when the factory people stream through the streets--for you see they make shoes there."

"Do they?" asked the lady with a peculiar smile, as if this were not great news to her.

"Yes. Uncle Albert's house, where we lived, was almost hidden beneath great elm trees, and he and Aunt Clarice were so good to us."

"And we kept bees," put in Faith, looking exactly like her twin in her sudden animation. "I used to help uncle swarm them myself."

"And we went down to Boston every few weeks," Hope crowded in again, "and that was fine. I love Boston. Its narrow, crooked streets make me think of our own Portsmouth, here, but with a difference. And oh! the gardens, and the Common, and the Museum--"

"The cab's at the dure," announced Debby in an abused voice, feeling that this lively talk was scarce seemly in view of the near separation to follow. Debby cherished grief, and felt it a Christian duty to make much of it, perhaps because her sunny nature would of itself throw it off too lightly.

At her word all was quickly changed. The two girls forgot the strange woman to hug the dear old nurse, and finally were escorted by both to the cab door, Hope crying heartily, Faith showing only misty eyes and quivering lips, but looking paler than her sister.

It had been arranged that Captain Hosmer, whose business had kept him with his steamer overnight, should meet his daughters at the pier, and the cabman had his directions, so whipped up and was off without delay, leaving poor Debby almost a senseless heap upon the door-step--an old-fashioned green door on a retired street in the more ancient part of the suburb--while Mrs. Rollston, in some dismay, bent over her.

But before the house disappeared from view Faith's straining eyes saw the two slowly mounting the steps together and turned in great content to say, "I'm glad that friendly lady is to be at Debby's. She has just helped the poor dear up the steps as kindly as possible. Poor Debby! She will miss us."

"Yes." Hope's quick tears were already somewhat stayed, and she now looked brightly out, as they clattered across the bridge into the town of Portsmouth proper and began to circle swiftly through the narrow streets.

"But she will feel better in a day or two. And oh! Faith, I can't help being glad that we are going, can you? We leave Debby, but we go with father, and such a fine voyage is enough to make any one happy. Ought we to feel all sorry?"

"No, indeed! Why should we? As you say, we are to go with our father. That alone is a great delight."

"And, by the way, that lady never told us whether she was American, or not, did she?"

"Sure enough! Well, we may never see her again, so what does it matter? I hope we will, though, for I liked her."

"And so did I," was Hope's emphatic rejoinder.

Captain Hosmer opened the cab door for them himself, and gave them the gaze of wondering approval which he reserved for these fair daughters. To him their growth, development, and beauty seemed something magical, incomprehensible. He had left them in the lank, homely, tooth-shedding period, at the time he placed them in school, and when he returned to see them graduated, here were two blooming maidens on the very borderland of charming womanhood. The usual love and pride of a father was in him a rapture made up of the love given to his very own, and also of the admiration that a man, little thrown among women, is apt to feel for those of his fireside. Then, too, these were the relics of a wife most fondly cherished, and he constantly saw in them traits and expressions which brought her to mind, and filled his heart with tenderness.

They, in turn, fairly adored the tall, brawny man, whose whole bearing bespoke self-restraint, and the calm exercise of authority, and if his attitude towards them was both chivalrous and tender, theirs to him was fondly admiring and respectful.

"I've been waiting for you ten minutes," he said, flinging his cigar away. Then he beckoned to a sailor who, cap in hand, stood by, and giving him a low order, led the girls off at a brisk pace, saying, "Jack will see to your luggage; I've something to show you before we leave."

With one on either arm he walked them rapidly among the bales, boxes, cordage, wagons, lumber, and people crowding the wharf, then turned abruptly townwards, entered a short, lane-like street, and finally stopped at a low, quaint-looking old shop, leaning in a tired manner against a larger building beyond, thus throwing its doors and windows into such oblique angles that Hope declared it made her feel dizzy. A little dark man--doubtless to match the little dark house--bowed with much suavity in the doorway, as if expecting them, and the captain at once addressed him.

"Here we are, Beppo! Bring them along, and be quick about it." But, though his words were commanding, his eyes twinkled at the man, who, ducking his black head once more, disappeared within.

The girls peered into the doorway, from which issued a by-no-means agreeable odor, and their father asked, laughingly.

"Shall we go in?"

"I think not," said Faith, holding her handkerchief to her dainty little nose, "but what are those queer--why!" She jumped and caught at her father, for some one had seemed to ask in a gruff voice, right at her ear, "What d'ye want?"

Her father laughed outright.

"Scared you, eh? Look out, Hope!" for the latter had stepped inside.

She answered merrily.

"Oh, Faith, come! What you heard was a parrot. And there are a lot of birds--oh! and cats--such queer ones. Do come and see."

But at this minute, from some inner apartment Beppo reappeared, a cage in either hand. In one perched a parrot of gorgeous plumage, in the other crouched a beautiful Angora cat, large and tawny, its great brush of a tail curled disconsolately about its ears.

"What a lovely kitten!" cried Faith, "and so frightened. Poor, poor Pussy!"

"And such a saucy parrot!" chimed in Hope. "Isn't it handsome, though?"

"He talka--oh, mocha he talka," observed Beppo, holding the cages on high with a prideful air. "An' he pussa ver' fine, yes."

"Well, girls, which do you like the better?" said the captain. "I know it's the thing to give presents to out-going travelers, and I want to do everything shipshape. But flowers are a nuisance the second day out, and fruit a drug, so I thought a pet was the thing. It's only to decide which it shall be."

"Oh, if we can't have both, do let's take the parrot; don't you say so, Faith?"

"Why, if you wish it, of course, dear, but"--her gaze rested lingeringly upon the other cage.

"But you want the Persian cat, I see, daughter," put in the captain. "Well, well, let's have both, Beppo. We'll find some place to stow 'em, no doubt. Have you somebody by to carry them to the steamer?"

"Me go," cried the man, grinning broadly in delight over this trade, "me vife she stay--me go."

"But couldn't I carry the poor kitten in my arms, she seems to feel being a prisoner so?" asked Faith, distressed for the pet she loved already.

"He might scratch you," said the captain, but Beppo shook his head.

"Noa, noa, he gooda; but he getta waya. Dis safa. Betta go cagea."

"Drat the cage!" shouted a hoarse voice, and Faith nearly fell over backwards, while Hope danced up and down in merry laughter.

"It's my parrot! Oh, father, _does_ he swear? What will we do with him?"

The captain was silently shaking with merriment, but drew himself together and turned sternly to the man. "Beppo, you declared that was a refined, clean-talking bird--now, didn't you? I told you it was for a young lady."

The man's face fell and he broke into profuse apologies, which grew more unintelligible as they increased in vehemence. Out of it all they managed to gather that this was the parrot's worst expression, and only lately learned of a "badda carpentiera," who had found difficulty in fashioning the wooden cage he was making, and had used "badda wodda" in consequence. Hope could scarcely wait till he had finished to cry, anxiously,

"But, father, it isn't a real swear-word, now, is it? And anyhow we can teach him to do better. Do, _do_ let me have him!"

Her father gave her a merry glance.

"They say some women really like to hear a man use strong expressions--now, it can't be you are like that--or is it that you want somebody to reform, eh? However, if you can stand it I can--sailors have to get used to such things. I can't say I've ever found it really necessary to swear though, as some of them maintain. I can do a considerable amount of ordering in the worst storm going, and remember to rule my tongue as well as my crew. In fact, I won't have anything of the kind aboard, so, my dear, if your bird begins by breaking my rules, what then?"

"I shall teach him better. Parrots say what they are taught, and if he does not hear it, he won't talk it."

"Well, then, if you'll take him in hand--come on, Beppo, we must be moving," and the little procession began its march.

Faith drew a long breath of relief.

"Well," she remarked, with a dainty lifting of the brows that always made the captain think of his girl-wife, so long lost to him, "I'm decidedly grateful that my cat cannot talk. He won't be able to disgrace us, at least."

Chapter III.

New Surroundings.

"Oh, Hope, I wish they wouldn't! Doesn't it seem too hard? Those poor mothers and sisters--"

"And sweethearts," added Hope under her breath, watching with great eyes. "I don't mind so much those that make so much noise about it, like that big woman by the post, but this little group over here; they do feel awfully, and my heart aches for them."

The girls were standing on the deck of the "International," watching the last adieux on shore. A small squad of British soldiery were about embarking, and the home friends were gathered on the wharf, waiting for a last glimpse of their beloved boys. The "big woman" Hope mentioned had made such violent demonstrations, insisting upon following her red-cheeked son about and weeping on his shoulder, that he had fled before the laughter of his brothers-in-arms, and hidden in some nook on board, leaving her to find solace in a vile-looking black pipe, which she was just lighting with an equanimity that did not suggest an entirely heart-broken condition. The group mentioned consisting of the intelligent-looking young officer in charge of the squad, and three women, who were evidently mother, sister, and friend.

They visited in low tones till the last minute, but at the final separation the poor mother turned from her red-coat's embrace, nearly fainting in her daughter's arms, and the poor fellow, looking back at the three pale faces, had staggered a little in his own walk, as if overcome by emotion, as he rallied his men for embarkation. Just as the gang-plank slid inside upon its rollers, however, something happened which brought back the ever-ready laughter to the girls' lips. A young exquisite, with a monocle who had been hovering around one party, in which were two or three pretty girls whose sly fun at his expense he was too dense to appreciate, thought it would be a cunning thing to fling after them the handkerchief he had pretended to drench with regretful tears; but being very close to the edge of the wharf he miscalculated his balance, and would have toppled into the water, but that a burly tar, standing close by, caught him by his waistband and dragged him back to safety, swearing a round oath at him for his foolishness.

The poor little dandy's natty straw hat and monocle were lost, though, but worse yet was the shout of laughter that arose from ship and shore, at his expense, mingled with cheers for the big sailor. Crestfallen enough, he was glad to sink back into the crowd and become inconspicuous, for once. But no one on the steamer gave him further attention, for, as they swung out into deep water with that majestic motion in which a great vessel seems to courtesy to the deep, there was too much of great interest to look at.

The girls had thoroughly examined their fine stateroom, which opened from their father's cabin, a day or so before, and now, having hastily deposited the cat, parrot, and luggage within in its doors, were prepared to spend this first hour of their journey in making good use of their eyes. It happened to be a fine day, clear and mild, with little air stirring, and even the most tearful of the passengers soon began to feel the influence of the fine air and lively scenes about them.

As they passed Fort Monckton some regimental band was practising a martial air, which came in softened strains across the water, and it seemed as if Spithead roadway were fairly alive with craft of every description, from a gun-ship seeking dry dock for repairs, to a slender racing wherry, whose one occupant, bareheaded and armed, flung up an oar in greeting, as the stately "International" steamed by.

Hope turned almost reluctantly from all this life and movement to watch the fertile shores of the Isle of Wight, but Faith fell at once under their spell, and could scarcely be persuaded to talk, so busy were her eyes noting the rich verdure and picturesqueness of the wooded scene. As they neared Cowes she pointed to a massive tower, which loomed up amid the thick verdure, and observed,

"See, Hope, there's Osborne House, one of our queen's castles, isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes," said Hope, "and there's a sloop flying an American flag--see? Ah! it's saluting--now watch our colors, Faith; isn't that pretty? And aren't you glad we sail under both? There's a book named 'Under Two Flags,' and I've wondered what it is about. Our father's steamer sails under both the American and British, and I'm so proud of both I want to huzza every time I see them!"

The breeze was freshening by this, so that they felt the need of more wraps, and decided to go below for them. As they slowly paced across the broad deck their eyes roved from group to group, and they began already to decide which would, and would not, be desirable acquaintances. In turn, many eyes followed them, and they caught such expressions as--"Did you ever see such a resemblance? How beautiful they are, and how exactly alike," and the whisper, "Who are they?" passed from lip to lip, for, having roamed all over this great ocean hotel more than once, when "visiting papa," the twins now went about with an assurance few passengers had yet attained to.

Besides the sight of two mere girls apparently unattended, is a most unusual thing abroad, and so our sisters seemed, this morning, for their father was too busy with his many duties to attend upon them when he knew they were perfectly at home, here. As they entered their pretty cabin, for so the English oftenest designate a first-class stateroom, a pitiful "miew," long drawn out, and at once answered by a hoarse "Shut up!" greeted their ears. The poor kitten was evidently suffering, and the naughty parrot scolding her for complaining.

"It's a wicked shame to keep my fine Angora in that cage!" cried Faith, with unusual spirit, "And you must teach that rude fellow not to scold at her."

Hope smiled good-naturedly.

"How can I help his talking, dear? But why can't we let kitty out, now? Shut the door and have her get used to it here, first. How pretty this room is! Wasn't it lovely of father to fit it up freshly for us?"

"Of course it was!" cried a well-known bass voice, and a blue-capped head appeared at the inner door. "Going to let Puss out, girlies?" asked the captain. "Wait, I'll assist you."

He was soon down upon his knees fumbling with the cage, the girls watching him in eager anticipation; and this seems an excellent opportunity to describe the pretty apartment. It was about twelve feet square, and its two narrow white bedsteads were set side by side beneath the starboard portholes, and safely screwed to the floor, leaving a narrow space beyond, which gave opportunity to reach the convenient wardrobe there. In one corner, at the foot of the beds, was the stationary wash-stand with cleated shelves above, and a cunning pigeon-hole arrangement for shoes below--"Anything but footless boots clattering around in a gale!" said Captain Hosmer. In the other corner was a dear little toilet-stand, built in securely, and fitted below with triangular drawers, which shut fast with a click, and were opened with a spring. Its top was beveled out into fanciful squares and rounds, into which deep trays for toilet articles were secured, and, above, a mirror of goodly size was also screwed to place. Between these was the door that led to a narrow corridor leading directly to the deck in one direction, to one of the saloons in the other.

Along the wall space, opposite the wardrobe, were light racks for books, wraps, and knick-knacks, and below a long seat, or lounge, covered in white dimity, with its flounce reaching to the floor. The top to this could be raised, and the space beneath made a most handy place for the bestowal of cloaks and gowns. All the decorating of walls and panels was in white and pale green, pricked out with gold; and a small door close beside the bed-heads opened into the captain's cabin.

This was a foot or two larger, and of irregular shape, its deck-wall forming a swell, in which were three broad windows which gave a view of the sea for a full half-circle of the horizon. It also overlooked the forward deck, the watchful lookout on the bridge, the busy sailors at their tasks, and gave glimpses of the steerage at long range. It was richly paneled in leather, with much gilding, the draperies were of crimson damask, and the seat which followed the window's swell was cushioned in crimson plush, all of which gave it a snug, shut-in look. A large table with a constant litter of maps, charts, sextants, log-books, pipes, and tobacco jars, occupied the center, and comfortable chairs were placed around in careless order. There were a few books in some wall-shelves, a violin case in one corner--which instrument the captain loved to practise on, though he was no proficient--and one or two pretty India cabinets of lacquered work, containing odd specimens, and fine curios from many countries.

His sleeping apartment, off at one side, which filled in the irregular triangle left from the rounded end, was a mere closet with a narrow bunk, "hard as iron," as Faith often disconsolately remarked, and a folding bath. The captain asked no personal luxuries, yet no father ever lived who was more lavish in bestowing every refinement of dainty living upon his daughters.

The girls liked to speak of his cabin as the "library," and mostly did so, much to its owner's amusement, who seldom read any book except the log, or the daily writings of the weather on sea and sky.

"There!" he said, as he succeeded in loosening the cage door. "Now come out, Mr. Puss, and make friends. What are you going to name him, Faith?"

"What would you, father? It ought to be a Persian name, oughtn't it?"

"That might do--if you don't get too much of a jaw-breaker, child. Remember, I'm not learned."

"The idea! When you can rattle off those Indian names that I cannot understand at all, Just as if they were everyday Hatties and Kitties and Pollys."

He smiled.

"Oh, of course. I'm used to them. But Persian's another thing, I suppose. Come, kitty, don't be afraid--whew!" for, in spite of coaxing, the frightened creature made a dash past him, as he would have stroked its silky coat, and disappeared under the white valance of the nearest bed.

Instantly Faith was on her knees, diving after, but nearly fell over with laughter when Mr. Parrot called out promptly, in a shocked voice, "Oh, for shame!"

Amid the laughter the captain remarked quickly, "I have it! Who was that Persian poet you were reading about the other night, in Portsea, Faith? Why not name him that? Don't you remember, he was said to be rather a shy, retiring man. Now, kitty, here, seems to have the same disposition."

Faith was now scrambling out, warm and tumbled, Puss safe in her arms, but only half yielding to restraint, and, smiling at her father's funny glance, she answered, gasping a little with her exertions,

"It was Hafiz, papa. I had thought of Ali Baba, but that always suggests the forty thieves, you know, and I wouldn't like my pretty Angora to be accused of stealing even cream--father, do you suppose he's hungry?"

"Bless us! Just as likely as not. Wait, I'll send Joey for some milk at once," touching an electric button just above the seat. "I see Mr. Parrot has his dinner in his cage. Well, shall it be Hafiz?"

"I believe that will do," returned Faith slowly, "and what will you name your bird, Hope?"

"Oh, I'm not going so far for a name as all that, only to America, and I shall call him Texas."

Her father, smiling at her ideas of distance, joined Faith in her surprised question, "But why?"

"Why? Because I've always thought, from things I've read about Texas, that it's a jolly, wide-awake state, but not over-refined, perhaps. It has always seemed to me they did rather dreadful things there, but in an off-hand, good-natured sort of way, that made them seem more funny than really bad. I don't think I can make it quite plain to you, but that's the way my parrot acts. He is not so wicked as he seems, and I shall certainly call him Texas."

At this instant the boy, who had been electrically summoned, appeared. He was a Japanese, with a good face, now in a broad smile as he received his orders, and the quick glance by which he took in the pretty room and its lively occupants was alert and well pleased. He had waited upon the captain for years, spoke perfect English, and was the most faithful and good-tempered of lackeys. He soon reappeared with some rich-looking milk, which poor Hafiz eagerly began to lap, so soon as Faith had poured some into a saucer, and for the first time a soft purring sounded from his white-collared throat.

"There!" said his little mistress, watching him in great satisfaction, "he really was half starved. Now, don't you see how like our Persian poet he is, father? You remember Hafiz liked to sing of all comfortable things--good living, and so on. Here is my Hafiz doing the same thing."

"Only his language is not entirely comprehensible," laughed her sister.

"Could you have understood the real poet any better?" was the arch response, and Hope had to acknowledge that, for all practical purposes, the Angora Hafiz was as intelligible as his namesake.

Chapter IV.

Introductions.

When they went back upon deck Faith had the pacified Hafiz in her arms, and was inclined to sympathize with her sister, who could not carry Texas about in that manner. But Hope needed no consolation. "Possibly I cannot, yet," she allowed, "but wait a while. I intend to tame Texas, and then I shall have him to perch on my wrist like a falcon. And, just now, I don't know that I care to be hampered by any sort of a baby," laughing mischievously, for Faith looked quite motherly, with the kitten wrapped in a fold of her cape.

They had come above to see the lighthouse and Hurst Castle, at the opening into the Channel, which seemed to be held out from the mainland by a long, thin arm of soil. The Channel here narrows to about a mile in width, and these objects loom up conspicuously to the starboard of the outbound steamer. As they stood watching from the hurricane deck, to which they had ascended, and admiring not only the bright scene before them, but also the splendor and cleanliness of their father's ship, a boyish voice was heard to exclaim,

"Well, I've explored as far as they'll let me, and I say she's a dandy! I believe she'll compare pretty well with the P. & O. liners, after all, don't you, Bess?" And up through the companionway came a head in a yachting-cap, followed by a slender boy in gray, with a frank, but homely visage.

He gave the girls a keen glance, which they more modestly returned, and they privately decided, after a second look, that his eyes were fine and his smile a pleasant one, if he was slightly snub-nosed and freckled.

Just behind him came the "Bess" of his question, a rather delicate young lady in appearance, possibly in her early twenties, the boy being at least four years younger. She was not pretty, but as her eyes lighted upon the sisters, she too smiled so pleasantly, they were at once drawn to her, and returned the wordless greeting with more than civility. Then Hope broke out, impulsively,

"We are watching the lighthouse. Doesn't it loom up well? Almost as if we were going to run into it."

"True enough," returned "Bess," as both drew nearer, and the boy added, to Faith,

"You've got an Angora, haven't you? We left one at home, didn't we, Bess? He's a splendid fellow, Chimmie Fadden is!"

"Chimmie Fadden? What a funny name!" laughed the twins in chorus.

"It's out of a story," he explained, "a Van Bibber story, and really means Jimmy, you know, but that's the way the boy pronounced it himself. He acts timid," this in reference to Hafiz, who burrowed under Faith's arm, resenting his advances.

"Yes, he doesn't like it on board, at all. It's all too strange, yet. Father gave him to me just before we started, and he hasn't become used to anything--not even me."

"And I've a parrot," put in Hope. "_He_ takes it out in scolding. I shall not dare have him on deck until he gets over his sulks, and will talk nice things. So far, he is a bit rude and outspoken for polite society."

Their light talk and laughter seemed to break all ice between them, if there had been any to break, and the young lady asked,

"Do you go far? I noticed you on the forward deck. It is seldom one sees two people so exactly alike. Can even your own mother tell you apart?"

"Our mother we have never known, she died when we were so little," said Faith gently, "but Debby, our nurse, always knew, and so does father. Very few others do, though."

"Is your father with you?"

"Oh, yes, indeed!" laughed Hope. "We couldn't very well do without him--"

"Oh, I know, I know. He's the _captain_! Isn't he now?" cried the boy. "I heard the head steward saying something to another officer about the captain's daughters. Haven't I made a good guess?"

"You certainly have," said Faith.

"Then your name is Hosmer," added the boy, triumphantly. "I've been over nearly the whole steamer, and she's fine! And I know our captain quite well, and like him first-rate, already."

"Oh, you do?" laughed his sister. "Well, now you have ferreted out who these young ladies are, I think we ought to introduce ourselves. This is my brother, Dwight Vanderhoff, of New York City, America, and I am his sister Elizabeth, generally shortened to Bess. We are going with our mother and uncle, Mr. Dwight Lawrence, for whom this youngster is named, to India, and intend to make an extended tour. We have been on the Continent and in the British Isles for three or four months, and haven't lost any of our Yankee enthusiasm and curiosity yet, as you see."

"And we're American, too!" cried Hope.

"And English," added Faith.

"Why, how is that?"

The latter explained.

"Well, if that isn't jolly!" said Dwight. "To be sure, this steamer's the 'International,' and sails under both flags. I noticed our old 'star-spangled' along with the Union Jack, and wondered. Do you see, Bess?"

"Of course I see, and am delighted. I shall consider it a good omen for our voyage."

"Especially as she carries Faith and Hope with her," remarked the latter, with a merry glance at her sister.

"Certainly," returned Bess obliviously, but Dwight broke in,

"Wait! You mean something special by that; I see it in your eyes. Let me guess again. Faith and hope--faith and hope--I once knew a girl named Faith--say! I'll bet a cooky those are your names. Aren't they, now?"

"Right again!" laughed Hope, while he jumped about, clapping his hands in ecstasy.

"Hear that, Bess Vanderhoff? Uncle always said I was a regular Yankee for guessing, and that shows it. But those are stunning names for twins--"

"Dwight, Dwight! What an expression to describe those lovely words."

"Well, it was rather off, Bess. I beg your pardon, Miss Faith and Miss--but which is which, and how will I know if you tell me? It's a regular Chinese puzzle, for you are precisely the same until you speak, and then there's a difference. For you," he pointed towards Hope, "look somehow--well, jollier, I guess it is."

"Don't be personal, Dwight," admonished his sister.

"But it's a personal subject, sis, how can I help it? May I make one more try at it?"

"As many as you like," laughed Hope.

"Well, then, if you're named as you ought to be you are Hope, because you look it, and she--"

He was interrupted by a little cry from Faith, who had been watching the scenery more closely than the others. They followed her gaze and were silenced a while by the impressive scene, for the Channel was opening broadly before them, its cold green waves curling into foam-tipped breakers, while the Needles, those natural turrets of the deep, rose in stately fashion from the waters, seemingly in their very path, as if here the bold voyager must needs be challenged before venturing further. The narrow Solent was passed and a wider roadway was to be theirs for many a day. But after a little, Dwight's irrepressible spirits broke out afresh, and he returned to the charge, evidently determined to be at no loss when addressing these girls, whom he secretly chose as companions for Bess and himself out of the whole passenger list. He finished his guess concerning Hope, and once more proved his right to American citizenship.

"But why do I look my name?" she asked curiously.

"Can't tell; you just do, that's all. I'm a guesser, but I can't explain why, at all.

"You may know me by my cat--Hafiz the poet, at your service," said her sister merrily.

"But when you don't have the cat, Miss Faith? One of you ought to tie on a pink ribbon somewhere, and one a blue."

"Yes, and then we'd be like the old woman with her eggs," put in Bess. "It would be sink or swim--pink or blue--but which? I think I'd rather learn you by closer observation, and you mustn't mind if I stare a good deal for a time.

"Oh, no, people always do stare," said Hope nonchalantly, which was, indeed, the truth. The sisters had become so used to this attention in public that they were able to appear unconscious of it always, whether really so or not. For, being sensible girls, they did not attribute this at all to their fair, fresh faces, but to the resemblance between them, enough of a novelty in this world of diversities to be always observable.

They were well out into the Channel when summoned to luncheon, and only waited long enough for a good look back at the beautifully wooded shores before they went below. The first meal at sea is always an interesting one. It is a matter of great moment to many in what part of the saloon they will be assigned a place, and of course the special honor of sitting at the captain's table is desired by all, though attained by few.

As they were descending towards the cabin, to join their father, Faith, ever thoughtful of others, said in a low voice.

"Don't you wish we could have the Vanderhoff party at our table, Hope?"

"True enough. It would be fine! Let's ask father."

"But you know he leaves all that to Mr. Malcolm, and I don't believe we ought to meddle."

Mr. Malcolm was the head steward, and it was an excellent rule of Captain Hosmer's to interfere as little as possible with the special prerogatives of his officers, who in turn always tried their best to please him. Mr. Malcolm knew his duties thoroughly, and did them.

This the girls knew, hence the disclaimer from thoughtful Faith,

"Oh dear! It would be so pleasant. And father ought to have a say about his own table--"

"But you know he's always consulted, dear, and by this time everything is planned."

"Well, we might be consulted, too."

"Why, Hope! When he has planned everything to make it pleasant for us."

Hope's pout died out into a shamefaced smile.

"There, there! Consider it unsaid, Miss Wisdom. Guess I can appreciate the dear man, myself--and there he is looking for us now."

Quite over her pet, she ran to meet him, and his tender smile met their upturned faces.

"Ah, girlies, I was just coming for you. I'll see you in to the table and join you presently. Just now I'm busy, but Malcolm and Joey will look after you. I didn't forget that my little girls were along when we fixed up the table-list, and you'll see they are not all ponderous elderly people with titles, this time. Come on!"

The sisters exchanged glances, and Hope in a spasm of repentance, murmured, "Oh papa, you're too good to us!" which he only half caught as Faith just then remarked,

"But Hafiz--I'll have to--"

"Here, Jack,"--to a passing attendant,--"take this kitten to my cabin, and see that the door is shut into the large stateroom, off. Hafiz and Texas are better apart until time has cemented their friendship," he added, with a twinkle, turning again to his daughters. "Now hurry!" and he raced them merrily down the companion-way, and through the after saloon, to the great apartment set out with table after table, in a bewildering vista of white linen, glittering silver, and shining crystal.

As they stepped to their places Hope nearly gave a hop of pleasure, for on one side were Bess and Dwight, with a tall lady whom Bess greatly resembled, and a rather magnificent gentleman, whose whole air bespoke one used to power, to luxury, and to travel.

The others consisted of two or three officers, an outgoing Indian official who wrote Sir before his name, a famous traveler, a minister from America, and a Russian writer of note. The ladies were fewer, there being only three besides Mrs. Vanderhoff. One was the wife of the English baronet, and the other two seemed traveling together, but in what relation was not apparent. One was past middle life, and fine-looking, with snowy hair, brilliant eyes, and a polished speech and manner. The other was, as the sisters rather hastily decided, not prepossessing in appearance, having a reserved and haughty manner. She seldom spoke, and was either preoccupied, or indifferent.

The captain, with a courteous general greeting, introduced his daughters, then seated them, one on either side of his own place, when, with a word to Joey, whose manner was eagerly attentive, he hastened back to his post, leaving them to their own devices. Bess at once presented them to her mother and uncle, the latter in turn mentioning the names of the Indian official, Sir Wilbur Lawton, his wife and the traveler, whose famous cognomen may not be written here. Then he glanced half inquiringly at the two ladies, who were evidently strangers to him, when she of the white hair said gracefully,

"And let me present to all, my friend, Lady Moreham."

Then, as her companion did not return the favor, she added, "And I am Mrs. Poinsett."

The younger people were too well trained to monopolize conversation, but listened with pleasure to the talk between the gentlemen concerning hunting of "big game" in India, with which both the traveler and Sir Wilbur seemed well acquainted, Mr. Lawrence asking intelligent questions, and the Russian whose name was almost unpronounceable, putting in a broken sentence, or two, now and then. The ladies mostly listened, also, but occasionally the two who were companions conversed in low tones. Lady Lawton, who was extremely fleshy, devoted herself exclusively to her luncheon.

The twins, meanwhile, made their observations with the promptitude of youth. They liked Mrs. Vanderhoff, whose manner was quiet and sensible, in accord with her dress and appearance, and they also fancied Mrs. Poinsett, but the one called Lady Moreham they decided was disagreeable, and too proud of her rank to be sociable. They were glad she sat at the further end of the table, and Hope remarked, as she bent forward for the pepper-box. "There's a regular specimen of your British aristocracy, Faith Hosmer. You must feel proud of it!"

But Faith only smiled, as she murmured in return, "Judge not!" then, with her charming smile, answered Mr. Lawrence's question with a "No, sir, it is our first trip to India. We have often been to Cowes, or Plymouth, with father, but never far from English shores, except once, when we spent a year in Massachusetts, at the time he was mate of the 'Glasgow.'"

"Ah, in what part? Boston, I presume?"

"Yes, sir, Boston, Lynn, Salem; but we lived at Lynn."

Here Bess broke in to briefly explain the double nationality claimed by the girls, and for a rather embarrassing minute the attention of the table seemed concentrated upon them. Amid the fusillade of question and comment Hope noticed Lady Moreham's eyes suddenly flash and soften--she could almost have thought there were tears in them, indeed. But why? At any rate, she began to think there might be some redeeming traits, even in this "specimen of British aristocracy."

Chapter V.

"On The Bay Of Biscay, O!"

The meal was scarcely over, when there was a perceptible change in the movement of the steamship, for, no longer sheltered by the Isle of Wight, they soon discovered that what they had always heard of the broad English Channel is true, and found it one of the roughest sheets of water known. Faith soon began to look "white around the gills," as Mr. Malcolm teasingly informed her, and when she said she "thought she would go and look after Hafiz," Hope rallied and ridiculed her, well backed by Dwight, who was a born sailor; but Bess evidently sympathized with her, and began herself to look wan.

Faith had gone indoors--they were on the forward deck upon which the captain's cabin, or "library," opened, and Hope had been watching her zig-zag progress across it, laughing merrily, when, with the suddenness of a lightning-stroke, everything grew black and began to spin around her. She looked helplessly at Dwight, whose grinning face was like that of a whirling dervish, made a little lurch forward, and would have fallen, but that watchful Mr. Malcolm caught her just in time. He at once sent a boy for the stewardess, and they soon had the half-unconscious girl safe inside her own stateroom door, where Faith looked up drowsily from her little bed to remark,

"Why, what's the matter? Did she get hurt?"

"Oh, no, only faint," returned the woman smiling broadly, while she unfastened Hope's gown and assisted her upon the other bed. "There's the pair of you."

"Two fools!" remarked the parrot, with such appropriateness that even Hope had to join feebly in the woman's jolly laughter, while Faith plucked up strength to gibe a little in return for her sister's attack on deck.

"There, now, all you've got to do is to lie still," said the stewardess, as she turned away. "Why, you little kitten! Where did you come from?" for Hafiz, curled down snugly by Faith, had just attracted her notice. "Is he yours, Miss Faith?"

"Yes, Martha. Papa gave him to me, and do let papa know, please, how sick we are, so that he can look in on us when he has time," she added, for, unaccustomed to illness, she felt they were almost in danger of their lives, now.

When, however, a little later, their father peered in with a laughing face to rally them, and declared in cheery tones that they were "just getting their sea-legs, and would be good sailors in a day or two," they took heart, and both soon drowsed off into hazy slumber. But neither wanted any dinner that night, and did not attempt much exertion until late the next day. Hope awoke, feeling much brighter, and felt that the motion was not so distressing as yesterday. She looked across at Faith, who lay with closed eyes, pale indeed, but peaceful.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

"Yes," returned her sister, opening her eyes only to close them at once. "I'm awake, but it's the queerest thing. So long as I keep my eyes closed I'm quite comfortable, but when I open them I feel as if I were in a high swing just ready to tumble out; and when Texas gets to pitching around in his cage, and hanging fairly upside down, and whirling around like a crazy thing, it makes me a great deal worse."

Hope laughed.

"Poor Texas! I don't think he's very happy himself. I wonder, are birds ever seasick, really? I've heard they often mope and die on shipboard, but is it seasickness?"

"I'm sure I don't know--but let's not talk about it! What time do you suppose it is, Hope?"

"Oh, somewhere along in the afternoon. Somebody says there's no time at sea--it's all now. Heigh-ho! I've half a mind to get up and dress--why-y, what's that?"

Sure enough! Even Faith opened her eyes wide to stare upward, for there was something sliding through one of the portholes above their heads, and dropping softly downwards--a small package done up in crinkly pink paper, and tied neatly about with blue lutestring.

"It's father!" cried Hope, as she scrambled to her knees to peer out, but she could see nobody on the narrow guards without.

Meanwhile Faith grasped the little packet and began to untie it, forgetting her illness in her eagerness.

The paper, when opened, disclosed two sea biscuits--the square, thin kind, like a soda cracker--and upon each was painted a tiny marine view in water-colors, while beneath was a couplet done in fanciful lettering. One read,

"Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked--as Kosciusko fell,"

while the other bore the legend,

"Our Faith, a star, shone o'er a rocky height; The billows rose, and she was quenched in night."

"How absurd! How funny! Who did it?" they cried in concert, forgetting all ill feelings as they laughed till the tears came.

"It never was father," said Hope, when she could get her voice. "The dear man couldn't repeat a line of poetry to save his life. That one about Kosciusko used to be in one of our school speakers, don't you know?"

"Yes, it's Campbell's." Faith always remembered more accurately than her sister, while the latter learned more readily. "But who would ever think of applying it so oddly? The play on our names is bright enough, but--I'll tell you, I'll tell you! It was that boy--Dwight Vanderhoff. I just believe it! He is clever, I'm sure, and his uncle could help him."

"As likely as not--or Mr. Malcolm--but no, I don't believe he would. He is full of fun, but dignified too, and he never forgets we are the captain's daughters. It must be that boy! Martha Jordan says he hasn't been ill a minute, and that he knows everybody on shipboard, already, and they all like him."

The stewardess was fond of the girls, and in her frequent visits had brought them every bit of news she could pick up, to lighten their confinement. She appeared while they were conjecturing, and said,

"Aha! Well, aren't you?"

"Almost," said Faith, as both began telling the story of their package.

Martha appeared much interested, but there was a look on her honest face that seemed to say she was not so densely ignorant of the matter as she pretended to be, and, while she assisted them into their long, flannel-lined ulsters and close caps, for a visit to the upper deck, where she declared the fresh wind would blow their last qualms away, they tried to learn just what she did know, but without success. Giving it up, finally, Hope proposed that they wear the sea-biscuit as ornaments, and see who should look most conscious when they drew near.

"A good idea! And where is that box of ribbons? Let's find a pink and blue, if we can."

"Tell me where you put it and I'll look," said Martha, much amused, and, when found, she punched a hole through one corner of the pasty squares, and tied each to a button of the ulsters. Hope's was pink, and Faith's blue.

Thus equipped, she started them up the companion-way, and seeing they were reasonably firm on their feet, went about her business, chuckling to herself as if greatly enjoying something. As they appeared above, they received a merry greeting from their father, who sat chatting with Mr. Lawrence to leeward of a smokestack, which gave a grateful warmth, as the day was a typical November one, gray and chill.

Both gentlemen sprang up to offer chairs, and congratulate them upon their courage in venturing out, and they were barely seated, when up came Dwight, trying to keep under a most amazing grin that persisted in stretching his mouth from ear to ear.

"Well, this is good!" he cried, shaking hands with a nourish. "I knew, if you'd just make a try at it, you'd be all right. If everybody would stick it out and stay on deck, as I do, there'd be no such thing as seasickness."

"Oh, the conceit of him!" laughed his uncle. "Stick it out, indeed! Why, you don't know what it means, you healthy young rascal. You have the stomach of a goat!"

To divert attention, possibly, Dwight suddenly turned to the girls, and inspected them with apparent curiosity.

"You seem to be decorated, this afternoon," he remarked in a non-committal tone, "and got on your pink and blue ribbons, I declare!"

His gaze rested on the sea-biscuit, and he lowered his eyelids to hide the laugh behind them.

"You didn't know we had decorations on this ship?" asked Hope teasingly. "Only a few get them. They are for good conduct under trying conditions. We have been ill, but not disagreeably ill. There's a difference."

The gentlemen were looking at the painted squares, now, and her father said, "What's that nonsense, my dear? What are they, anyhow?"

"Just something the stormy petrels dropped through our porthole," said Faith, gravely taking up the tale. "Aren't they pretty?"

"H'm! Quite so." Mr. Lawrence was also indulging in a long look. "Did a merman paint them for you? And what sea-king got up that poetry? It seems well selected, if not entirely original." He glanced at his nephew quizzically, and added, "I suppose the other name of that Freedom who shrieked was Dwight, wasn't it? Pretty well, sir, pretty well! I recognize the work. Your style is original, Mr. Artist Vanderhoff."

"And didn't you help him one bit, Mr. Lawrence?" asked Faith.

"Did not even know of it, Miss Hosmer."

"Then I call it a mighty smart performance!" cried Hope in a tone of finality which brought a hearty laugh from the group.

"Clever enough!" decided the captain, as he spelled out the twisted lines, and chuckled over them. "You're quite an artist, young man. I remember, a few years back, I had a whole crew of the long-haired profession aboard, and a jolly, turbulent set they were. They decorated the ship from stem to gudgeon in all sorts of unexpected places, and almost disorganized my Lascars, snatching them off duty to pose as models. I had to threaten to driven 'em below at the rope's end, and batten down the hatches, to bring them to reason. But they made fun for us the whole voyage, and I was sorry to see the last of them at Gibraltar."

The steamer was now in the broad Bay of Biscay, which washes the bold shores of France and Spain, and the water had that compact hue of dark azure, with occasional greenish lights, that tells of deep soundings.

As they forged ahead, to the steady drum-beat of the engines, the broad swirl of water, churned into foam by the great propellers at the stern, marked their path as far back as the eye could reach. The weather was fitful, and the sky cleared somewhat toward sunset, but its light was cold, and threatening clouds hung close upon its edge. The treacherous weather predicted of the bay might be upon them soon, though as yet it had been "all plain sailing," as the captain observed.

"It's either here, or on the Indian seas," he said laughingly. "Somewhere, we'll have to take it! It is not often we get through without a little shaking up, somewhere. 'Twould scarcely be possible in so long a voyage."

"About how long does it take you?" asked Mr. Lawrence, lazily watching the line of faint silvery blue, streaking the horizon.

"Oh, I usually make it inside of thirty days, when our stops aren't too long," returned the captain. "Of course the P. & O. liners, being mail-carriers, do it in much less time. But they're built for speed, and make fewer stops. Then, we tramp steamers always give them the right of way in harbor--hello!"

He rose to his feet, his keen eyes looking off to starboard, while at the same instant came a cry from the lookout, "Sail to starboard, aft!"

The others, following the captain's gaze, saw something like a faint smudge growing on the horizon's line against the faintly tinted hue, and, even as they watched, it deepened to a waving plume.

"Come!" said he, and they followed him to the bridge, where, giving each a turn at the glass, they watched the plume until a shape was attached to it, and it grew into a graceful steamship, its funnels belching black, and its sails gleaming like shadowy shapes of vapor till they grew near enough to become defined, and materialized by nearness.

"It's one of the liners now--a P. & O!" cried the captain with some excitement. "Isn't she a lady, though? Watch her gait! She's as steady and swift as the stars in their courses. You'll see her colors soon."

He sang out an order or two, then turned to answer Faith who, with her eyes fixed on the rapidly nearing steamer, asked dreamily,

"What does P. & O. stand for, papa?"

"Why, don't you know? For goodness' sake, child, what an odd question for a seaman's daughter to ask!"

"But I surely don't know. I never heard anything but P. & O. and I never even thought to ask before."

"Well, it's Peninsular and Oriental, of course--there, see her colors? Those four triangles in blue, white, yellow, and red, at her masthead. Watch while we salute her!"

The beautiful courtesy was given and exchanged, the great steamer passing at so close range that they could see the clustered groups upon her immense decks, note the fluttering handkerchiefs, and hear their cheers, in response to those from the "International," ringing faint, yet clear, across the watery space between.

"That's the 'London,'" said the captain dropping his glass after a long, admiring gaze, "and, by the way, the old 'London,' a fine, staunch vessel, was wrecked in this very bay years ago."

They watched the leviathan, with its hundreds of passengers, a long time, but at length its greater speed carried it from view in the darkening night, and they were presently reminded, by the signal, that it was time to dress for dinner.

The "International" would have seemed odd, in many respects, to one used only to the trans-Atlantic steamers, for, though entirely officered by English-speaking whites, its crew consisted largely of Malays and Lascars, while the waiters were mostly Japanese and Bengalese, wearing a costume compounded of their native gowns and the white aprons of European waiters. The maids, under Mrs. Jordan, were also East Indian women, and they were very picturesque in their saris, or head coverings, of gay colors, with brilliant teeth gleaming out of their swarthy faces, and eyes like beads for blackness. Even the boys who answered bell-calls and polished the brasses and the shoes, were from Soudan or Bombay, and the stokers down in the engine-room were Seedees, black as the coals they kept flinging into those yawning red mouths, which made one think of an opening into the great pit of Hades.

These Seedees are as near a salamander as a human being can be, perhaps, and certainly they will endure heat that would soon kill a white man. Sometimes, in those southern seas, the temperature of the furnace-room is something unthinkable, yet they endure it; though, as soon as their relief appears, they will fling their steaming, and almost naked, bodies into the scuppers, to let the rush of water wash them into coolness, once more. It was understood that the girls were not to visit any of the lower regions of the ship, without the company of some officer, but Mr. Malcolm was very accommodating, so, matronized by Mrs. Vanderhoff, her party and the twins managed to peep into nearly every hole and corner before the voyage was over. Even where they did not care to go Dwight would penetrate, if by crawling or climbing he could reach the spot.

Before bedtime the steamer had changed its course to westward, and as it encountered a stiff head wind its progress was labored and slow. Most of the passengers early "sought the seclusion that the cabin grants," as Dwight mockingly observed, but, sheltered in the snug pilot-house, our girls, with himself and Bess, rode out the "storm," as Faith called it (though the gray old steersman laughed at the idea), until a late hour. All day there had been a flock of sea-gulls following them, and, attracted by the light, they sometimes dashed against the windows, startling the girls and delighting Dwight. They will follow a steamer much as a fly does a horse, always keeping at just about such a distance, though one would think, in their sky-circling and ocean-dipping, they must lose time occasionally. As these birds of the sea glide down a billow, then skim lightly up again, it would seem they must sometimes be caught in the swirl of foam and borne under, but no! Every time, no matter with what fusilade of spray the wave breaks, Mr. Seagull rises, lightly triumphant, with not so much as a silver feather wetted by salt water!

The night grew very dark, and the sea was turbulent. The late supper--a fourth meal always served on board the "International"--was something of a scramble, but our young people enjoyed it, as few of the older passengers were present, and though an occasional fit of squeamishness disturbed both twins, while Bess had to disappear suddenly, Dwight ate calmly on of everything offered, with an equanimity that tickled Joey, and excited the envy of all. The saloons looked deserted, and only a few mustered for a short look at the light on Finisterre. After seeing it, our girls decided bed was a good place, but Faith thought she had scarcely dropped asleep, though hours had fled, when something seemed to shake her into consciousness, and Hope's agitated voice whispered, "Oh, what is that?"

It was a hoarse, awful, prolonged bellow, as of some giant ox in sore distress, and when it would stop, occasionally, faint and far would come another bellow, mellowed by distance, but sounding unspeakably eerie and frightsome. A bell, too, seemed to be tolling a knell for something, and there was a constant rush of feet on deck, mingled with trumpeted orders and the rattle of cordage. Yet the steamer did not seem to be pitching about at all, as it was when they retired. Could they be going down, and were those awful noises calls for help? And where could they be to have answers coming over the waves like that?

"Oh dear!" sighed Hope. "What can it all mean? Do see if papa is in his cabin; you're on that side."

"Of course he isn't!" answered her sister, more calmly. "When there's danger he's always at his post. And do you suppose, if there was real danger for us, that he wouldn't come and let us know? I can trust my father!"

"Well, so can I," snapped Hope, so disgusted at this superior tone she half forgot her fright. "But it might be that he couldn't get to us, Faith Hosmer! He might be washed overboard."

Something in the idea of her big, cool father being washed off the decks of this staunch ship somehow amused Faith, who really was not much alarmed, and she could not help laughing, which gave fresh offense to her sister, who, breaking into tears, exclaimed, "You're a heartless girl, and ought to be ashamed!"

"Why, Hope!" A soft arm stole around her neck and a little figure "cuddled" close. "You're all wrought up, but really I don't think it's so bad. See how quiet the ship is. I presume we're caught in a fog, or something. Just as likely as not we're off the light, yet, and that is a bell-buoy, or something."

"Dear! I'd like to call a bell-boy, and ask," giggled Hope, a bit hysterical. "Hark! there's papa now."

In an instant the two girls were on their feet peering into the "library."

"Oh, papa, what is it?" cried Hope.

"What's what, my dear?" coming nearer, and showing himself wrapped in tarpaulins from head to heels. "D'ye mean that old tooter?" laughing lightly. "Nothing at all, except that we're in a fog and the horn's got a chill. Now turn in, quick, before you get one, too, and go to sleep, dearies; your father's watching."

"Hope," said her sister, after they had lain still a while. "I think that's a beautiful thought! 'Your father's watching.' It means two fathers for us, dear, and One of them cannot make a mistake, even in a fog. Good night and pleasant dreams. I'm going to sleep."

They kissed and curled down contentedly, sleeping like babies all night. Father was watching!

Chapter VI.

Portuguese Towns And Heroes.

The fog had delayed them some hours, but when the girls awoke, late the next morning, there was not a vestige of it left, save an extra brilliance in the clear air, while the engines were pounding away in a brave effort to bring them into Lisbon by the schedule. As noon approached, and the pale tan of the coast line grew upon them, all was animation on board, for any landing when voyaging by sea, is an event, and especially so when the stay is to be of several hours duration.

Our twins dragged out their flat steamer trunks from under their beds, and pulled out their prettiest street costumes, glad to discard the useful ulster for a light jacket and hat. They were told the weather would be mild on shore, though it was November, and they were delighted to feel themselves really "dressed up" again, as Hope remarked.

"Do you know," put in her sister ruminantly, "there's ever so much difference between being dressed up and well dressed. Now there's Mrs. Vanderhoff; she never is really dressed up, but I have not yet seen her when she was not well dressed for the occasion."

"Faith, if you get to moralizing I shall go distracted! Where _did_ we put our jeweled hat pins? I've looked and looked, and--oh, there they are right under my nose. Goodness! is that a rap?--Ah, is it you, Miss Bess? Come right in. How fine you look in your shore clothes!"

"Shore clothes? That's good! Country people talk about store clothes at home, but I never heard of shore clothes, before."

"Well, it's my invention--an inspiration of the moment. I'll make you a present of it. Do you know, Faith, we'll have to buy some new handkerchiefs, or have ours laundered in some way. I never used so many in my life."

"You might do as the Carrollton girls, from Chicago, did when they were abroad, last year," remarked Bess with a laugh. "There were so many of them that the laundry bills were dreadful, so they concluded to wash out their own handkerchiefs. Of course they had no way of ironing them, so, while they were still very wet, they would plaster them up against the window-panes in the sun, to dry. They said the embroidered ones would come out beautifully, just as if nicely pressed on the wrong side. It got so they would look at the window panes the first thing, when they reached a hotel, or pension, to see if they were large enough for drying-boards. And when they visited the Tuileries, as they all stood in silence, gazing at the great fountain, the lovely flowers, and the lawn of velvet, Minnie suddenly broke out, 'What a beautiful place to dry our handkerchiefs, girls!'"

"How ridiculous!" cried Faith. "I hope no such practical thought will mar the romance of our visit to Lisbon, to-day."

"Oh, nothing could take your romance away," said Hope. "A little more practicality wouldn't hurt you. But come, I'm ready. Let's go up and see the blessed land, even if it is only Portuguese soil."

Thus talking and laughing they hastened deckwards, and many eyes turned upon them with pleasure as they appeared, so bright and rosy, and unconscious of anything but the enjoyment in hand. Even Lady Moreham's face relaxed, and her eyes followed them with a wistful expression, as she remarked, _sotto voce_, "How sweetly they look!"

"Sweet, you mean," hinted Mrs. Poinsett at her elbow, with a deferential air, yet decided tone.

The other turned with a quick, impatient sigh, and half-resentful manner, but in a moment moved closer and said humbly,

"Thank you for the correction! Do not let my smallest errors escape you."

Mrs. Poinsett bent her dignified head.

"I obey you, my lady, though it is hard for both of us."

"Yes, everything is hard, but no matter."

And now all eyes were gazing shorewards, for Lisbon presents a beautiful appearance when approached from the water, rising, as she does, in terraces which overlook the noble Tagus, and are in turn overlooked by the Sierras, ending in the Peak of Lisbon, at its mouth. Arriving thus, one does not see the filth and squalor, the tumble-down buildings, unpaved streets, or many poor mean houses tucked in among the grander ones. Lisbon has sometimes been called "The Sultana of the West," and the comparison is apt enough, for like many a sultana her first appearance is conspicuously beautiful, but she will not bear too close inspection. Her jewels are often mere colored glass, her embroideries tawdry, and her garments not over clean.

But in the brilliant sunshine of this glowing noon Portugal's capital sat throned in majesty, and the passengers were enthusiastic in their praises.

"Come!" cried Dwight, appearing like a bombshell in their midst. "Are you ready, girls? We're going ashore together, and while the captain runs about on his affairs, uncle and mother are going to trot us around wherever we want to go. Then, by and by, we're to meet him in the Place of Commerce, and go for dinner at the Braganza. He and uncle have fixed it all up. Hip, hooray! Won't it be jolly to be on land again?"

But it proved slow work making their way in, for the river's mouth, which broadens into a noble harbor, was choked with the shipping of many lands, which had doubtless been detained by the fog of last night. As the young people leaned over the guard rail, it was great fun to watch the crowd of clumsy little native boats, laden with fruit and wine, which were hovering about the steamer, and getting in the way of everybody, while crying their wares. Many of these boatmen seemed as dark in complexion as any East Indian on board, and nearly all wore ear-rings, generally of silver, in the dingy lobes of their ears. They seemed noisy and quarrelsome, and often shrieked what seemed like terrible imprecations at each other, shaking their fists and scowling darkly, only to be laughing carelessly the next minute, as if nothing mattered. Dwight was about motioning one man to fling him up a bunch of figs, in exchange for the silver coin in his fingers, when his uncle called them to the other side of the deck, which was just as well, for it would have had to be a splendid toss and catch had he secured them.

Mr. Lawrence wanted to point out the difference between a clumsy coast lugger just putting out to sea, and a clean little clipper-built English yacht coming in. He said,

"It is a difference that you will see in almost everything here. The Portuguese do not know the meaning of the word thrift, as we understand it, and if cleanliness is not next to godliness with them, it certainly is next to royalty, for it never descends to the common people."

When, at last, they went on shore and left the wharves behind, most of the bustle died away, and they could see that Mr. Lawrence had only told the truth, in the easy way in which all business seemed to be managed.

But they found much to admire and enjoy in the odd costumes and people they were constantly meeting; more, as Hope rather contemptuously remarked, than in the buildings, which were "just like houses anywhere."

She was right enough, for this is largely true on the seaward side of Lisbon. Her quaintness, and squalor also, lie further inland, where the old quarters are to be found.

"So you don't think Lisbon has many novelties, Miss Hosmer?" laughed Mr. Lawrence, who thought there was more fun in the young people than in scenes that were not new to him. "Just wait a bit! We are coming to something now."

He led the way into a pleasant enclosure, or placa, as they call it there, saying carelessly, "Let's cross to the other side."

They started briskly enough, but in a minute Hope flung out a hand as if for support.

"Oh, I can't stand up another minute!" she cried. "It makes me seasick."

But Dwight caught her arm and laughingly urged her on, stumbling and protesting, for this is known as Rolling Motion Square, and is paved in gray-blue stone to represent billows in motion. So complete is the effect that those who are still giddy from ocean travel find it a trial to walk across it.

"Dwight," called his mother admonishingly, "you will weary the patience of these young ladies. Come and help your mother a minute, can't you?"

"Of course I can, mommy, provided Miss Hope will release me, but she is clinging awfully tight just now!"

Amid the laughter his uncle sent him forward with a push, and offered his own arm.

"Get out, you rascal! We're nearly across, Miss Hosmer, and I'm very glad of an opportunity to monopolize you for a little. I see you are not greatly impressed with Portugal; you don't like it so well as--well, Lynn, for instance?"

"Now you are laughing at me, but indeed I do not! Do you know, Mr. Lawrence, I have always wished we girls were Americans in real earnest--to live there, you understand. I love England, too, but while I was with Uncle Albert at Lynn, he used to talk to me a great deal about that grand United States and it seems to me a wonderful land. Faith was not so strong as I, and used to stay in more--you see, uncle was not really in the busy part, but well out where it was more like the country--and she did not go about with him as I did. Once he took me to Plymouth, and when he showed me that rock with the railing around it, and told me about those Pilgrim fathers braving the sea and savages, just to worship God as they thought was right, it seemed to me as if my whole soul bowed down in reverence! From that minute I was an American girl--a New England girl--and I have kept true to my father's country ever since."

"I think," said Mr. Lawrence, thoughtfully, "that there is something in the foundation of our New England which gives it an interest beyond that of almost any region known, and it certainly appeals to any nature which has an enthusiasm for the heroic and noble. Many countries have been acquired through bloodshed, by conquest and because of greed and glory, but a country whose foundations were laid in the rights of conscience only, whose progenitors took God alone for their Leader, and his rules and service for their code--who came in peace and poverty, demanding nothing but the right to live and die true men--ah! no wonder New England is proud of her forefathers."

"What Portuguese hero are you lecturing about now, uncle?" called back Dwight, saucily, but was at once suppressed by his mother. Hope answered lightly,

"We have found better heroes than those old Portuguese fighters, we think; haven't we, Mr. Lawrence?"

"Yes. Still, there is one man whom I greatly admire, of this nation, and I think we will visit his statue next. What do you know about Luiz de Camoes, or, as we write it, Camoens, Dwight?"

"Gracious! Nothing at all; never heard of him. Was he a fighter?"

"Hardly. At any rate he did his fighting in a noble way--rather like heaping coals of fire I should say. He was a writer."

"Oh, tell us about him, uncle."

"What! A lecture? But that is not admissible in polite society."

"Now, don't tease. You know we are all dying to hear about him. Proceed!"

"Dying?" put in Mrs. Vanderhoff. "How extravagantly you talk, my son."

"Well, crazy, then."

She laughed hopelessly.

"Go on, pray," she said to her brother. "He simply leaps from the frying-pan into the fire."

"De Camoens," he said, "was by no means without faults, but he was gifted, generous, forgiving, and brave. He was foolish enough to love a lady too near the throne, and on that account was banished, and endured many hardships for years. Yet he did not let this dampen his love of country, and his loyalty to the government. Though an exile, he wrote a romantic epic extolling the deeds of his countrymen in all ages, which has become a great classic, and has made both them and himself immortal. I call that a generous deed! He died poor and unnoticed, but now his people make an idol of him, and his statue is one of the sights of Lisbon."

"Did he live here?" asked Faith. "That is, when he was not in exile?"

"Yes, this was his home."

"And his poem was the Lusiad," added Mrs. Vanderhoff.

"Why, I've heard of that!" cried Dwight. "We had something about it in our Rhetoric."

"And here," said Mr. Lawrence, pointing down a street into which they had turned, "you catch your first glimpse of his statue. Poor fellow! I wonder if he knows of the tardy recognition, wherever he is now?"

They stood some time before this monument to an unfortunate genius, then started on a lively exploration of the streets and shops, which was perhaps more interesting to the ladies than to their escort. At any rate it was with something like a sigh of relief that he at length glanced at his watch, and declared it was time to meet the captain in the Place of Commerce, close by.

This is a conspicuous square in Lisbon, and they had already visited some of its arcaded shops, but without taking special note of its attractions. Now they had leisure to stroll about and admire the fine public buildings, and the exquisite flowers and foliage. Quite suddenly they came upon the captain who was, to the great astonishment of his daughters, walking leisurely about in company with Lady Moreham and Mrs. Poinsett. They all stopped to exchange greetings, and finally wandered over to the open side of the square, where is a fine view of the Tagus, with its varied shipping and busy shores. As they were turning to make their way to the hotel for dinner, Faith found herself beside the English lady, who said in a gentle voice, which seemed oddly out of place with her reserved, almost haughty, manner,

"Have you enjoyed the afternoon, my child?"

"Very much, thank you," said Faith. "There are so many queer-looking people, and it is diverting to visit all these open booths, and try to understand their jargon and make them understand ours. I feel in a dream sometimes."

"Then you have not traveled largely?"

"Very little, my lady."

"I heard you and your sister speak of being in the United States some time, did I not?"

"Oh yes, a year. Our father was born there."

"And you were in Boston?"

"Yes, many times."

"Did you ever go to any of the suburbs--Brookline, for instance?"

"I was there twice. We had friends living there. Isn't it a charming place? It made me think of some of our prettiest English towns."

"Oh, it is better--that is, I have heard it spoken of as a little paradise. Did you go about considerable?"

Faith glanced at her, surprised by several things. First, there was a wistful note in her voice which seemed singular when speaking of a town never visited; second, with all her precise use of language, once in a while this woman of the highest aristocracy made an odd slip in a grammatical way. She was a somewhat puzzling compound. Faith answered,

"A little. We rode up on Corey's Hill, of course, and around by the reservoir, and out towards Jamaica Pond--but you do not know, perhaps--"

"Go on, pray! I like to hear it." The woman's manner was almost breathless with eagerness, and Faith, wondering still more, continued. "I enjoyed as much as anything just wandering around alone, and looking at the lovely homes. I never was quite sure when I was in a real street, or in a private way, till I saw the signs up, and I used to wonder why these beautiful little lanes were labeled, 'Dangerous,' till uncle told me it was because they were private property, and the town would not be responsible for accidents that might happen there. My friend lived in a park, with several houses set down at random, and pretty drives through it, and another little girl I visited lived well up the hill, and when she wanted to come down town in winter she just tucked herself up on a little sled, and coasted all the way. I thought that must be great fun!"

Lady Moreham's eyes were all alight.

"I love to hear you tell about it!" she said. "Some other time we will talk some more. Your father is beckoning you to hurry, now, and there is my friend waiting for me impatiently. But did you ever hear of Hale's story, The Man Without a Country? Hale is an American writer."

"I have heard of him, but have not read that story," returned the girl.

"It is a sad one--a very sad one! Good-by. Thank you for a pleasant stroll. I will see you again."

She passed swiftly ahead, to join Mrs. Poinsett, and Faith turned aside to her own party, but when they joked her on making a conquest of the titled lady she only smiled dreamily, and saw an eager face, filled with almost girlish life, begging for childish particulars about a modest place in far-away New England.

It was after sunset when, their excellent dinner over, they returned on board the dear old steamer, which seemed really like home as Joey smiled a welcome, Mr. Malcolm called a greeting down from the guards, and two or three of the babies ran from their ayahs' sides, along the deck, to meet them. Even the Bengali boy grinned, as he cleared away some paper bags and fruit skins, and a little Mohammedan, who had been making a perch to which Texas could be chained when on deck, came with deep salaams to beg that they would step and see if it were satisfactory. They expressed themselves much pleased, but Faith pointed to the long chain attached, and said.

"I don't like that! It makes me think of dungeons and criminals."

"But we'd lose him without it," urged Hope.

"I suppose so. I'm glad, though, my pet is a cat, and does not need chains or cages, I'm going to tell the babies a story in the little saloon, Hope, if you want me. They like it before they have to go to bed."

An hour or so later the girls were resting idly in their own stateroom, when Faith asked, suddenly. "What do you think of my lady? Do you like her any better?"

"You mean Lady Moreham? Yes, I think I do. What was she saying to you, anyhow, in the placa?"

"Not much. Simply asking questions. I did the talking."

"I thought at first she was horrid--proud and cross, you know,"--continued Hope, who was lolling indolently on the dimity-covered seat, in a loose gown, "but I'm not so certain of it, now. There's something about her--I wonder if father ever knew her before? He seems friendly with her, don't you think?"

"Oh, he's friendly with everybody; it's his business to be. And, of course, she is an important personage. But she kept me talking about Brookline, to-day--you remember the pretty place just out from Boston don't you?--and it seemed odd she should care about it. And did you notice, yesterday, whenever we spoke of--"

"Yes, I did. You can't mention America but she wakes up. Other times she doesn't even seem to hear. Perhaps she has been there, after all."

"Possibly. I wonder what she is going out to India for?"

"Oh, to join her husband, probably. That's what all the ladies go for, isn't it?"

A tap at the door and their father's voice.

"Asleep, girlies?"

"Oh no, papa," cried Hope, throwing the door open. "We are up yet, and as wide awake as hawks."

"All right! Get into your ulsters, and come up to the pilot-house. There's a fresh breeze springing up from N.N.E. that will send us spinning on our way, when we can catch it. As soon as we get a good offing, you'll see as pretty a sight as you need ever expect to--the old 'International' under full canvas making her eighteen knots an hour for Gibraltar--lively now!"

In a moment they were beside him, hastening to the elevated turret, with its outlook in every direction, and presently the girls were enchanted to watch the lively rattling of ropes and shrouds, the rapid unfurling of the great sails, that snapped to place as if clapping giant hands in joy. When these caught the breeze and braced themselves to duty, there was a sort of thrill along the good ship, as if she had responded with one quick heart-beat. Then, fair, still, magnificent, she glided away, leaving the twinkling lights of city and harbor to fade out in distance--first those low on the water, then the street lights on the terraces, and lastly one lone gleam in a distant tower that, like a friendly eye, still gazed after them when, far out in the open, they sailed smoothly on, the fires banked, and Steam gracefully yielding place to his older brother, Wind.

Chapter VII.

Kite-Flying And Gibraltar.

When they awoke, next morning, the engines were at work again, and their heavy thud, thud, was mingled with the swash of water, as the Bengali boys washed down decks, while a rattling of spars and creaking of cordage showed that sails were being set, or lowered.

Hope, always wide awake at once, sprang from her little white couch to find that it was difficult to keep her footing on the sliding plane of her stateroom floor, but slipping into gown and ulster as quickly as possible, and bracing herself with extended hands through the narrow passageway to the deck, she was soon outside, gasping a little in the fresh wind that met her full in the face and caught her breath away. For the ship was now headed for the Straits, and steaming almost in the teeth of the brisk northeaster.

There was not a hint of land, as far as the eye could see, and the waters, of a deep, cold blue, were white-capped to the horizon's edge. She felt dizzy, and most uncertain on her feet, but not six feet distant was a heap of low camp-chairs, huddled together out of the way of the still dripping deck planks. If she could reach one and get to leeward of that capstan--but what should she hold on to meanwhile?

And, even as she asked herself the question, the goodly steamer, happening to dip her lowest courtesy to a rude in-coming wave of giant proportions, shipped its combing crest, that poured through the latticed guard-rail and swirled across the deck, with a force, that sent poor Hope a drenched, doubled-up little heap of helplessness, pounding right into the midst of the chair-stack.

Before she had time to cry out, however, she was caught up, and her father's voice, hoarse and frightened, asked quickly,

"Are you hurt, love?--Are you hurt?"

As she looked up into his anxious face, pale beneath the sun-bronze, Hope fully realized how deeply her father loved her, and answered in a much subdued voice,

"No, papa--not much. I think I've barked my knees and bumped my head, but I guess that's all--except the wetting!" shivering a little.

"Yes, you mustn't take cold. I'll help you right back, and send Martha to you. You'd better crawl into your little nest again as soon as you're thoroughly dry, and don't venture outside again until I come and get you, my storm-bird."

"Father," she said, as he was about leaving her at the cabin door, "do you _never_ sleep? I left you up at midnight, and I find you up at dawn."

"Sleep? Oh, yes, sometimes. That's the last thing a captain thinks of, though. If I should sleep too much it might mean an eternal sleep for my passengers and crew. Now hurry into bed and get warm, chicken. I'll see that you have some hot chocolate at once."

It was nearly two hours later, and Hope had quite slept off the effects of her wetting, when the two girls ventured forth again, but now the motion was still and even, and the old ship steady as a house floor, for they were under the lee of Cape Trafalgar, making swift time for Tarifa and the Straits.

As the girls sat lazily, after their morning's outlook, in the pleasant saloon, amid a group of ladies and children, listening to the cheerful chatter going on about them, and laughing at the antics of the little tots playing about in charge of their gaily-turbaned Indian ayahs, or nurses, Dwight came in, all excitement, and cried,

"Come, girls, we're going to have an exhibition. Loo Wing has made an elegant kite--regular Chinese one, you know--and we're going to fly it from the after-deck. Hurry up!"

They hastily followed his rush around the guards, and after them trailed all the children old enough to run alone, and many of the mothers, for anything new is welcome at sea. On the after-deck they found the captain, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Malcolm, and other passengers, assisting the cook's boy, Loo Wing, inputting the last touches to a singular erection of red, yellow, and purple, made of crinkled paper, which looked like a hybrid creature, half bird, half dragon.

Loo Wing had it in hand, and Mr. Lawrence was adjusting its immensely long tail, while the captain was paying out twine from a stick.

"Oh, uncle!" called Dwight in an agonized voice, "you know I was to start it. Loo Wing promised I should."

"Well, well, who said you weren't? We're only making ready. But be careful and not let it get tangled in the rigging," was quickly returned.

"No, indeed!" cried the boy, trembling with excitement, as he received from the smiling oriental the gaudy thing, and started for the taffrail eager to see it off on its aerial journey.

But he was in too great a hurry, and despite warning cries from Captain Hosmer, Loo Wing, and the Bengali boy, who was supposed to be polishing the brass rod of the taffrail, he sent the kite up just in season for a contrary puff of wind to catch its extended wings, and blow it squarely into the topmost shrouds and ratlines of the mizzen-mast, where, entangled in the network of ropes, it fluttered helplessly.

Poor Dwight was almost beyond speaking in his despair, when the little Bengali, with a swift, beseeching look at his captain, sprang forward and ran up the rope-ladder with the lithe, quick motion of a monkey.

"Oh, don't let him!" cried Faith, but her father only laughed.

"He's used to it, don't worry!" he said, and thus assured, they watched the brown lad's dizzy climb until the kite was reached. Here, hanging on by his toes, apparently, to the cross-bar, he bent over and loosened the erratic flyer. Then, holding it far out, he looked down for further orders.

"Shall he let her go, Master Dwight?" said the captain. "It's your kite to command. Here's the twine, and hang tight, if he does, for 'twill give you a strong pull."

"Yes, let her fly!" cried Dwight, excitedly, bracing himself and gazing upwards.

The little Indian waited for a favorable instant, then with a prolonged "Hi-yi!" that drew the attention of all on board, gave it a light toss to leeward, which sent it off like a bird, indeed. Luckily, it had not been torn by its temporary delay, and now, caught aft by the wind, it sailed up and away with a force that fairly dragged Dwight across the deck until, laughing heartily, the captain eased him by a grasp on the twine, until he could "get another cinch," as the lad explained, and pay it out more rapidly.

It really made a beautiful appearance against the blue sky, with its gay colors and extended wings, and Loo Wing clapped his hands in delight, while the passengers cheered lustily. They watched it till it was a mere speck in the canopy, and Dwight greatly amused the little ones by sending up "letters," or bits of white paper, on the twine. But after an hour or two of this fun, the captain sang out,

"Better tie your bird to the taffrail and take a look for'ards pretty soon. 'Twill pay for the trouble."

They acted upon his advice, making a rush for the forward deck, and saw that it was well worth a longer journey than from end to end of a great steamer.

They were nearing the Straits; already Tarifa's white fortress was smiling in friendly fashion across the narrowing waters, while, on the other hand, the hazy spurs of Atlas outlined the African coast. And as they gazed delightedly, with much laughter over the roughening waves, which made it necessary for them to wedge themselves into convenient nooks in order to stand upright, they saw great Gibraltar looming up somber, massive, and gray-blue, with the frown of a giant defying the universe.

No wonder the ancients thought these opposite heights, so impregnable, so sentinel-like, were gates set by the gods to define earth's outer boundaries, beyond which the most daring mariner must never sail.

As our friends watched the broad slope of Calpe, lying in the full sunshine of a brilliant noon, its ledges bristling with bastions and cannon, above the little town which seems to nestle beneath in contented safety, Faith turned to her sister with kindling eyes.

"Now, aren't you proud of our mother, England? Where in all the world is there such another fortress commanding the entrance to two oceans, and looking down upon two continents, I'd like to know?"

Hope looked up in amazement.

"Well, Faith, I never heard you soar into such eloquence, before. You have subjugated me! What shall I do? Sing 'God save the Queen,' or shout 'For England and St. George'? I'm at your service. But then," she added mischievously, "I don't think it was such a wonderful thing for its garrison to hold out over three years, as our history tells us they did, for what could all the warships France and Spain might bring, ever accomplish against that solid rock?"

"Ah! but it was a gallant resistance, just the same!" cried Mr. Lawrence, as he joined them. "There has, perhaps, never been such a fierce and prolonged bombardment as that, and Europe looked on with wonder, as every resource of two great nations was brought to bear against that garrison of seven thousand men, who could not be starved, nor conquered. It looked black for them, sometimes, but British endurance and red-hot shot won the day, and the carnage on board those ill-fated vessels during the last of the fierce engagement was beyond anything recorded in history. They simply _had_ to give it up!"

As they now slowly steamed up the beautiful bay it was almost like sailing over a mill-pond, after the past roughness, for it lay still beneath the vertical sun, and was thronged with shipping of every description and nationality. Presently there came a reverberation that seemed to ricochet from rock and wave, and a little girl cried blankly,

"Oh dear! Are they firing at us?"

But an officer called out,

"No, it's a Russian corvette, saluting. See its dragon flag of black and yellow? Now--watch!"

He pointed shorewards just as a puff of white smoke issued from an innocent-looking clump of trees on the rocky hillside, which preceded the sound of an answering boom from the iron lips of the fortress. This was repeated many times, the hoarse cannon barks alternating between gun-ship and shore, in an awe-inspiring exchange of courtesies. As the girls grew used to the thunderous sounds they delighted to speculate from which bastion, or ledge, or flowering bush, would come that little puff of smoke, to be followed by the lightning and thunder of man's invention, scarcely less terrible than those of nature's cloud contests.

"I'm glad to have seen it," said Faith somewhat tremulously, when the salvo was over. "It gives one some idea of what it might be if that fortress were really firing for business. Just think how dreadful!"

"But do tell me," cried her sister, "how can trees and shrubs grow so luxuriantly on that rocky soil, and what keeps the houses from blowing off some of those steep cliffs? Do you know, I never supposed there were any houses, before. I thought, from the pictures, that the rock went straight up out of the water, with the fort stuck on top, like a thimble on a big chocolate caramel. But here's a regular town."

Mr. Lawrence laughed.

"It's odd, the ideas we get of places till we see them! To be sure, the rock is nearly perpendicular to the north and east, but here, as you see, it makes a long slope to the water's edge, and the cliff is broken into many elevations. Of course, you'll go ashore and take a closer look at it all?"

"Yes, father's going with us. We'll be here quite a while to take on coal, and he wants us to see the galleries, and the signal-station."

"And I want to see the tailless monkeys," added Dwight, as he joined them. "We'll have a procession to brag of, for nearly everybody's going ashore. Mr. Malcolm's to lead the van with the children, he says, and Mrs. Campbell is to close up the rear of his section, while mother follows with ours. They've been laughing about it over there. Ah, there's Bess beckoning! Be sure and join us, girls."

"Yes, when father comes. Goody! here he is. We're all ready, papa."

"So am I, but you'll have to wait till I've attended to my papers--but it won't take long. Just follow on."

The passengers were soon streaming shorewards over the long pier, and sniffing with delight the fresh odor of flowers that filled the air, which, to Hope, was a continual wonder, for she could not yet accept the fact of lovely English gardens on this gray old rock.

A walk through the paved streets, with their home-like dwellings, stores, churches, and official buildings only increased this wonder, and her stock of adjectives was soon exhausted. Mr. Malcolm, naturally, led them first to the market, where business called him, and here the girls were specially interested in the flowers, some of the booths being fancifully arranged with a bewildering display.

The people they met seemed of every complexion and country, from groups of tourists in the latest fashion to a couple of long-robed Parsees, with their funny little caps perched above their black polls. Bess indicated another passer-by, and said in a low tone, "What an old maid of a man!" and certainly, with his straight gown, and a high comb stuck up in his back hair which was coiled into a tight knot, the dark-skinned fellow did strongly suggest a typical spinster.

Even Hope looked pleased, and Faith's eyes glittered as a small company of British soldiery, from the barracks, in red coats and white helmets, and with fresh young faces, came clattering down the street, and returned the greetings of the gentlemen, and smiles of the ladies, with their military salute, and a second glance in the direction of their pretty young countrywomen.

Some of the party, who were not good climbers, had been accommodated with donkeys at the hotel, before starting for the galleries, but many walked, and it was a long and somewhat straggling procession.

The galleries mentioned are long passageways, cut through the solid rock, and pierced with portholes at regular intervals, so that the gun-muzzles, which peer through them, can command town, bay, and neutral ground. Faith, whose reverence for this old citadel grew every minute, felt that the clatter of the donkey's heels, the gay calling back and forth, and the cries of the children ought, in these dim tunnels, to be hushed into awed silence. But no one else seemed so impressed, though the men made measurements and discussed the labor and expense of such enginery, as if it were a great achievement.

As they emerged she found herself close by Lady Moreham, also walking, who remarked carelessly,

"You look solemn, Miss Hosmer."

"Do I? I think all this strength and power are wonderful, don't you, my lady?"

"Yes, and awful! It oppresses me. When England lays her hand on anything it is a heavy hand. The victim must yield, or die."

"And yet, surely our people are comfortable and wisely ruled? We are a happy nation."

"Perhaps--of course. I was speaking of her in the abstract, merely. But is it not true that the marked characteristic of all Englishmen is tyranny? Don't they rule wherever they go? Aren't they always and everywhere the dominant class--the oppressors? Watch the British tourist in any far country. Does he ever conform to its customs in the least? No, he forces them to come to his ways. You will see this in every port we enter, every hotel we visit. English ideas govern everything."

"But why shouldn't they?" asked Faith, feeling as if rather beyond her depth, but bound to be loyal to her country. "If they have conquered these people, haven't they the right to make laws for them?"

"Oh, laws! Yes. But not to strip them of all originality, all independent thought and manner. They need not change their tastes, their habits, their traditions--but there! what does a girl like you know, or care, about all this, to be sure? Your wings have never felt the cold shears of British superiority, nor your heart been wounded by the sneers and scorn of her aristocracy."

She smiled bitterly, and Faith was puzzled to know what she could mean when she, herself, was a distinguished member of the class she seemed to take issue with.

They were separated then, and Faith borne on by the younger ones, but as she looked out over the bay, with its forest of shipping, and down at the terraced streets just below, she thought it a strange thing that so favored a woman should rail at her own country and kinsmen. It oppressed her loyal little heart, for she had begun to like the titled lady, and hated to find so grave a flaw in her nature.

The signal house, perched like an eagle's nest on its rocky spur, proved intensely interesting, though it was difficult to remember what all the instruments were for, while the signal flags and their many combinations were a complete mystery. Perhaps they enjoyed all the more the visit to the tailless monkeys, that Dwight insisted upon later, where they did not expect to be learned, but only to look and laugh to their young hearts' content.

Dwight was anxious to own one, but his uncle resisted his entreaties, declaring that monkeys--with, or without tails--would be a drug in the market long before they returned to New York.

It was late afternoon when they steamed out of the New Mole, and as they looked back upon the precipitous eastern face of Gibraltar, and watched the signal station, which now seemed sitting on a mere knife-edge of rock, and the roads winding up like paths for birds to light on, it did not seem as if they could have found them so roomy when on the spot. In dreamy mood Faith watched the surf, ceaselessly beating itself against that massive wall, only to fall back bruised and broken. It saddened her, and she was not surprised, after the first shock of it, to see that Lady Moreham, standing near by, was gazing also, with tear-filled eyes.

As Faith discovered her emotion, the lady, believing herself unobserved, turned with a gesture that was eloquent of despair, and Faith heard her murmuring, "It is like my life--oh! pitiless, pitiless."

Half frightened, the girl slipped behind an intervening barrier, and stole away.

"Poor lady!" she thought, almost in tears herself. "I would not have her know I heard for anything. What can make her so unhappy? She seems to have no friends, no country. I do not believe it is pride, either, nor any feeling of rank and exclusiveness that keeps her so shut in, else why should she be so pleasant to me? It is some great misery, I'm sure. God help, and pity her!"

Chapter VIII.

Nightmare And Gossip.

I think it must have been half nightmare, or perhaps too much frozen pudding at dinner, after the long warm tramp up Gibraltar's steep sides; at any rate it all happened just as I tell you. Hope retired somewhat earlier than the rest, leaving Faith in the saloon, where the passengers were enjoying an impromptu concert given by a Romany man and his two daughters, who had come on board at Gibraltar to exhibit their skill with mandolin, tambourine, voice, and guitar.

It grew a bit monotonous and shrill, after the novelty wore off, and as Hope had become interested in a book some one had lent her, which told about the old pirates of Algiers and their traffic in Christian slaves, she stole away to her stateroom, slipped into a loose gown, and turning on the electric light at her bedhead, settled down for an enjoyable evening.

It proved to be a blood-curdling narrative, filled with the accounts of helpless crews butchered by pirates and their passengers, men, women, and children carried off in chains, to be sold as slaves in the wicked old Algerian city. Yet, though so thrilling, she was very tired, and in time it was difficult to keep her place and realize just what it was all about. Half mechanically, at last, she turned off the light and lay back on her pillow where, in less time than it takes to tell it, she was sound asleep. Still, however, the pirates of her book mingled with her dreams, which were so horrible she struggled into wakefulness--to find herself drenched with perspiration while shivering with horror. Anxious for companionship to counteract the effect of these evil visions, she reached out an arm to the other little bed and whispered, "Faith!"

With a shock she discovered that the bed was smooth and empty; it had not been occupied. At the same instant she became aware of whispering voices just without the porthole above her bed, and a sentence or two proved they were not English-speaking voices, either, but those of orientals, of whom, as you know, there were many on shipboard. At first she could not understand a word, they spoke so low and rapidly, but presently she heard with clearness the sentence,

"But ee mus' be kill eef she do care! It can no be help, now."

Then more whispers, and then again, distinctly, one urging the other to attend to the matter at once, the quicker the better, "foh eet gotta be," and a word or two about the "Capitan Sahib," which she could not catch.

But, in her abnormal, excited state, she had heard enough. Trembling from the tragedies of sleep, she thought she had fallen into the greater ones of reality. These men were going to kill somebody--and "she" was to feel dreadfully about it. It must be that the "Capitan Sahib" was to fall a victim to their mutinous designs!

Almost paralyzed with horror she lay still an instant, incapable of movement, then there was a rushing back of suspended animation as she felt that Faith might already have suffered, that her father's life was now in danger and there was not an instant to lose. Upon her prompt action might depend his life, and the safety of all on board.

Casting off her own terror with the resolve of desperation, she sprang up and sped into the cabin. It was dark and empty. She passed through it into the little stateroom, and with a whispered, "Papa! Papa!" felt along the bunk. It too was empty and untumbled.

Oh, was she too late?

Still under the mental influence that made her believe hours must have passed during her dreamings, she felt it must be nearing morning now--that it was the depth of the night, in those darkest watches when all evil deeds are done, and she was stiff and cold with terror. She slipped out upon the deck, lying still and shadowy under its awnings, sped across it like a shadow herself, and so on and up to the bridge.

Her father, calmly talking with one of his officers, saw the swift, silent rush, and the next instant heard an agonized, "O father! father!" as the poor child threw herself into his arms, Then, clinging tightly, she broke out again before he could speak.

"Oh, save sister! Be quick and save her!"

"Save her? What--where--what ails you, child? What has happened?"

"And save yourself! Get the men together--the white men--"

"My child, are you asleep? What is the matter--where have you been? Why, you are shaking like a leaf!"

He drew her to one side, and the officer discreetly vanished. Hope begged again, "Save her, oh, save Faith!"

"Faith? Aren't you Faith? I thought you were. Is this my dauntless Hope, then? Why, how strange! Tell me everything."

"It's those awful Lascars, papa. I've always been afraid of them, they look so big and black. They're planning to kill somebody--to kill you--and Faith is gone already."

"Gone? What nonsense is this? She's in the cabin, likely. You must have a nightmare, Hope!"

"But isn't it most morning, papa?"

"Not anywhere near it--nor midnight either. Faith is somewhere about, and as for killing--absurd! This isn't one bit like you, child. Haven't you been dreaming?"

She told him then of her horrible awakening, and repeated the talk she had heard below the porthole.

"Humph!" he said. "You're mistaken in their designs, but they certainly had no business in that part of the ship. I must see about that. Come; I'll take you in and hunt up sister." This was said in a rather loud voice, made stern by his surprise and annoyance. In a moment it softened. "There, there, don't tremble so, my child; it's all right, and everybody is safe enough."

He led her into the cabin, quickly flooded it with electric light, and, summoning a boy, sent him for Mrs. Jordan, who soon appeared. Briefly mentioning that his daughter had a slight chill and he would leave her to look after the child, he started off. Hope was scarcely tucked up again when her sister came in, looking rather conscious, and blushing a little.

"Are you ill, dear?" she cried. "Papa said you had a nightmare and a chill. He is quite upset, and a little cross."

"Oh, where have you been?" returned Hope reproachfully. "I was so frightened when I found you gone."

"Gone? Why, I haven't been in, yet. You went to bed so early, Hope! It's only about half-past ten. I've been walking the deck--it's a lovely night, as soft and warm as can be."

"With Dwight?" asked Hope languidly, for in Martha Jordan's practised hands she was growing warm and drowsy again.

"N-no, not Dwight," answered Faith hesitantly. "I'll tell you about it soon. Here comes papa."

She opened the door into his cabin, and gave a cry of horrified surprise. "Oh, oh! how did it happen?"

"What?" shrieked Hope, all nerves again.

"There! Be quiet now," said her father, and entered quickly, carrying a limp little bundle of fawn and white.

"Hafiz! It's Hafiz! What has happened? Is he dead?"

"I'm afraid he is. Your Lascars turned out to be our Mohammedans, Huri and his brother, two as faithful creatures as I have on board. It seems Hafiz, for some reason, found himself weary of first-cabin passage, so made his way into the fo'castle, where a dog belonging to one of the men took after him, and hurt him badly. Huri found him and saw he must be finished, but hated to do it, and, with his brother, was discussing the matter while looking for you girls. Faith, where have you been this last hour or so?"

The girl's eyes were flooded with tears for her lost pet, and involuntarily his face softened as he turned to her. She flushed a little, but answered at once, "On the upper deck, sir."

"Ah! that was you then? I saw the couple promenading there. Well, well, you'd better keep with your sister after this, and look after your own passengers," with a glance at the dead cat, "instead of mine, eh? Now, now, Hope, don't cry so!" for, quite worn out by all this excitement, the girl was sobbing in a somewhat hysterical manner.

"Yes, that's enough!" cried Martha in her hearty way. "No use crying over spilled milk, nor dead pets--even when they're Persian cats. You'll find there are one or two more in the world, I guess. Now just cuddle down there and keep still, or we'll have to give you a dose of something to quiet you, and it's bitter stuff to take, I can tell you. Perhaps, if you'll just curl in beside her, Miss Faith, she'll ease down sooner."

The stewardess was right, for when Hope felt her twin's tender arms about her she soon grew quiet, and as soon as they were alone whispered with much interest, "But who was with you on deck, Faith?"

"Well I'll tell you, and it's nothing to make such a fuss over, either. Do you remember that young officer we saw bidding his mother and sister good-by at Portsmouth--the ones that were so quiet about it?"

"Oh, yes; and his sweetheart too."

"No, that was his cousin, who lives with them. I got acquainted with him to-night, and he is a real gentleman. We were walking up and down, and he was telling me about his people, and his service in India. He is to be a sort of traveling officer to take out recruits, you see. He's delighted with the appointment, but his father was lost in a monsoon on the Indian Ocean, a few years ago, and it nearly killed his mother to let him go--she is sort of superstitious about it. Don't you remember how she fainted?"

"Yes, indeed. Poor lady! And he is nice, is he?"

"Yes and intelligent, but bashful. He said he had often watched us, and can never tell us apart, but he thinks he'll be able to, after this."

"Oh, he does?" giggled Hope. "I'll wager I could fool him any day, if I tried. Well, you gave me a nice fright while you were having such a good time," and thereupon she told her tale as you have just heard it, and so short a step is it from tragedy to comedy, especially in youth, that they both laughed over it until they fell asleep.

Meanwhile, on deck, a watchful father saw a young man standing near the gunwale in idle contemplation of the horizon, and accosted him with a pleasant word to which the other responded with readiness, though his manner was somewhat diffident. The two talked some time, the older man becoming more and more interested in a youth who, with a real manliness of character, was yet as bashful as a schoolboy. Before the conversation ended Captain Hosmer was convinced there was not only "no harm in the fellow," but that he was a young man worth cultivating, and, as he finally left him, chuckled to himself.

"Ah! these girls. They require an awful sight of looking after, but sometimes their instincts are as good as our judgments. Faith is a little woman with her mother's own purity. How she used to worry for fear I should grow hard and wicked in my rough life. Ah! my Helen, wherever you are, to-night, know that I am trying to keep myself steering straight for the Port that you have reached--and, God helping me, I will bring the babies safe along, too!"

He bowed his head on his hands a minute, and the old steersman, watching him, thought, with affectionate sympathy.

"The capt'n's tired to-night, and no wonder. Wish he'd turn in and get a good rest for once, Never saw a man so faithful, bless him! Glad he's got them nice little girls to make him brace up these days--sometimes I think as he's getting old too fast."

The next morning the twins were late in rising only to find it a summer's day, apparently, so balmy indeed that the deck seemed to be blossoming out into a flower-bed, as group after group of ladies appeared in gay lawns and organdies, while all the Mohammedan helpers were busy stretching double awnings where there had been single ones, or none at all, and rigging up the punkahs in the saloons. These odd fans, which England has borrowed, name and all, from her East Indian colonies, were, on the "International," tricolored (red, white, and blue) strips of cloth, stretched over light wire frames of a rectangular shape, which were attached to the ceiling and also, by means of a long rope, to a black-eyed Bengali boy who sat just outside the door, on deck, and kept them waving by a slow, constant jerk and pull, which was so regular that Faith declared the boy slept half the time, and possibly she was right. The ocean lay peacefully about them, its color almost an indigo, so deeply blue was it in the shadow of the vessel, but out a little way silvered by the vertical sun, which shone with a blinding splendor that made colored eye-glasses a relief to the dazzled vision.

It is in such weather that mischief breeds on shipboard, and gossip is rife. The idle passengers, by this time mostly on speaking terms, begin to let the common metal of their real make-up show through the nickel-plating of the first interchange of courtesies.

There was a group whom our special friends had not yet mingled with quite freely, though always meeting them in pleasant fashion, but as everybody clustered sociably on the forward deck, this morning, anxious to catch the ship's own breeze, if no other, they might naturally become better acquainted. Of these only a few affect our little history, therefore need description; first, a mother and two daughters going out to the husband and father in India. Mrs. Windemere was a little woman with an habitually scared expression and retiring manner, but her daughters, both well towards thirty, must have taken after the father, for they were domineering with her and self-assertive everywhere. They claimed relationship with some person who bore a title, and were given to talking a good deal about their aristocratic relatives, and they dressed conspicuously, demanded constant attention from any gentlemen present, and were full of news and rumors.

With them was a young woman of like age, whom they familiarly called Zaidee, who had spent much time in India, and had caught its languor, possibly. She was more agreeable in manner and pretended indifference to all that the "girls," as she called them, were interested in; dressed quietly, but in excellent taste, and talked in her dreamy, drawling voice in a way that seemed to interest all who listened, especially the gentlemen, who were usually grouped around her chair whenever she appeared on deck. There were plenty of these, from Indian officials of rank to subalterns and young gentlemen of fortune, either with or without tutors, but who seemed much more interested in flirtations than scenery.

English girls do not, as a rule, assume the airs of womanhood so early as do many American maidens--to their credit be it said--and neither Hope nor Faith had ever thought of considering themselves young ladies. Though nearing eighteen their gowns were still of ankle length and their hair in simple braids, while, as we have seen, they enjoyed frolicking with Dwight as if not a day older. Elizabeth Vanderhoff, too, though two years older, was still a girl at heart, and had not yet discovered that no company was complete without its young men.

The officer who had been walking with Faith, last night, was also a boyish fellow, fair and fresh of face and had been more attracted to our girls and their frolics than to the older young ladies, with more social airs and graces. Though Faith had felt somewhat confused, last night, at her father's raillery, her meeting and talk with the modest young fellow was innocent enough, in intention, had there been no one to misconstrue it, but in a carping world we must learn to avoid even the appearance of evil.

It happened that the little disturbance caused by Hope's bad dreams had not been quite unnoted, and was to bring rather disagreeable consequences, as we shall see. But, this morning, there was no hint of trouble in the air and, gathered under the deck awnings, the passengers presented a scene pretty and peaceful enough.

Faith, industriously inclined, was at work on a piece of embroidery, Hope had the piratical book in her hand, but was leaning idly back, watching Mrs. Vanderhoff, who was playing with one of the little tots, and visiting in desultory fashion with Bess, who was trying a new stitch in crochet and interposed a count, or two, between syllables. The Windemere family, all with their work, except Mrs. Campbell, who never seemed to have anything to do, were at a little distance--the two young ladies talking to the distinguished traveler previously mentioned, who seemed a trifle bored, and Mrs. Campbell being talked to by a couple of government attaches, whose boyish laughter rang out frequently.

Presently, the officer of Faith's acquaintance, whose name was Carnegie, came towards the former group and bashfully bade her a good-morning which she brightly returned, hastening to present him to her sister and friends. Soon they were all in animated chat, and the young attaches in Mrs. Campbell's vicinity began to look that way with somewhat longing glances.

At length one of them, with some light excuse, sauntered away from her side, made a slow tour of the deck, and finally drew near our three girls; saying in passing.

"I've been looking for you, Carnegie."

The other, not having noticed the by-play, turned with a smile, and replied,

"Have you? I've been down among my men most of the morning. One of the poor fellows is ill. Not seasick, you understand, but a fever, I'm afraid." Then as the schemer came to a stop he said bashfully, "May I present Mr. Donelson, ladies?" and introductions followed.

Naturally Mr. Donelson was pleased at his success, and flung a laughing glance of triumph back at his comrade, who still sat at the lady's feet, though he, too, was beginning to fidget and look about for a way of escape. Mrs. Campbell had seen all with eyes that seemed to notice nothing, and was indignant enough, for she was inordinately vain, and desired attention even from boys, if no other was forthcoming. To have any one preferred before her was gall to her foolish pride. Besides the traveler, whom she was inclined to make a hero of, had seen, too, and though pretending still to talk to the Misses Laura and Janet Windemere, his eyes were twinkling with appreciation.

Mrs. Campbell was not a malicious woman, unless thwarted in her own plans; then she could be absolutely pitiless, and cared for neither truth nor justice in carrying out her spiteful revenges. Ridicule was something she could not endure, and to feel herself slighted made a fury of her. Yet her outward self-control was perfect. Now, with a dreamy look in her large blue-gray orbs, she gazed out to seaward, and remarked as if in a ruminant mood,

"I think, take them all together, we have a rather stupid set of passengers, this trip, don't you, Mr. Allyne?"

"I don't know," returned the attache, "are they? Fact is, I haven't made much headway with the ladies yet, but the men are jolly enough in the smoking-room--without being too jolly, you understand."

"Oh, of course; they are mostly gentlemen, I presume. Indeed I've scarcely noticed them, myself"--"Ah! Mrs. Campbell!"--"with a few exceptions of course," giving him an effective glance. "But the girls are not much to boast of. That Miss Vanderhoff is positively homely."

"Do you think so? I know she has no special beauty to attract one, but she looks bright and good-tempered, I'm sure, and I like her voice, don't you?"

"Not too well. Those American voices are not to my taste. They threaten my ear-drums."

"Do you call hers sharp, though, Mrs. Campbell? It's clear, I know, and decided, but----"

She waved the subject aside, as if it were not worth discussing longer, and asked,

"What do you think of the twinnies?"

Her tone, though laughingly contemptuous, was gentleness itself, and young Allyne looked up, rather puzzled.

"Why, they seem nice, sweet girls; don't you think so?"

"One can't always tell by looks," was the ambiguous reply, and then she began to laugh, as if in great amusement over some recollection.

Meanwhile the Windemere girls and the traveler had turned and were listening, as Mrs. Campbell meant they should.

"What pleases you, Zaidee?" asked Laura, the older, settling her eyeglasses anew, the better to gaze at her friend.

"Oh, an amusing incident that occurred last night. I happened to see a part, and easily drew the rest out of Mr. Frazer by adroit questioning, for, I assure you, it made me curious."

Mr. Frazer was the purser, and the one who had stood talking with Captain Hosmer when Hope ran out to him, the night before.

"What is it?" asked both girls in a breath, and the traveler added, with a laugh,

"Yes, indeed, if any one knows anything funny on shipboard it is a bounden duty to tell it."

"Well, I hardly know whether you could call this funny, or tragic--perhaps serio-comic is the word," returned Mrs. Campbell in her smooth little drawl, with its expression of amused indifference, which always stimulated the interest of the listener. "It was exciting, anyhow. Somewhere well along towards midnight, last evening, a certain young lady--a mere girl indeed--was promenading the deck with a strange young man, when her sister, probably knowing the girl's propensities, rose from her bed, rushed out to her father, who was at his post,"--she cast an eye upward towards the bridge--"and begged of him to 'save sister,' upon which, rather sternly, he marched her back to her cabin and, hunting up the other one, took her from her escort and led her inside also, where I imagine there was a scene. At any rate the stewardess was busy in there for some time, and when I asked what had happened, she said, 'Only hysterics, ma'am; they're common enough.' But as I happened to know where she was, and what had just happened, I did not treat the matter so lightly. Of course it was an exaggeration of the other girl, but it showed that some people who seem very innocent will bear looking after. Too bad that pretty girls must spoil everything by being vain and--well, careless! But the two I mention are very unconventional."

The Windemeres, mother and daughters, listened with groans of horror, the attache with a troubled look, and the traveler with a gravity that was almost stern. Quite unnoted by the absorbed group, another also heard, for Lady Moreham, seemingly absorbed in a book and hidden by some projection of the deck, had dropped the volume and was scowling savagely. She was not taken with these young women, for at first they had distinctly snubbed her, and later, having learned her title, had so suddenly changed to fawning and flattery that she was thoroughly disgusted.

After an instant the traveler spoke abruptly,

"Do you say you heard and saw this _yourself_, Mrs. Campbell?"

"A part of it--yes, sir." How small a part she did not mention. "The rest was made comprehensible by Mr. Frazer's explanation."

"I cannot believe that one of the ship's officers would speak ill of the captain's daughters, madam--and that you refer to them we all understand."

"Speak ill? Oh, he did not--and who has, indeed? Ill? What can you mean? I merely mentioned it as a funny, melodramatic sort of performance, just like a foolish little girl. Of course there was nothing really out of the way, only a bit of imprudence--and without a mother, or chaperone, what can one expect?"

"You speak of what I was about to mention; they have no mother. That is enough to make any older woman feel it her motherly duty to guard and counsel them, I'm sure," was the calm reply. "We all must agree on that."

"Yes, indeed!" ventured Mrs. Windemere in her small voice. "Poor young things."

"I don't think they seem to need your pity, mother!" cried Janet sharply, looking across at the merry group, in which were the Hosmer sisters. "Not in that way, at any rate."

"And," added Mrs. Campbell with an exaggerated drawl, "we who are not of an age to look upon them in a motherly light may not appreciate all those feelings. They amuse me, to be sure, but I had scarcely thought of adopting them."

"Nor their father, either?" put in the attache clumsily, hoping to raise a laugh and dispel the thunder in the air. But he only drew the lightning upon himself. She gave him one look that silenced him, and, lifting the fan in her lap, said languidly,

"How very warm it is! Strange how little the most of us understand the necessity of fitting our conversation to the weather, if we would be agreeable. Discussions and personalities, if ever allowable, are only suited to a zero temperature. Have you noticed the flying-fish, this morning? How delightful it must be to plunge into that cool water to-day! I wonder if they fly out into the heat just for the fun of cooling off afterwards?"

"Quite a suggestion, Mrs. Campbell!" laughed the traveler. "I believe I'll try it," and, bowing lightly, with a flash of the eyes that met her own in quick defiance, he turned away.

As he passed around the bulkhead screening Lady Moreham, she rose and said in a low voice,

"I want to thank you! Many a life has been ruined by base insinuations. A vain woman's tongue is a merciless weapon. I like the little sisters, and believe them pure-hearted children. It was wicked!"

He bowed.

"I agree with you, my lady. But you see they are monopolizing the attention to-day, which is a social crime!" and, with a sarcastic smile, he passed on.

Meanwhile, undreaming of this "capful of wind" that might become a tornado, our girls thoroughly enjoyed themselves in a lively, wholly unsentimental way, pleased with the company and their own happy youth; and not suspecting that in this same soft, silky atmosphere which breeds both the exquisite Paradise-bird and the deadly cobra, might be found, not only friendliness, but also that "envy, malice, and uncharitableness" which the honest-hearted are least able to guard against, in their utter lack of comprehension.

Chapter IX.

A Game Of Gromets.

"Who wants to pitch gromets?" cried Dwight. (He pronounced it as if spelled "gruments," as most sea-going men do spell it, we believe, but let us follow the dictionary!) "Mr. Malcolm's offered a prize for the one that lands it square in the bucket the most times, and Uncle Dwight says he'll give a consolation prize to the poor wretch who doesn't hit it once."

"What's gromets?" asked young Donelson, springing up.

"Oh, don't you know?" said Hope. "Father used to play it with us when we were little--you know what the gromets themselves are, don't you?"

"Haven't an idea?"

"Why, rope rings--Dwight, Dwight! Isn't that one sticking out of your pocket? See how firm and neat it is!"

"Well, it's just pitching those into a bucket, set a long way off. If you can make it go into the bucket plump, it counts you 10; lodging anywhere on the edge or bail is 2, and inside the chalk ring drawn around the bucket is 1--at least, that's our game."

"And outside?"

"Of the ring? Oh, nothing at all; and five throws outside will put out till next innings. Each side has a certain number of trials, you see."

"Why, that's something like quoits."

"Well, so it is--sea quoits."

"That's easy, I'm sure."

"Oh is it? Wait till you try it!"

"You, see there's a special twist"--began Faith, but her sister stopped her.

"No, no, don't tell. Let him try it first; it's easy, you know!" and, laughing mischievously, she ran after Dwight.

Pretty soon two tawny boys appeared, one with an ordinary fire-bucket, such as are seen hung everywhere on shipboard, and the other with a cluster of rope rings hung on one arm. Behind them came Hope, with Mr. Malcolm and Dwight in tow, the former carrying a small blackboard; all in great good-humor over something.

"I am requested to announce," called out the steward in a high "lecture-hall voice," as Dwight named it, "that all those present who wish to pitch gromets are invited to join the game. Each side will select a captain; Huri and Tegeloo, here, will pick up the rings that go astray; I will chalk up the tally on this blackboard, and after the game is over the persons showing the biggest and smallest scores shall be given prizes by the captains of the winning and losing teams. Speak up for your captains, please!"

"Why not have the twin sisters?" called out Mr. Lawrence, and at the same instant a voice proposed, "Mrs. Campbell for one!"

But this suggestion was drowned in a shout of applause.

"Yes, yes, let it be the twins--the captain's daughters!" and so it was decided.

Blushing and beautiful, the girls stood up opposite each other, and began calling up their teams.

"Mrs. Vanderhoff," cried Hope.

"Lady Moreham," said Faith.

"Mrs. Poinsett."

"Mrs. Windemere."

"Miss Vanderhoff.

"Miss Windemere."

"Oh but see--see here!" laughingly protested Mr. Lawrence. "Is this fair play to us men? I want to join this game somehow, if--"

"Mr. Lawrence!" shouted Hope archly, showing her pretty teeth and dimples.

"Mr. Traveler!" quickly added Faith, only of course she gave the man's own distinguished name.

And so they proceeded, while, quite without intention but with no less offense, Mrs. Campbell and the young attache were not called until the very last.

He sprang up eagerly enough, but she barely glanced around.

"Thanks," she drawled, "but it is too warm to play; don't you think so, Mr. Allyne?"

Now, the young fellow did not think so, by any means, but he felt it would be rude to leave the lady alone, and besides he would make an odd one on Faith's side. So he sank back into his chair again with a reluctant, "Much obliged, but I'll look on a while," and the game proceeded without them.

It was rather warm work, but luckily a breeze had arisen which somewhat cooled their flushed cheeks. Presently the captain strolled along and stood near, to watch the players, laughing silently as he noted the awkward work they made of it.

"Why don't you join us, Captain?" cried Mrs. Vanderhoff. "Come, Hope, call up your father," but Faith returned quickly,

"No, indeed! Papa can bucket it every time. It wouldn't be fair to our side at all."

"No, Captain," called Mr. Lawrence, who could not get the twist of the wrist that makes the square toss, and was in convulsions over his own awkwardness, "don't you come and show us up to ignominy by contrast. Your daughters are proficient enough to prove what their teacher may be, and I hate to be so outdone."

"I'm catching on, though, uncle Dwight--don't you see?" cried his nephew, and amid a shout of laughter Mr. Malcolm released the boy's gromet from the bucket-bail, remarking, "Catching on's the word, sir!" as he marked up a large 2 opposite the lad's name.

It was funny to watch the different ones, and Huri's eyes danced with enjoyment as he ran after the wilder tosses with swift feet. Timid Mrs. Windemere would advance to position, look all about in dazed fashion, gather her skirts closely as if about to breast a hurricane, then with a long breath would shut her eyes tightly, and surge forward--when the gromet would either drop ignobly at her feet, or go madly flying off to right or left, perhaps hitting poor little Tegeloo on the nose. Mr. Donelson assumed an airy indifference and a careless toss, and lo! the contrary thing went whirling between his feet, aft. Lady Moreham actually burst into laughter as, after careful aim in a judicial manner Mrs. Poinsett set hers spinning--and knocked Captain Hosmer's cap off, while all were convulsed as she, herself, after slow and accurate aiming, sent the ring square against poor Texas, chained to his perch, knocking him down and causing his hoarse and naughty comment, "You old fool!" in quick return.

So it went merrily on, the girls, Dwight, and the traveler making several half-scores, and the rest occasionally tallying. Mrs. Windemere had never succeeded in getting even the direction, when, after several throws, she took her position once more, protesting it was of no use, she did her side more harm than good.

"And remember, if you fail this time you'll be put out!" shouted Laura, somewhat cruelly.

The little lady looked distressed, but Faith leaned over and whispered quickly,

"Did you ever make tatting, Mrs. Windemere?"

"Why, yes, of course I have," surprisedly, wondering what tatting could have to do with the present game.

"Make believe you're throwing your shuttle and then let the gromet fly. Be quick and firm!" she added, pretending to fix a loose pin at the lady's throat. "Remember!"

Mrs. Windemere turned towards the goal with a helpless air, but obeyed, and heard a sort of gasp, then a shout that rent the air. She opened her eyes and looked around dazedly. Her gromet was in the bucket, and amid the wild cheering Mr. Malcolm was chalking up a 10 nearly a foot long. This gave the score to Faith's side and Mrs. Windemere was declared the prize winner.

Mr. Allyne could not resist the excitement and hurried up with his congratulations, while even Mrs. Campbell smiled and grew better natured as she, too, came forward and with graceful tact, of which she was a mistress, caught a ribbon from her waist, wound it about one of the gromets, and setting it lightly upon the victor's head led her to a chair.

"Behold our queen!" she shouted merrily, and all joined in the huzzas that followed, while little Mrs. Windemere, who had never received so much notice in her whole life, actually had to wipe the springing tears from her eyes.

Then Mr. Malcolm appeared with the prize, and what do you suppose it was? A lively young porker, nestled down in a lidded basket streaming with gay ribbons!

Amid shouts of laughter Faith gravely presented the prize, always referring to it delicately as "our hampered friend," in supposed reference to the basket, or perhaps, as Mr. Lawrence slyly remarked, "to the other quarters of the beast." She solemnly informed the winner that from time immemorial live prisoners had been considered specially acceptable gifts along the Mediterranean shores, and suggested that, if she should not know what to do with hers, she might be magnanimous, make a feast, and call her neighbors in, at which there was great cheering and clapping.

"Dear me!" said Mrs. Windemere, taking the piggy-wiggy, who really behaved quite well, only squealing occasionally by way of emphasis, "I never made a speech in my life, but I'm ever so much obliged, and I should be delighted to give you all a feast of roast pig, if our captain will furnish the cook and the extras."

"The ship, with all its men and stores, is at your disposal, madam," said Captain Hosmer, doffing his cap with a low bow.

"Then," cried the little lady, rising to the occasion, and looking really pretty with her pink cheeks and brightening eyes, "I invite you all, victors and vanquished, players and non-combatants, to dine on roast pig with Captain Hosmer and myself, to-night at seven o'clock."

"We accept!" came in a tremendous shout from deck-house to bow.

"And may Heaven have mercy on our digestions!" added Mrs. Campbell, rolling up her eyes in horror. "Roast pig in this weather!"

But Laura turned to her younger sister with enthusiasm.

"Do look at ma! Did you ever see her so bright and jolly? She looks downright pretty. She can hold her own better than I thought she could."

"You are seeing her under altogether new conditions, you know," said Mrs. Campbell sweetly, as she stepped off with light tread and non-committal face towards a merrily-laughing group, further on.

"Now, what did she mean by that?" asked Janet in a puzzled tone. "I do wish Zaidee wouldn't be so mysterious!"

"Mysterious?" snapped Laura, who was quicker than her sister. "Why not wish she needn't be so hateful?"

Yet she followed the woman, who could always lead in spite of her peculiar disposition, because of innate charm and tact.

They found the merriment to be over the fact that Mr. Lawrence had the smallest score, and must accept his own prize, already in the hands of Mr. Malcolm.

"Oh, that's too bad!" he cried, weary from his exertions and merriment. "Why rub it in so hard? Is it not enough to be beaten by these youngsters--must I also be made the laughing-stock of passengers and crew? Ah! 'tis indeed a cruelty to load a falling man!"

"Well, uncle, if you're going to quote Wolsey, keep on," laughed his niece mischievously. "'I charge thee fling away ambition!' You see you have soared too high, my lord."

"_Et tu Brute_?" He turned upon her quickly. "Well, well, 'complete my shame.' Where is the prize orator, anyhow?"

"Here, here!" called Hope, coming rapidly forward from a conference with Mr. Malcolm; and amidst a sudden hush she said in a gentle, serious tone, as if reluctantly discharging an imperative duty,

"The prize we have to offer you needs no explanation. As it is familiar to you I will only say it appropriately illustrates one word you have amply understood to-day, and that word is--_whipped_!"

She held aloft one of those clock-work toys one may pick up in Germany, or Switzerland--a severe dame in a flapping cap, with a youngster across her knee whom she vigorously belabors with a neat little bundle of switches. Mr. Lawrence took it with meek 'Thank you,' and amidst the laughter, explained,

"I bought the thing as an object-lesson for a friend at home who, does not believe in corporal punishment for her spoiled child, and to-day thought I would divert it to the purpose of a consolation prize for some of you fellows who couldn't pitch gromets. Like most people who dig a pit for others I have fallen into it myself! And now--may I give this to one of the babies? I never want to see it again."

"I think you may," laughed Hope, and a little curly-pate close by was made happy with the toy, which seemed destined to manifold uses.

Chapter X.

Mrs. Windemere'S Dinner.

"Well, it is almost time for the Lamb dinner," remarked Mr. Lawrence, late that afternoon, to the group about him under the awning of the after-deck, from which they were watching the sunset, some lounging in the easy steamer-chairs, others in the hammocks which had been stretched in every available space, and still others, among whom was Dwight, resting full length on the large Persian rug, which had been laid in the center of the deck planks. For the heat, and still, easy motion made every one lazy.

Upon hearing this remark the boy looked up.

"Lamb dinner? I thought it was pig this morning. It hasn't changed into sheep, I hope?"

"And must I really explain my observation to a lad about entering the High School?" cried his uncle reproachfully. "I'll warrant Bess knows--and somebody else, too!" catching the gleam in Hope's eye.

"Oh,