"Razzla-dazzla, razzla-dazzla," while his hearers beat upon glasses with

spoons--at least so I conjectured.
"Aren't you coming, John?" asked Hortense, appearing at the companionway.

She looked very bacchanalian. Her splendid amber hair was half riotous,
and I was reminded of the toboggan fire-escape.

He obeyed her; and now I had the deck entirely to myself, or, rather, but
one other and distant person shared it with me. The hour had come, the

bells had struck; Charley's crew was eating its dinner below forward;
Charley's guests were drinking their liquor below aft; Charley's correct

meal-flag was to be seen in the port fore rigging, as he had said, red
and triangular; and away off from me in the bow was the anchor watch,

whom I dreamily watched trying to light his pipe. His matches seemed to
be bad; and the brotherly thought of helping him drifted into my mind--

and comfortably out of it again, without disturbing my agreeable repose.
It had been really entertaining in John to tell Kitty that she ought to

see the inside of Kings Port; that was like his engaging impishness with
Juno. If by any possible contrivance (and none was possible) Kitty and

her Replacers could have met the inside of Kings Port, Kitty would have
added one more "quaint" impression to her stock, and gone away in total

ignorance of the quality of the impression she had made--and Bohm would
probably have again remarked, "Worse than Sunday." No; the St. Michaels

and the Replacers would never meet in this world, and I see no reason
that they should in the next. John's light and pleasingskirmish with

Kitty gave me the glimpse of his capacities which I had lacked hitherto.
John evidently "knew his way about," as they say; and I was diverted to

think how Miss Josephine St. Michael would have nodded over his adequacy
and shaken her head at his squandering it on such a companion. But it was

no squandering; the boy's heavy spirit was making a gallant "bluff" at
playing up with the lively party he had no choice but to join, and this

one saw the moment he was not called upon to play up.
The peacefulloveliness that floated from earth and water around me

triumphed over the jangling hilarity of the cabin, and I dozed away,
aware that they were now all thumping furiously" target="_blank" title="ad.狂怒地；有力地">furiously in chorus, while Gazza

sang something that went, "Oh, she's my leetle preety poosee pet." When I
roused, it was Kitty's voice at the piano, but no change in the quality

of the song or the thumping; and Hortense was stepping on deck. She had a
cigarette, her beauty flashed with devilment, and John followed her.

"They are going to have an explanation," I thought, as I saw his face. If
that were so, then Kitty had blundered in her strategy and hurt Charley's

cause; for after the two came Gazza, as obviously "sent" as any emissary
ever looked: Kitty took care of the singing, while Gazza intercepted any

tete-a-tete. I rose and made a fourth with them, and even as I was
drawing near, the devilment in Hortense's face sank inward beneath cold

displeasure.
I had never been a welcome person to Hortense, and she made as little

effort to conceal this as usual. Her indifferent eyes glanced at me with
drowsy insolence, and she made her beautiful, low voice as remote and

inattentive as her skilful social equipment could render it.
"It is so hot in the cabin."

This was all she had for me. Then she looked at Gazza with returning
animation.

"Oh, la la!" said Gazza. "If it is hot in the cabin!" And he flirted his
handkerchief back and forth.

"I think I had the best of it," I remarked. "All the melody and none of
the temperature."

Hortense saw no need of noticing me further
"The singer has the worst of it," said Gazza.

"But since you all sang!" I laughed.
"Miss Rieppe, she is cool," continued Gazza. "And she danced. It is not

fair."
John contributed nothing. He was by no means playing up now. He was

looking away at the shore.
Gazza hummed a little fragment. "But after lunch I will sing you good

music."
"So long as it keeps us cool," I suggested.

"Ah, no! It will not be cool music!" cried Gazza--"for those who
understand."

"Are those boys bathing?" Hortense now inquired.
We watched the distant figures, and presently they flashed into the

water.
"Oh, me!" sighed Gazza. "If I were a boy!"

Hortense looked at him. "You would be afraid." The devilment had come out
again, suddenly and brilliantly:

"I never have been afraid!" declared Gazza.
"You would not jump in after me," said Hortense, taking his measure more

and more provokingly.
Gazza laid his hand on his heart. "Where you go, I will go!"

Hortense looked at him, and laughed very slightly and lightly.
"I swear it! I swear!" protested Gazza.

John's eyes were now fixed upon Hortense.
"Would you go?" she asked him

"Decidedly not!" he returned. I don't know whether he was angry or
anxious.

"Oh, yes, you would!" said Hortense; and she jumped into the water,
cigarette and all.

"Get a boat, quick," said John to me; and with his coat flung off he was
in the river, whose current Hortense could scarce have reckoned with; for

they were both already astern as I ran out on the port boat boom.
Gazza was dancing and shrieking, "Man overboard!" which, indeed, was the

correct expression, only it did not apply to himself. Gazza was a very
sensible person. I had, as I dropped into the nearest boat, a brisk sight

of the sailing-master, springing like a jack-in-the-box on the deserted
deck, with a roar of "Where's that haymaker?" His reference was to the

anchor watch. The temptation to procure good matches to light his pipe
had ended (I learned later) by proving too much for this responsible

sailor-man, and he had unfortunately chosen for going below just the
unexpected moment when it had entered the daring head of Hortense to

perform this extravagance. Of course, before I had pulled many strokes,
the deck of the Hermana was alive with many manifestations of life-saving

and they had most likely been in time. But I am not perfectly sure of
this; the current was strong, and a surprising distance seemed to

broaden between me and the Hermana before another boat came into sight
around her stern. By then, or just after that (for I cannot clearly

remember the details of these few anxious minutes), I had caught up with
John, whose face, and total silence, as he gripped the stern of the boat

with one hand and held Hortense with the other, plainly betrayed it was
high time somebody came. A man can swim (especially in salt water) with

his shoes on, and his clothes add nothing of embarrassment, if his arms
are free; but a woman's clothes do not help either his buoyancy or the

freedom of his movement. John now lifted Hortense's two hands, which took
a good hold of the boat. From between her lips the dishevelled cigarette,

bitten through and limp, fell into the water. The boat felt the weight of
the two hands to it.

"Take care," I warned John.
Hortense opened her eyes and looked at me; she knew that I meant her.

"I'll not swamp you." This was her first remark. Her next was when, after
no incautious haste, I had hauled her in over the stern, John working

round to the bow for the sake of balance: "I was not dressed for
swimming." Very quietly did Hortense speak; very coolly, very evenly; no

fainting--and no flippancy; she was too game for either.
After this, whatever emotions she had felt, or was feeling, she showed

none of them, unless it was by her complete silence. John's coming into
the boat we managed with sufficient dexterity; aided by the horrified

Charley, who now arrived personally in the other boat, and was for taking
all three of us into that. But this was altogether unnecessary; he was

made to understand that such transferences as it would occasion were
superfluous, and so one of his men stepped into our boat to help me to

row back against the current; and for this I was not unthankful.
Our return took, it appeared to me, a much longer time than everything

else which had happened. When I looked over my shoulder at the Hermana,
she seemed an incredible distance off, and when I looked again, she had