compared with the most powerful steam-engine.  A pressure upon a button, and a few seconds sufficed to exchange a speed of four for one of twenty miles an hour; while, instead of sinking the vessel below the surface, the master directed the engine to pump out all the liquid ballast she contained.  The waterspout thus sent forth half-drowned the enemy which had already come within a few yards of our starboard quarter, and effectually-scared the others.  It was just as well that Enva, who heartily hated the bitter cold, was snugly ensconced in the warm cushions of the cabin, and had not, therefore, the opportunity of giving to Eveena, on our return, her version of an adventure whose alarming aspect would have impressed them both more than its ludicrous side, For half a minute I thought that I had, in sheer folly, exposed half a dozen lives to a peril none the less real and none the more satisfactory that, if five had been killed, the survivor could not have so told the story as to avoid laughing—­or being laughed at.

Sweet and serene as was Eveena’s smile of welcome, it could not conceal the traces of more than mere depression on her countenance.  Heartily willing to administer an effective lesson to her tormentors, I seized the occasion of the sunset meal to notice the weary and harassed look she had failed wholly to banish.

“You look worse each time I return, Madonna.  This time it is not merely my absence, if it ever were so.  I will know who or what has driven and hunted you so.”

Taken thus by surprise, every face but one bore witness to the truth:  Eveena’s distress, Eunane’s mixed relief and dismay, shared in yet greater degree by Velna, who knew less of me, the sheer terror and confusion of the rest, were equally significant.  The Martial judge who said that “the best evidence was lost because colour could not be tested or blushes analysed,” would have passed sentence at once.  But if Eive’s air of innocent unconsciousness and childish indifference were not sincere, it merited the proverbial praise of consummate affectation, “more golden than the sun and whiter than snow.”  Eveena’s momentary glance at once drew mine upon this “pet child,” but neither disturbed her.  Nor did she overact her part.  “Eive,” said Enva one day, “never salts her tears or paints her blushes.”  As soon as she caught my look of doubt—­

“Have I done wrong?” she said, in a tone half of confidence, half of reproach.  “Punish me, then, Clasfempta, as you please—­with Eveena’s sandal.”

The repartee delighted those who had reason to desire any diversion.  The appeal to Eveena disarmed my unwilling and momentary distrust.  Eveena, however, answered by neither word nor look, and the party presently broke up.  Eive crept close to claim some silent atonement for unspoken suspicion, and a few minutes had elapsed before, to the evident alarm of several conscious culprits, I sought Eveena in her own chamber.