out over the weary stretch with pale, grave face and quiet eyes.  At the motion of the captain, she stepped forward, bound the ropes about herself, and was swung over the side to await the motion of the boat, as it slid within reach on the top of the long wave, or receded down its shining, slippery hollow.  At length one swell brought it nearer, Mr. Raleigh’s arms snatched the slight form and drew her half-fainting into the boat, a cloak was tossed after, and one by one the remainder followed; they were all safe, and some beggared.  The bows of the schooner already plunged deep down in the gaping gulfs, they pulled bravely away, and were tossed along from billow to billow.

“You are very uncomfortable, Mademoiselle Le Blanc?” asked the rescued captain at once of the young woman, as she sat beside him in the stern-sheets.

“Moi?” she replied. “Mais non, Monsieur.”

Mr. Raleigh wrapped the cloak about her, as she spoke.  They were equidistant from the two vessels, neither of which was to be seen, the rain fell fast into the hissing brine, their fate still uncertain.  There was something strangely captivating and reassuring in this young girl’s equanimity, and he did not cease speculating thereon till they had again reached the Osprey, and she had disappeared below.

By degrees the weather lightened; the Osprey was on the wing again, and a week’s continuance of this fair wind would bring them into port.  The next day, toward sunset, as Mr. Raleigh turned about in his regular pacing of the deck, he saw at the opposite extremity of the ship the same slight figure dangerously perched upon the taffrail, leaning over, now watching the closing water, and now eagerly shading her eyes with her hand to observe the ship which they spoke, as they lay head to the wind, and for a better view of which she had climbed to this position.  It was not Mr. Raleigh’s custom to interfere; if people chose to drown themselves, he was not the man to gainsay them; but now, as his walk drew him toward her, it was the most natural thing in the world to pause and say,—­

“Il serait facheux, Mademoiselle, lorsqu’ on a failli faire naufrage, de se noyer”—­and, in want of a word, Mr. Raleigh ignominiously descended to his vernacular—­“with a lee-lurch.”

The girl, resting on the palm of one hand, and unsupported otherwise, bestowed upon him no reply, and did not turn her head.  Mr. Raleigh looked at her a moment, and then continued his walk.  Returning, the thing happened as he had predicted, and, with a little quick cry, Mademoiselle Le Blanc was hanging by her hands among the ropes.  Reaching her with a spring, “Viens, petite!” he said, and with an effort placed her on her feet again before an alarm could have been given.

“Ah! mais je crus c’en etait fait de moi!” she exclaimed, drawing in her breath like a sob.  In an instant, however, surveying Mr. Raleigh, the slight emotion seemed to yield to one of irritation, that she had been rescued by him; for she murmured quickly, in English, head haughtily thrown back and eyes downcast,—­“Monsieur thinks that I owe him much for having saved my life!”