She overrated my benevolence on this occasion, however.  I was lost in painful reverie, and scarcely understood a word of her communication, which I was obliged at last to cut short, for I had resolved, now that my strength was recruited, on the only visible course remaining to me—­I would seek Miss Lamarque, confide to her the statement of Christian Garth, relate to her what my eyes had seen, and be guided by her determination and judgment, with those of her brother, a man of sense, I saw, and whose instincts, no doubt, would all be sharpened by the jeopardy of his children.

She was sitting up in her state-room when I knocked at the door, still in her berth, the lower one—­from which the upper shelf had been lifted so as to afford her room and air—­looking very Oriental and handsomer than I ever had seen her, in her bright Madras night-turban and fine white cambric wrapper richly trimmed.

Her face broke into smiles as soon as she beheld me; and she invited me, in a way not to be resisted, so resolute and yet so kindly was it, to partake with her of the hot coffee her maid was just handing her in bed, in a small gilded cup, a portion of the service on the stand beside her.

“It is our Southern custom, you know, Miss Harz—­always our cafe noir before breakfast, as a safeguard against malaria.  To be sure, there is nothing of that sort to be apprehended at sea, but still habits are inveterate; second nature, as the moralists and copy-books say, as if there ever could be more than one.  What nonsense these wiseacres talk, to be sure!  But there is cream, you see, for those who like it—­boiled down and bottled for the use of the children before leaving home—­one of Dominica’s notions;” and here the smiling maid, with her little, respectful courtesy, tendered me a reviving cup of Miss Lamarque’s morning beverage, Mocha, made to the last point of perfection, dripped and filtered over a spirit-lamp by Dominica, the skillful and neat-handed.

“But you are very pale to-day, my child—­what on earth can be the matter?—­There, Dominica, I thought I heard Florry cry!  Go and help Caliste get the children ready for a trot upon deck before breakfast, and don’t forget to give each one a gill of cream and a biscuit—­or, stay, twice as much for the two elder before they go up.  It may be some time before they get their regular morning meal.—­They have to wait, you know, Miss Harz, which is such rank injustice where children are concerned.  Patience never belongs to unreasoning creatures, unless an instinct, as with animals; men have to learn its lessons through the teachings of experience—­that strictest of school-masters.  Now, you see, I have my lecturing-cap on, and am almost equal to you or Dr. Lardner in my way.  But it takes you to define fascination!  I suppose Mrs. Heavyside, however, could help you there—­for nothing short of witchcraft could account to me for her elopement with that dreary man!  To leave her sweet children, too, as if all the men on earth could be worth to a true mother her teething baby’s little toe or finger!”