CHAPTER XX.

In blissful ignorance of any danger, the passengers and most of the crew went the daily round of pleasure or duty.  The games on deck, the smoking and card-playing in the gentlemen’s room, the sleeping and the eating all went on uninterrupted.  Captain Brown, though quieter than usual, was as pleasant and thoughtful as ever.  The sea was smooth, the weather fine, and the ship plowed on her course with no visible indication that she was slowly being crippled.

Lucy had for her use, one of the largest and best ventilated rooms in the ship.  It was so pleasant there, that she spent much of her time in its seclusiveness.  It is needless to state that Chester shared that comfort and seclusion.  Reading, talking, building castles which reached into the heavens, these two basked in the warm light of a perfect love.  After a little buffeting about in worldly storms, two hearts had come to rest; and how penetratingly sweet was that serene peace of soul.  In him she saw her highest ideals realized, her fondest hopes and dreams come true.  In her he found the composite perfectness of woman.  All his visions from early youth to the present materialized in the sweet face, gentle spirit and pure soul of Lucy Strong!

Chester, the day after Captain Brown had told him about the condition of the ship, found Lucy in her room.  She was not well, the father had said, so Chester sought her out.  She was reclining on the couch.  His heart, burdened with what he knew melted towards the girl.  He drew a stool up to her, and kissed his good-morning.

“Not so well today?” he asked.

“No; my heart has been troubling me all night; but I’m better now.”

“Now, see here, my girl, I’m the one that ought to be ill.”

“How’s that?” she smiled at him.

“Have we not exchanged hearts?”

“Oh, I see.  Yes; but the strength only went with mine.  The weakness I retained.  It would not have been fair otherwise.”

She sat up and pushed back her hair.  He seated himself near her and drew her in his arm.  He held her close.

“Some things,” said he, “we can not give, much as we would like.  Some burdens we must carry ourselves.”

“Which I take it, is a very wise provision,” she added.

There was silence after that.  It was not easy for either of them to talk, each being constrained with his own crowded thoughts.  Chester listened to the rhythmic beat of the machinery, and wondered vaguely how long it would continue thus, and what would happen if it had to stop.

“Chester,” said Lucy at last, “what if I should die?” She clung to him as she said it.

“But, my dear, you’re not going to die.  You’re going to get completely well again—­You’re going to stay with me, you know.”

“That’s the worst, when I think of it—­the thought of separating from you—­O Chester, I can’t do that—­All my life I’ve waited and watched for you, and now to leave you, to lose you again—­and we’ve been together such a short time!  I can’t bear to think of it.”  The tears welled in her eyes.