“Don’t worry, sir,” Hal rejoined, briefly.

The second dance, also, Jack Benson enjoyed with Mlle. Nadiboff.  The young woman herself arranged that gracefully.  At the end of the second dance Jack led his partner to a seat.  Then she sent him for a glass of water.

Her cobwebby lace handkerchief fell to the floor.  M. Lemaire, passing at that instant, espied it, picked it up, and returned it to her with the bow of a polished man of the world.

“Flatter the young fellow!  Make him dance attendance on you to the point that he forgets all else,” whispered the man.

“Trust me for that,” murmured the girl.

“I do.”  And M. Lemaire was gone, swallowed up in the increasing throng.

As Jack Benson brought the glass of water Mlle. Nadiboff sipped at it daintily.  Raising her eyes so that she could read the placard now suspended from the balcony rail, she announced: 

“The next number is a waltz, Captain Benson.  Truly, I am eager to know how you waltz.  It is a sailor’s measure.”

“Then perhaps you will favor me with a waltz, later in the evening,” returned Jack, courteously.  “But if I had the impudence to ask you for this waltz, and if you were generous enough to grant it to me, I know what would happen.”

“What, my friend?”

The word “friend” was gently spoken, but Jack Benson replied bluntly: 

“Some of the men here would lynch me, later in the night, Mlle. Nadiboff.”

The young woman laughed musically, though, as Jack glanced away for an instant, a frown flashed briefly over her face.

“You will not disappoint me, I know, Captain,” she murmured, persuasively.  “Besides, you are too brave to fear lynching for an act that grants pleasure.”

This was so direct that Jack Benson could not well escape.  Nor, truth to tell, did he want to.  He found Mlle. Nadiboff’s bright, gentle smile most alluring.  So, when the music for the waltz sounded the submarine captain led her forth on to the floor.

At the finish, after Jack had led his partner to a seat, Lieutenant Featherstone joined them.  One or two others approached, and Benson slipped away, though just before he did so the young woman’s eyes met his with a flash of invitation to seek her again later.

“You’ve been extremely, attentive, but I, imagine some of the other men are combining to thrash you, Jack,” smiled Farnum, when Benson returned to his friends.

“Mlle. Nadiboff is a very delightful young woman,” Jack answered, heartily.  “I’m sorry you don’t dance, Hal.”

“If I were very sorry, I’d learn,” rejoined Hastings, simply.

During the waltz and the number that followed Jack remained with his friends, looking on.

Then Lieutenant Featherstone, feeling that the Navy must look to the enjoyment of these strangers, came over to them.