enjoy the deepening foretaste of arrival, which had taken possession of her mind.  Before turning in I went above and found more passengers on deck than I had ever seen so late.  Jasper moved about among them alone, but I forbore to join him.  The coast of Ireland had disappeared, but the night and the sea were perfect.  On the way to my cabin, when I came down, I met the stewardess in one of the passages, and the idea entered my head to say to her:  “Do you happen to know where Miss Mavis is?”

“Why she’s in her room, sir, at this hour.”

“Do you suppose I could speak to her?” It had come into my mind to ask her why she had wanted to know of me if I should recognise Mr. Porterfield.

“No sir,” said the stewardess; “she has gone to bed.”

“That’s all right.”  And I followed the young lady’s excellent example.

The next morning, while I dressed, the steward of my side of the ship came to me as usual to see what I wanted.  But the first thing he said to, me was:  “Rather a bad job, sir—­a passenger missing.”  And while I took I scarce know what instant chill from it, “A lady, sir,” he went on—­“whom I think you knew.  Poor Miss Mavis, sir.”

“Missing?” I cried—­staring at him and horror-stricken.

“She’s not on the ship.  They can’t find her.”

“Then where to God is she?”

I recall his queer face.  “Well sir, I suppose you know that as well as I.”

“Do you mean she has jumped overboard?”

“Some time in the night, sir—­on the quiet.  But it’s beyond every one, the way she escaped notice.  They usually sees ’em, sir.  It must have been about half-past two.  Lord, but she was sharp, sir.  She didn’t so much as make a splash.  They say she ’ad come against her will, sir.”

I had dropped upon my sofa—­I felt faint.  The man went on, liking to talk as persons of his class do when they have something horrible to tell.  She usually rang for the stewardess early, but this morning of course there had been no ring.  The stewardess had gone in all the same about eight o’clock and found the cabin empty.  That was about an hour previous.  Her things were there in confusion—­the things she usually wore when she went above.  The stewardess thought she had been a bit odd the night before, but had waited a little and then gone back.  Miss Mavis hadn’t turned up—­and she didn’t turn up.  The stewardess began to look for her—­she hadn’t been seen on deck or in the saloon.  Besides, she wasn’t dressed—­not to show herself; all her clothes were in her room.  There was another lady, an old lady, Mrs. Nettlepoint—­I would know her—­that she was sometimes with, but the stewardess had been with her and knew Miss Mavis hadn’t come near her that morning.  She had spoken to him and they had taken a quiet look—­they had hunted everywhere.  A ship’s a big place, but you did come to the end of it, and if a person wasn’t there why