Genre Adventures. Page - 4

Governor in his Ramillies wig, his glasses, and his powdering-gown still seated sedately at the lonely table with his reeking pipe and six black bottles by his side."I have drunk with the Governor of St. Kitt's when he was sick," said he, "and God forbid that I should ever try to keep pace with him when he is well." The voyage of the Morning Star was a successful one, and in about three weeks she was at the mouth of the British Channel. From the first day the infirm Governor

>"I b'lieve, Cap'n," remarked Trot, at last, "thatit's time for us to start."The old man cast a shrewd glance at the sky, thesea and the motionless boat. Then he shook his head. "Mebbe it's time, Trot," he answered, "but I don'tjes' like the looks o' things this afternoon." "What's wrong?" she asked wonderingly. "Can't say as to that. Things is too quiet to suitme, that's all. No breeze, not a ripple a-top the water,nary a gull a-flyin'

all the extravagant luxuries of modern civilized life, on whom the discoveries of that first day of sun and wind in the Channel must have come with the greatest surprise. They had heard the ship described as a floating hotel; but as they began to explore her they must have found that she contained resources of a perfection unattained by any hotel, and luxuries of a kind unknown in palaces. The beauties of French chateaux and of English country-houses of the great period had been dexterously

out the air lock or loafing on the surface. You wouldn't believe how blue the waves could be. They tell me on Rustum you can't come down off the mountain tops.""But we'd have the whole planet to ourselves," said Teresa Zeleny. One with a gentle scholar's face answered: "That may be precisely the trouble, my dear. Three thousand of us, counting children, totally isolated from the human mainstream. Can we hope to build a civilization? Or even maintain one?" "Your

ttwelve paces distant; when, abruptly, the silent figure made three quickstrides to the port rail, and climbed over it into the sea.I rushed to the side, and stared over; but nothing met my gaze, exceptthe shadow of the ship, sweeping over the moonlit sea. How long I stared down blankly into the water, it would be impossible tosay; certainly for a good minute. I felt blank--just horribly blank. Itwas such a beastly confirmation of the unnaturalness of the thing Ihad concluded to be only a sort

Cawley--should have a place in the honourable list of those who did their duty faithfully to the ship and the line they served. CHAPTER II FROM SOUTHAMPTON TO THE NIGHT OF THE COLLISION Soon after noon the whistles blew for friends to go ashore, the gangways were withdrawn, and the Titanic moved slowly down the dock, to the accompaniment of last messages and shouted farewells of those on the quay. There was no cheering or hooting of steamers' whistles from the fleet of ships that lined the

rike Europe. Piff! My cig's out. I can'tsmoke the truck the steward sells. Any gen'elman got a realTurkish cig on him?"The chief engineer entered for a moment, red, smiling, and wet."Say, Mac," cried Harvey cheerfully, "how are we hitting it?" "Vara much in the ordinary way," was the grave reply. "The youngare as polite as ever to their elders, an' their elders are e'entryin' to appreciate it." A low chuckle came from a corner. The German opened

feet, everything about him was too much chiseled, overdelicate. Sitting still, he might have been taken for a very pretty girl masquerading in male attire; but when he moved, his lithe agility suggested a tame panther without the claws."Is that really it? What should I do without you, Arthur? I should always be losing my things. No, I am not going to write any more now. Come out into the garden, and I will help you with your work. What is the bit you couldn't understand?" They went

nd of Tortuga free from the obnoxious strangers, down upon Hispaniola they came, flushed with their easy victory, and determined to root out every Frenchman, until not one single buccaneer remained. For a time they had an easy thing of it, for each French hunter roamed the woods by himself, with no better company than his half-wild dogs, so that when two or three Spaniards would meet such a one, he seldom if ever came out of the woods again, for even his resting place was lost.But the very

he illumination consisted of candles set in bottles and some electric hand lamps. The centre of the cellar was occupied by two portable operating tables, rarely untenanted during the three hours I spent in this hell.The atmosphere--for there was no ventilation--stank of sweat, blood, and chloroform. By a powerful effort I countered my natural tendency to vomit, and looked around me. The sides of the cellar were lined with figures on stretchers. Some lay still and silent, others writhed and