“O, certainly, if its against the rules,” he replied meekly.  His hat and coat were lying on a chair by some ladies.  He put these on again, and then sat down and began talking to the one nearest him.  Chester, who had followed the fellow’s capers with some interest, gave a start when he saw that the lady with whom the man was trying to carry on a conversation was the minister’s daughter.  She was visibly annoyed, and looked about as if for help.  Chester thought her eyes fell on him, and without hesitation he determined to assist her.  He went up to them, and without appearing to see the girl, reached out his hand to the man, saying: 

“Halloo Jack!  Didn’t know you were on board till I saw your capers just now.  I want to talk to you a moment.  Come along and have a drink first.”

The fellow stared at Chester and was about to deny any acquaintanceship with him, when the insistent manner of the greeting changed his mind.  He excused himself to the lady, arose and followed.  Chester took his arm as they walked along.

“Which is your state-room?” asked Chester.

“It’s 340; but what you want to know for?  Aren’t we going to have a drink?”

“Not just now, my man.  You’re going to your room, and to bed.  You got up too early.  Listen,”—­as the sobering man began to resent the interference,—­“there’s an officer looking at us.  He will do nothing if you will go along quietly with me, but if you make a scene I’ll hand you over to him.”

They found the man’s room and he willingly went in and lay down.  “Now,” said Chester to him, “remain below until you’re sober.  And don’t bother that young lady again—­do you hear. Don’t you do it.”

Chester went on deck again, somewhat in wonder at his own conduct.  He was not in the habit of interfering in other people’s business, and never mixed with drunken affairs.  But this surely was different.  No man would have refused that appeal for help.  Yes; he was sure she had pleaded with her eyes.  Perhaps he ought to go back and receive her thanks, but he resisted that impulse.  He walked to the extreme rear of the boat and stood looking at the broad white path which the ship was making in the green sea.  He stood gazing for some time, then turned, and there sitting on a coil of rope was the girl who had been in his mind.  She saw his confusion and smiled at it.

“I—­I came to thank you,” she said; “but I did not like to disturb your meditations, so I sat down to rest.”

“The sea has used you up quite badly, hasn’t it?”

“O no; I was dreadfully ill before I came aboard.  This trip is to make me well, so papa says.”

“I hope so.”  There was a pause, during which Chester found a seat on a bit of ship furniture.  This girl’s voice was like an echo from far-away Utah and Piney Ridge Cottage.  And there was something about the shapely head now framed in wind-blown hair and the face itself that reminded him of someone else.  Just how the resemblance came in he could not tell, but there it was.  Perhaps, after all, it was just the look in her eyes and the spirit that accompanied her actions and words that moved him.