“Yes.  Mustapha and myself were in hiding not far away.  We were astounded at the easy way those fellows died.”

At this Lady Ruth gives a merry peal of laughter.

“It was really ridiculous.”

“Did you guess it at the time?”

“Well, certain things looked very strange to me.  I was amazed as we were leaving to see a man whom I was positive had twice fallen as if dead, raise his head and look after us with a smile on his ugly face.

“Whatever I thought, I was so glad to get away on any terms that I said nothing, and when the next engagement took place I found Sir Lionel very much in earnest.

“On this account, although feeling sure that he was the cause of all the trouble, I have been disposed to forgive him.  You know the poor fellow professes to be in love with me, though I have had some reason to believe it is my fortune he is after as well, for my father unfortunately left me an heiress.”

“Well, I’m in a position to be generous, and though I condemn his methods, I can easily see how, in his despair he might forget his honor.  I have good reason to believe this is not the first time he has tried to play the hero.”

Lady Ruth looks surprised.

“How is that?” she asks.

Thereupon John narrates what the boatman said to him off Malta, concerning a broken plank in the bottom of the little craft, which of course astonishes the young girl.

She shows some indignation at the thought of his imperiling her life.

“The joke of the whole thing lies in the fact that it was you who saved the would-be hero of the occasion,” remarks John, and this fact induces both of them to laugh.

On the whole they feel so happy that it is hard to bear a grudge even against the veteran who has been baffled by fate.

Lady Ruth cannot forget that Sir Lionel gave many evidences of being in love with her, and a woman is apt to forgive even a fault in a man who professes to have sinned for her, to have even given up honor in the hope of winning her favor.

“I have arranged a little scheme whereby I hope to pay Sir Lionel back in his own coin,” says the young Chicagoan, grimly.

“Why, John, I thought you said just now that you could forgive him.  Now you pretend to be quite blood-thirsty.”

“Oh, no; not that.  I’m looking out for the poor fellow.  He’s gone it alone quite long enough, and I want to see him caught.”

“Caught?  Explain, please.  Perhaps I’m a little obtuse, but really, under the circumstances—­”

“Yes, I know.  It’s all excusable, my dear girl.  In plain English I want to see the veteran married.”

“Married?”

“And I shall take upon myself the task of selecting the girl who will rule him hereafter.”

“John, what do you mean?  Surely—­oh, that is nonsense.  Tell me who she is?”

“Pauline Potter,” calmly.

“Why, that’s the actress.”