occur to me, when I leave ber yacht, by reason of my association with her! It is like her thoughtfulness."
"Shall we go?"
I signified my assent, and we set off.
When we reached Alie's cabin, we found her reclining on a couch at the further end, the bulldog, as usual, at her feet. She held a packet of papers in her hand which, previous to our arrival, it was evident she had been perusing. At the other end, near the companion-ladder, but on the starboard side, between two sailors, stood the prisoner, Ebbington. He looked, as well he might, hopelessly miserable. He opened his eyes in astonishment when he saw me enter. I, however, crossed the cabin with Walworth and stood on the port side without letting him see that I recognised him. Then solemn silence fell upon us all for nearly a minute. While it lasted Alie sat with her chin on her hand staring steadfastly at Ebbington. Under her gaze, he lowered his eyes, and when I noticed that his fingers twined convulsively over and round each other, I could imagine the state of his mind. The fellow was plainly as frightened as it was possible for him to be. Then Alie lifted her head and spoke in a voice as soft as a kitten's purr.
"Mr. Ebbington," she said, "do you know me?"
He did not answer, but I saw the first finger and thumb of his right hand clutch at his trouser leg and hold it tight. That action was more significant than any words. Again she spoke:
"Mr. Ebbington," she said, "my trusted servant, my faithful friend, my honourable agent, I ask you again, do you know me?"
