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8
IT NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH.

of the cheek were delicate, but curving into a round, soft chin; the mouth was one of pathetic loveliness. But the charm of the face was in the eyes, great, soft, velvety, dark eyes, like black pansies, and full of such intense meaning, that it thrilled one's blood to meet their gaze.

What was the meaning? Trecothick tried in vain to fathom. Was it terror, or anxiety, or an appeal for help? Something of all these, mingled with a childish frankness and innocence, impelling any brave and generous nature to dare and do something to answer that endless cry for help.

It was only for a moment that the two pairs of eyes met; in the next an angry voice exclaimed:

"Dolóres!"

The white-haired man, as he spoke, darted back to the door of the coupe, within whose recesses the lovely terrified face had disappeared. Some words followed, inaudible to Trecothick's strained ears; but he saw the old man shake his fist at the hidden figure, and his own strong, young fingers clenched themselves upon the rail, over which he leaned, until it groaned again.

The pile of baggage, by this time, had been wheeled over the gangway; a shout from the boat warned the lagging 'passengers to come on board; and, finally, Trecothick's impatient eyes were greeted by the sight of a figure, closely muffled in a great, loose cloak, the head and face quite hidden in a thick veil, descending from the carriage. This shrouded figure was led across the plank by the still irate old man, who glanced fiercely in every direction, as if challenging notice or interference.

With two steps Trecothick was down the stairs, and lounging carelessly through the principal saloon, expecting to see the newcomers pass into one of the staterooms opening upon it. But they did not appear; and it soon became obvious that they had contented themselves with one of