blown up or landed on a desert island. In the first place there will be an end, in the other only a continuation."
She did not add—"of misery"; but her companion comprehended her meaning. For a moment or two both looked towards the horizon, for it was not yet quite dark, and then Philip said with a slight laugh,—
"It ought to mean something for most people; I suppose it does to nearly all who are here at present, to judge from the general air of disquiet which pervades."
"Does it mean much to you at present?"
It was too dark now to see her face, but he answered her promptly.
"Frankly, Mrs Austin, I do not think it does;—of course, not knowing how fate may come, or when, I can sympathise with the poor Csar of Russia."
"It must be awkward to be a Csar nowadays," she said lightly.
"I would not take the post even although I could."
"Nor do I fancy any man in his senses would," she replied. "The honour, if it is an honour, is not worth the anxiety and peril."
It was half-past eight now, and the bell had just been struck. Above them the sky was studded with stars and planets, all glowing with tropical brightness, the electric lights shone through the music-room windows, where one lady was playing to another's singing. It was a Jewess who was entertaining the company with her voice, which was a rich contralto, and the song was one of the latest and most sentimental. On the decks the groups had gathered and arranged themselves for the usual flirtations, and beyond, on the second-class deck, scattered groups could be seen.
Over the ship's side the phosphorescent flashes burnt
