the young man had seen nothing, he was still murmuring disconnected phrases of greeting—"Most highly honoured! Such condescension! Entirely at Your Highness's disposal." As they reached the deck, the Captain stood aside to give passage to "His Highness" disclosing to view the deck, with Ragna who had retreated to a chair at some distance, and as His Highness stepped to the deck, his eyes followed the Captain's to the girl; then he raised them in inquiry to Petersen's face. The latter with a sweeping gesture and a voice unconsciously raised to quarter-deck tones answered the unspoken question.

"A fellow-passenger, Your Highness, the daughter of an old friend who I am bringing back from school. She speaks French like a Russian—Will Your Highness permit?" His Highness graciously permitted and they walked over to Ragna who rose to her feet annoyed by the blushes which came in spite of her, under the young stranger's scrutiny. Captain Petersen chuckling at her embarrassment addressed her in his genial roar:

"Ragna, His Royal Highness, Prince Mirko of Montegria has permitted me to present you, and I make you responsible for his entertainment during the trip. Didn't I tell you I had a surprise for you that would take your breath away? You can begin at once; I'm no carpet-knight, and managing this ship is about enough for me. Her name is Andersen, Your Highness, Fröken Ragna Andersen—and with your kind permission—" someone hailed him and he bustled away.

The servants were coming on board, directing the stewards with the luggage and the Prince's companion had already gone below to arrange the details of the installation.

Ragna had made her curtsey and stood in silent embarrassment until Prince Mirko broke the ice by saying smilingly:

"A kind Fate evidently presides over my destiny—but Captain Petersen was wrong in preparing you for a surprise; he should have warned me of the pleasure in store for me."

Then seeing how unsophisticated the girl was, and that his complimentary phrase only added to her confusion, he put her quite at her ease by making an ordinary remark or two about the weather, followed by a few questions as to her life in the Convent and the journey to Hamburg. They were still talking, standing by the rail, when the young man who had accompanied Prince Mirko in the carriage, approached and stopped within a few paces of them.

"Oh," said the Prince, "Mademoiselle, let me present my friend and aide-de-camp, Count Angelescu. What is it, Otto?"

"Captain Petersen wishes to know if Your Highness will have luncheon served in your state-room, or if you will eat in the saloon. There are no other passengers beside your party and this young lady."

"The saloon, by all means, Otto, and tell the Captain I hope he will join us, as well as Mademoiselle, if she will do us the honour!"—He looked at Ragna who bowed.

Count Angelescu also bowed and withdrew—he had bowed to Ragna, bringing his heels together with a click, when his Prince presented him, but had seemed to give her no further attention. In reality he had observed her closely and her frank expression and fresh youthfulness pleased him. Ragna's impression of him was equally favourable; she liked his bronzed soldierly face, with the grave eyes and the firm mouth under the dark moustache. He must be thirty or over, she thought, the Prince could not be more than twenty-four or five.

The sailors had lowered the gang-plank and were casting off the hawsers which held the steamer to the wharf. A wheezy donkey-engine was lowering boxes and bales through the forward hatch; on the river side a small puffing tug was slowly warping the Norje into midstream. Ragna and the Prince could hear Captain Petersen on the bridge, now calling orders through the tube to the engine room, now bawling through his speaking-trumpet. His round face looked like an overgrown peony and Ragna said so, to her companion's amusement.

"Is that the botany they teach you in Paris?" he asked.

"Oh," she answered, laughing gayly, "Paris is a place where one learns many things!"

"Even in a Convent?"

"Even in a Convent."

He shot a stealthy glance at her from under dropped lids—the girl was thoroughly innocent, there could be no doubt as to that. A smile twitched his moustache—the things Paris had taught him were not subjects usually included in the curriculum of a girls' school, and the piquancy of the contrast between his experience of la Villa Lumière and that of Ragna amused him. He stood idly watching her—her face interested him, not from its prettiness alone—she was at the same time more and less than pretty. It was no doll's face, the cheek-bones were too high and prominent for the canons of perfect beauty, the mouth too large and the forehead too high, but there was an indescribable charm he did not seek to analyse—enough that it should be perceptible. He felt instinctively that though childlike in her mind Ragna was no fool, and that it would amuse him to draw her out. So he led her on to express her opinions on various subjects grave and gay, such as came up in their desultory conversation.

The announcement of luncheon, by means of a cracked gong, was no interruption for the Captain excused himself on the ground that his presence was required on the bridge, and Count Angelescu barely joined in the conversation from time to time in response to a direct appeal from the Prince or from Ragna.

The girl had lost all trace of shyness and was enjoying herself heartily in the highest of spirits, and Prince Mirko seemed more like a school-boy on a holiday than the heir to a kingdom on a diplomatic mission. He explained to Ragna that he was on his way to Stockholm, and from there to St. Petersburg.

"But," he said, "that is all so appallingly serious that I am cutting capers while I may—I often cut them when I should not, don't I, Otto? And old 'Long face' there, tries to keep me in order; old 'Long face' does not approve of me now!" he laughed.

Count Angelescu did not reply, nor did he even smile at the sally; he was not at all pleased by the rate at which the camaraderie between the Prince and Ragna was progressing. He knew his Prince for a "coureur de cotillons" and scented danger from afar. "Fortunately we land the day after to-morrow," he thought. Two days is a short time, but much can happen in them.

Ragna had listened, astonished by the bantering challenge.

"Why," she exclaimed, "Your Highness, can you be kept in order?"

The naïve question so pleased the Prince that he roared with laughter, as did also Count Angelescu who answered her.

"No, Mademoiselle, he can't, and that's the worst of it! I do my best; it's no use; I advise you to beware of him, he's dangerous."

"Now, Otto, none of that! I won't have you making me out an ogre. I assure you," he said, turning to Ragna, "that I am warranted neither to bite nor scratch. Do I really look terrible?"

"No, indeed," she laughed, looking him in the eyes, "I am not afraid of you!"

"Ah, Mademoiselle," said Angelescu, "it is when one thinks one's self safest that one is generally in the greatest danger. I was never so sure of myself as the day I fell hopelessly in love; I had the folly to think myself woman-proof, you see, and I fell!"

"So you are married, then," said Ragna.

"No, for after all she would have none of me!"

They all joined in a laugh at this, and Ragna said: "Your sermon loses its point, oh Preacher!"

So the luncheon-hour passed amid jest and laughter and they strolled out to the deck where comfortable chairs awaited them under the canvas awning. The Norje was passing the islands of the Elbe—the Vierländer, and Prince Mirko made much fun of the quaint dress of the peasant women with their awkward hats, stiff ribbons and clumsy petticoats.

Ragna described to him the dress of the women about her home, and was led on to talk of the many ancient customs of the country people, now fallen into disuse,