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blooded girl could mistake, and the fact that he had subdued his passion spoke

eloquently to the girl of the fineness and chivalry of his nature, so now it was with

a feeling of utter trustfulness that she gladly gave herself into the keeping of

Henri Theriere, Count de Cadenet, Second Officer of the Halfmoon.

"O Mr. Theriere," she cried, "if you only can but arrange it so, how relieved and

almost happy I shall be. How can I ever repay you for all that you have done for

me?"

Again she saw the light leap to the man's eyes--the light of a love that would not

be denied much longer other than through the agency of a mighty will. Love she

thought it; but the eye-light of love and lust are twin lights between which it takes

much worldly wisdom to differentiate, and Barbara Harding was not worldly-wise

in the ways of sin.

Miss Harding," said Theriere, in a voice that he evidently found it difficult to

control, "do not ask me now how you may repay me; I--;" but what he would have

said he checked, and with an effort of will that was almost appreciable to the eye

he took a fresh grip upon himself, and continued: "I am amply repaid by being

able to serve you, and thus to retrieve myself in your estimation--I know that you

have doubted me; that you have questioned the integrity of my acts that helped to

lead up to the unfortunate affair of the Lotus. When you tell me that you no

longer doubt--that you accept me as the friend I would wish to be, I shall be more

than amply repaid for anything which it may have been my good fortune to have

been able to accomplish for your comfort and safety."

Then I may partially repay you at once," exclaimed the girl with a smile, "for I

can assure you that you possess my friendship to the fullest, and with it, of

course, my entire confidence. It is true that I doubted you at first--I doubted

everyone connected with the Halfmoon. Why shouldn't I? But now I think that I

am able to draw a very clear line between my friends and my enemies. There is

but one upon the right side of that line--you, my friend," and with an impulsive

little gesture Barbara Harding extended her hand to Theriere.

It was with almost a sheepish expression that the Frenchman took the proffered

fingers, for there had been that in the frank avowal of confidence and friendship

which smote upon a chord of honor in the man's soul that had not vibrated in

response to a chivalrous impulse for so many long years that it had near

atrophied from disuse.

Then, of a sudden, the second officer of the Halfmoon straightened to his full

height. His head went high, and he took the small hand of the girl in his own

strong, brown one.

The Mucker