“He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. Then I assumed a rather portentous manner to prepare him. Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go beyond her depth because of the sharks. " "How did you escape?" asked Sheppard, who, as he shook off his slumber, began to recall the events of the previous night.
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