ers to carry out my ideas rather than endeavouring to shine as a diplomatist myself. The purser--the only official aware of the change--thinks you made a bet to go over steerage, and will probably forget all about the matter. The question is, under what name shall I introduce you to the doctor?"
"What would you advise?" asked Hazel. "The name on my steerage ticket is William Jones."
"Oh, that's no good as a nom de guerre--too palpably a name chosen by an unimaginative man. I should sail under your own colours if I were you."
"Good! Then John Hazel I am, and so will remain. As a guarantee of good faith, I promise you not to touch a card all the way across."
"A good resolution; see that you keep it." And thus they enjoyed an appetising lunch together, and were regaled with one of the doctor's best salads.
They got away from Cherbourg before the dinner hour, and after that meal Stranleigh and Hazel walked together on the main deck, until the latter, admitting he was ra