h his bundles and packs, desired to leave the ship. The men screamed, the women cried, the children whimpered, the captain and sailors cursed and swore. The police swung their clubs. It was a dreadful chaos, in which Lambert's anxious glances were ever peering about for the poor girl who was looking on the tumult which was roaring around her, so lonely, so forsaken, so still and patient. As he saw her form again emerge, now on the forward part of the deck, he held back no longer. Without further thought, with a mighty spring from the edge of the quay, he swung himself aboard of the ship and hastened to the point where he had last seen her. He knew not why he did this. He had no conception of what he should say to the maiden when he should reach her. It seemed as though he was drawn by unseen hands, which it was impossible for him to resist, and to whose guidance he willingly committed himself.
After he had approached her, lost sight of her, feared at last that he should not again find her, he suddenly