On the steamer they were, as Richard had predicted, all Japanese. Not only the crew and attendants, but many of the passengers showed the dark skin and straight hair of the race to the west. There were Chinese, too, and strange foreign faces that Richard More did not know. A few Americans were on board—bound on business or pleasure to China and Japan—but the majority of the passengers were of alien race.

Richard More and his wife sat day after day in their steamer-chairs, looking out to sea and watching the strange faces drift between them and the horizon line.... They came and went, dreamlike and vague.... Now a face would silhouette itself on the sky, turbaned and dark and motionless against the approaching west; and now gesticulating hands moved swiftly, and sharp staccatoed words flitted by them along the deck. They were in a foreign world, a cosmopolite world—a restless, moving strangeness of life.... It was not possible not to feel, deep underneath, the common tie of race or nation that made them one.... Only a boat moving to the west—and the faces moving with it.

The courier left them at the dock at San Francisco. Eleanor caught a glimpse of his face among the crowd as the boat moved out.

“There he is!” she cried to Richard, her hand on his arm and her eyes searching the dock. Then the crowd jostled—and the face was gone. There were many dark faces along the dock’s edge, watching the boat recede, and she could not see that one was more familiar than another.

She had come to fancy on the journey that she knew the courier a little; but now she saw that she had known only his strangeness; there were dozens like him, and he was merged in the deeper alienism of his race.

He was replaced by a Chinese interpreter who was to act as guide for the rest of the journey. Richard More, searching for a courier who was familiar with the languages and dialects of the different provinces of China, had come upon Kou Ying, who was contemplating a journey home. For a consideration, he was willing to go with them into the interior and to remain with them as long as they wished.

Eleanor had seen him only at a distance, leaning against the rail and looking out to sea, or rolling a cigarette with slow lingering touch in his yellow hands extending from the wide, silken sleeves.

She fancied, once or twice, that a glance from the oblique eyes rested on her with slow intentness. But when she looked again she saw that the glance was vacant of meaning and that it slipped past her and gazed out along the pathless sea to the west.

“I cannot make him out!” she said to Richard.

“Don’t you like him?” he demanded. “We will exchange him at Shanghai. There are always plenty to be had, I understand. But I thought the man seemed intelligent—and the boat gives us a little chance to get acquainted.”

He looked at her keenly. “We don’t need to keep him, you know.”

She wrinkled her eyes in a little perplexity, gazing at the figure that stood well to the front of the boat.... His back was turned to them and the wind blowing against the boat filled the blue coat and trousers like little balloons. One could fancy the thin yellow legs inside the balloons, holding like grim little steel pipes to the deck. There was a wiry strength in the man and a kind of gripping forcefulness that went oddly with the placid face and slow figure.

“I don’t know what it is,” she said slowly. “I do not dislike him. But he makes me feel as if the world were queer—a little topsy-turvy, I think—almost as if I saw a pine-tree lift its roots out of the ground and go skipping along the grass!” Her husband laughed out. “Kou Ying doesn’t skip much!”

“No.... His soul skips!”

“All the better for us, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps—” Her eyes brooded on the ballooning little figure, anchored to the deck.

“No—Don’t send him away!” She shook her head with decision.

“Well, I’m glad you like him. I fancy he’s going to be pretty useful to us later on.”

He got up and strolled over to the man, and Eleanor More watched the two figures side by side—the tall, well-built American and the thin little figure of steel in its swelling, puffed-out garments.

Presently they moved along the deck and passed out of sight. When they reappeared, at the other end of the boat, Eleanor was lying half-asleep, her eyes closed and her face very quiet.

She opened her eyes, as they came up.

The oblique gaze was looking down on her out of an impassive face. She smiled dreamily.... Now she understood. The man was journeying too.

“This is Kou Ying,” said Richard casually.

The Oriental made a gesture of service... and the pine-tree danced hazily before Eleanor’s eyes. She smiled a little.

“You are going with us?” she asked.

The stolid face had not changed. But something, far back in the eyes, responded to the smile.

“As long as you need me, madam,” said the man courteously.

“We are looking for a coat,” said Richard.

“Hadn’t you told him?” asked Eleanor, a little astonished. She sat up in her chair.

“No. I waited—to be sure.”

The Chinese eyes regarded him, incurious and quiet.

“We saw a coat, several years ago,” said Richard, addressing them. “A coat that we should like to find—or one like it.”

“A mandarin coat?” asked the man quietly.

“No-o—I don’t think so. It was longer——”

“Blue, with gold things on it—Dragons,” said Eleanor eagerly, “and marks down the front like this—” She drew a few lines on the paper beside her.

“Ah—!” The man’s breath gave a little whistling sound....

“That is a very old coat,” he said softly. “Hundreds of years—very, very old.”

His face took on a strange, removed look. “It will be difficult to find—I am afraid.”

He spoke the words with a clear, clipping sound, and looked out to the west, steadying himself to the motion of the boat.

“There are not many chances of finding it,” he said at last with grave accent. “But I will help you—if I can.”

“We are depending on you,” said Richard More.

The man bowed and walked away.

After that Eleanor saw him often, mingling with the different groups of Chinamen on the deck and talking and laughing with easy familiarity.

“He is making inquiries,” said Richard. “He tells me there are people on board from nearly every province in China. He may find a clew before we leave the boat.”

It might have been only imagination on Eleanor’s part that the groups of Chinamen began to regard her with interest. As they passed her chair, she would fancy for a moment she caught a gleam in the opaque black eyes.... Then, as she looked, it was gone.... A group of them, by the ship’s rail, talking in clear staccato tones, would give her a sudden sense that she was closely concerned in what they were saying. But when she looked, the stolid faces were as impassive as the long black queues depending from each round hat almost to the ship’s deck and responding in oblique black lines to the attraction of gravity—as the boat moved up and down.... After a time she ceased to think of them. She sat in her chair, day after day, with half-closed eyes, watching the faces drift past and the water beyond the ship’s rail rise and fall.

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