After dinner Harold went back to his cabin; locking himself in, he lay down on the sofa.  The gloom of his great sorrow was heavy on him; the reaction from the excitement of the morning had come.  
He was recalled to himself by a gentle tapping.  Unlocking and opening the door he saw Mr. Stonehouse, who said with trouble in his voice:
 
‘I came to you on account of my little child.’  There he stopped with a break in his voice.  Harold, with intent to set his mind at ease and to stave off further expressions of gratitude, replied:
 
‘Oh, pray don’t say anything.  I am only too glad that I was privileged to be of service.  I only trust that the dear little girl is no worse for her—her adventure!’
 
‘That is why I am here,’ said the father quickly.  ‘My wife and I are loth to trouble you.  But the poor little thing has worked herself into a paroxysm of fright and is calling for you.  We have tried in vain to comfort or reassure her.  She will not be satisfied without you.  She keeps calling on “The Man” to come and help her.  I am loth to put you to further strain after all you have gone through to-day; but if you would come—’  Harold was already in the passage as he spoke:
 
‘Of course I’m coming.  If I can in any way help it is both a pleasure and a duty to be with her.’  Turning to the father he added:
 
‘She is indeed a very sweet and good child.  I shall never forget how she bore herself whilst we waited for aid to come.’
 
‘You must tell her mother and me all about it,’ said the father; much moved.
 
When they came close to the Stonehouses’ suite of rooms they heard Pearl’s voice rising with a pitiful note of fear:
 
‘Where is The Man?  Oh! where is The Man?  Why doesn’t he come to me?  He can save me!  I want to be with The Man!’  When the door opened and she saw him she gave shriek of delight, and springing from the arms of her mother fairly leaped into Harold’s arms which were outstretched to receive her.  She clung to him and kissed him again and again, rubbing her little hands all over his face as though to prove to herself that he was real and not a dream.  Then with a sigh she laid her head on his breast, the reaction of sleep coming all at once to her.  With a gesture of silence Harold sat down, holding the child in his arms.  Her mother laid a thick shawl over and sat down close to Harold.  Mr. Stonehouse stood quiet in the doorway with the child’s nurse peering anxiously over his shoulder.
 
After a little while, when he thought she was asleep, Harold rose and began to place her gently in the bunk.  But the moment he did so she waked with a scream.  The fright in her eyes was terrible.  She clung to him, moaning and crying out between her sobs:
 
‘Don’t leave me!  Don’t leave me!  Don’t leave me!’  Harold was much moved and held the little thing tight in his strong arms, saying to her:
 
‘No darling!  I shan’t leave you!  Look in my eyes, dear, and I will promise you, and then you will be happy.  Won’t you?’
 
She looked quickly up in his face.  Then she kissed him lovingly, and rested her head, but not sleepily this time, on his breast said:
 
‘Yes!  I’m not afraid now!  I’m going to stay with The Man!’  Presently Mrs. Stonehouse, who had been thinking of ways and means, and of the comfort of the strange man who had been so good to her child, said:
 
‘You will sleep with mother to-night, darling.  Mr. . . . The Man,’ she said this with an appealing look of apology to Harold, ‘The Man will stay by you till you are asleep . . . ’  But she interrupted, not fretfull............