Cowes week was drawing near to its brilliant climax. Through the blue
waters of the Solent a swarm of palatial steam yachts, saucy outriggers,
graceful cutters and wasp-like motor boats jostled one another in their
efforts to gain safe anchorage after the strenuous excitement of the
day's racing. Everywhere could be heard the clank of mooring chains,
mingled with the full-flavoured oaths of sailor men.
Gradually silence fell upon the scene, broken only by the melodious
murmur of numberless gramophones and the soft strains of the band of the
Royal Yacht Squadron.
As the sun descended lower beneath the horizon the dusk deepened, and
presently thousands of Chinese lanterns twinkled through the gloom from
mast and yard-arm. Lady Margaret Tamerton, leaning idly against the
barnacle of her brother's yacht, the _Seamaid_, drank in the beauty of
the night with deep inhalations.
The voice of young Lord Tamerton at her side at last broke the spell of
silence.
"Madge," he said softly, "Wonderson has not yet arrived. If he doesn't
come, our chances of winning the Island Cup to-morrow are practically
hopeless."
"Don't worry, Fred," replied Lady Margaret. "Ralph never fails....
Listen, he is coming now."
And, indeed, the muffled beat of oars was heard approaching from the
darkness. Soon a slim white boat came gliding up to the prow of the
_Seamaid_. Ralph Wonderson, a tall athletic figure in his immaculate
flannels and straw boater, poised himself on the gunwale, gathered
himself for a spring, and leaped with the agility of a cat to the
bowsprit of the yacht. Sliding rapidly down this, he nodded easily to
Lord Tamerton and clasped the beautiful figure of Lady Margaret in his
arms.
"S-sh!" he whispered warningly, laying his fingers on her lips, as she
would have spoken. "Nobody must know I am here till to-morrow. That is
why I came aboard like that. Listen. Your cousin, Sir Ernest Scrivener,
_alias_ Marmaduke Moorsdyke, is here, and is plotting to kidnap you.
There is a traitor somewhere on this yacht who supplies him with all
information. The attempt is to be made to-night."
"To-night!" murmured Lady Margaret in horror. "What am I to do? His
ingenuity is dev--er--fiendish."
"It shall be baffled," replied Ralph reassuringly. "I have thought it
all out. It would be dangerous for you to leave the yacht because, in
view of to-morrow's race, neither your brother nor I could accompany
you. There is only one place on board where you can pass the night in
assured safety--the crow's-nest."
"The crow's-nest," repeated Lady Margaret, clapping her hands. "What
fun! I shall be rocked to sleep beautifully, and of _course_ they will
never think of looking for me there."
"Come," said Ralph, taking her hand. "There is no time to lose, and none
of the crew must be allowed to see you. We don't know whom we can
trust."
Snatching her in his arms, he carried her easily up the frail rigging,
his mountain training showing in every step he took. Five minutes later
he returned alone and dropped noiselessly to the deck. He looked round
cautiously; there was nobody in view except Lord Tamerton.
"It's all right, Fred," he whispered. "Let us turn in."
They descended the broad staircase arm-in-arm. No sooner had they
disappeared than a dark figure crept with a low chuckle from underneath
a coil of rope and dropped silently over the yacht's counter.
A phosphorescent gleam disturbed the darkness of the water.
***
Early next morning Ralph Wonderson ran nimbly up the rigging of the
_Seamaid_, carrying a tray loaded with toast, eggs, tea and marmalade.
He tapped at the door of the crow's-nest. There was no response. After a
pause he tapped again and cautiously pushed open the door. The
crow's-nest was empty!
"Betrayed," cried Ralph, clapping his hand to his forehead. A moment
later two soft-boiled eggs devastated the snowy whiteness of the
_Seamaid's_ deck.
Despite their precautions, Lady Margaret had been spirited away during
the night. As soon as he had recovered from the shock of the discovery,
Ralph ran to Lord Tamerton and acquainted him with the terrible news.
There was a period of agonised and fruitless discussion.
"Wait! I have an idea," exclaimed Ralph presently. He pressed an
electric bell, and a steward appeared almost simultaneously.
"Jenkins, fetch me a race card," said Ralph.
"Yes, Sir," replied the steward. "I anticipated your request and have it
here."
Ralph and Lord Tamerton bent their heads over the card.
"See," said the former. "It is as I hoped. Among the entries for the
Island Cup we have the _Watersnake_, owner Sir Ernest Scrivener. He will
sail her himself, that is certain. It is equally certain that he has
Madge on board. If I know anything of him he will not let her out of his
sight. Fred, by yonder centreboard I swear that before the race is over
we will win her back."
_Bang!_ It was the signal for the competitors to line up for the great
race for the world-famous Island Cup.
***
Of all the thousands who pressed themselves against the straining booms
none realised that the race was for a prize far more precious than a
mere cup of gold valued at two thousand guineas.
The _Watersnake_ was in front, a clear hundred yards separating her from
the pursuing _Seamaid_. All the other yachts lagged hopelessly in the
rear.
Scattering the foam at their bows, the two boats rushed along the blue
lane of clear water which lay between the booms. Ralph, at the wheel of
the _Seamaid_, gazed anxiously forward. Could they do it?
"Let loose the spinnaker," he commanded gruffly. "Haul on the signal
halyard. Lower the keelson."
The orders were swiftly executed, and the _Seamaid_ leaped forward with
a bound. The distance between the two vessels rapidly lessened.
"Fred," said Ralph, "you must take the wheel for a time. I'm going
forward to board the _Watersnake_."
Lord Tamerton obediently grasped the wheel, while Ralph ran forward and
crept along the bowsprit. The intervening space was now very small.
Bracing himself for the effort, he shot through the air and landed upon
the deck of the _Watersnake_. The first object which met his gaze was
Lady Margaret, her wrists bound, lying beside the barnacle.
Sir Ernest Scrivener uttered a horrible oath as he recognised the
features of his successful rival. For an instant he loosened his grasp
on the wheel. The vessel yawed in her course and he was compelled to
seize the spokes again.
***
Before Scrivener could command his wits sufficiently to shout an order
to his crew, Ralph had caught up Lady Margaret in his arms and dashed to
the side of the vessel. Deprived of his skilled command, the _Seamaid_
had dropped behind; it was impossible to leap back to her decks.
Without hesitation, Ralph dived into the water, and still supporting the
now unconscious form of Lady Margaret, swam rapidly towards the yacht.
Two minutes later he was gripping the wheel and concentrating all his
immense will power upon the task of winning the race.
Inch by inch the _Seamaid_ crept up to her rival. Despite all
Scrivener's efforts, the gap grew less and less.
And now the winning post was close at hand. Could it be done? Could it
be done? The frantic spectators behind the boom shouted themselves
hoarse. Lord Tamerton bit his thumbs till the blood ran.
Nearer drew the _Seamaid_. Nearer and nearer. Nearer still. At the
critical moment, Ralph, with a mighty effort, pushed down the wheel.
A bare three inches parted the _Watersnake_ from the winning post when
the slight shudder ran through her which told that the prow of the
_Seamaid_ had touched her stern. The bump had been made; the race was
won.
***
Ralph Wonderson stood with the magnificent Island Cup in his hand,
filled to the brim with bubbling champagne.
"To the restoration of the fortunes of the house of Tamerton," he said
as he raised it to his lips.
* * * * *
Illustration: _The Turkey Buzzard_ (_to the Sea Eagle_). "You may call
yourself a Turkey Buzzard if you like, but they'll still know you by
your white feather."
* * * * *