Before the sun set they were sighted by the cruiser returning to her
anchorage outside the little fishing-harbour. Mab, worn out by hunger and
exposure, had slipped back to her former position in the bottom of the
boat. She was half asleep and seemed dazed when Merefleet told her of
their approaching deliverance. But she clung fast to him when a boat from
the cruiser came alongside; and he lifted her into it himself.
"By Jove, sir, you've had a bad time!" said a young officer in the boat.
"Thirty hours," said Merefleet briefly.
He kept his arm about the girl, though his brain swam dizzily. And Mab,
consciously or unconsciously, held his hand in a tight clasp.
Merefleet felt as if she were definitely removed out of his reach when
she was lifted from his hold at length, and the impression remained with
him after he gained the cruiser's deck. He met with most courteous
solicitude on all sides and was soon on the high-road to recovery.
Later in the evening, when Mab also was sufficiently restored to appear
on deck, the cruiser steamed into Silverstrand Harbour, and the two
voyagers were landed by one of her boats, in the midst of great rejoicing
on the quay.
Seton, who had long since returned from a fruitless search for tidings,
was among the crowd of spectators. He said little by way of greeting,
and there was considerable strain apparent in his manner towards
Merefleet. He hurried his cousin back to the hotel with a haste not
wholly bred of the moment's expediency. Merefleet followed at a more
leisurely pace. He made no attempt to join them, however. He had done his
part. There remained no more to do. With a heavy sense of irrevocable
loss he went to bed and slept the dreamless sleep of exhaustion for many
hours.
The adventure was over. It had ended with a tameness that gave it an
almost commonplace aspect. But Merefleet's resolution was of stout
manufacture.
The consequences of that night and day of peril involved his whole
future. Merefleet recognised this and resolved to act forthwith, in
defiance of Seton or any other obstacle. He did not realise till later
that there was opposed to him a strength which even his will was
powerless to overcome. He did not even take the possibility of this
into consideration.
He was very sure of himself and confident of success when he descended
late on the following morning to a solitary breakfast--sure of himself,
sure of the smile of that fickle goddess Fortune--sure, thrice sure, of
the woman he loved.
And he watched for her coming with a rapture that deprived him of his
appetite.
But Mab did not come.
Instead, Herbert Seton presently strolled into the room, greeted him, and
paused by his table.
"Be good enough to join me on the terrace presently, will you?" he said
abruptly.
And Merefleet nodded with a chill sense of foreboding. But his resolution
was unalterable. This young man should not, he was determined, by any
means cheat him now of his heart's desire. Matters had gone too far for
that. He followed Seton almost at once and found him in a quiet corner,
smoking. Merefleet sat down beside him and also began to smoke. There was
a touch of hostility about Seton that he was determined to ignore.
"Well," said Seton at length, with characteristic bluntness, "so you have
done it in spite of my warning the other night."
Merefleet looked at him. Was he expected to render an account of his
doings to this man who was at least ten years his junior, he wondered,
with faint amusement?
Seton went on with strong indignation.
"I told you in the first place not to be too intimate with her. I told
you again two nights ago that she was not free to accept any man's
attentions. But you went on. And you have made her miserable simply for
the gratification of your own unreasonable fancy. Do you call that manly
behaviour, I wonder?"
Merefleet sat in absolute silence for several seconds. Finally he wheeled
round in his chair and faced Seton.
"If I were you," he said quietly, "I should postpone this interview for
half-an-hour. I think you may possibly regret it if you don't."
Seton tossed away a half-smoked cigarette and rose.
"In half-an-hour," he said, "I shall have left this place, and my cousin
with me. I asked to speak to you because I detest all underhand dealings.
You apparently have not the same scruples."
Merefleet also rose.
"You will apologise for that," he said, in a tone of conviction. "I don't
question your motives, but to fetch me out here and then insult me was
not a wise proceeding on your part."
Seton's hand clenched involuntarily. But he had put himself in the wrong,
and he knew it.
"Very well," he said at length, with a shrug. "I apologise for the
expression. But my opinion of you remains unaltered."
Merefleet ignored the qualification. He was bent on something more
important than the satisfaction of his own personal honour. "And now," he
said, with deliberate purpose, "I am going to have a private interview
with your cousin."
Seton started.
"You are going to do nothing of the sort," he said instantly.
Merefleet looked him over gravely.
"Look here, Seton!" he said. "You're making a fool of yourself. Take a
friend's advice--don't!"
Seton choked back his anger with a great effort. In spite of this there
was a passionate ring in his voice when he spoke that betrayed the
exceeding precariousness of his self-control.
"I can't let you see her," he said. "She is upset enough already. I have
promised her that she shall not be worried."
"Have you promised her to keep me from speaking to her?" Merefleet grimly
enquired.
"No." Seton spoke reluctantly.
"Then do this," said Merefleet. "Go to her and ask her if she will see me
alone. If she says 'No,' I give you my word that I will leave this place
and trouble neither of you any further."
Seton seemed to hesitate, but Merefleet was sure of his acquiescence.
After a pause of several seconds he fulfilled his expectations and went.
Merefleet sat down again and waited. Seton returned heavy-footed.
"She will see you," he said curtly. "You will find her in the
billiard-room."
"Alone?" said Merefleet, rising.
"Alone."
And Merefleet walked away.