A GENTLEMAN'S PROMISE
Roy and Ethel stood by the rail on the yacht's deck as the tender drew
alongside. They were filled with anxiety over the results of the search
upon the shore. Dismay touched them when they saw the cap that Van Dusen
carried in his hand as they stepped forward. Ethel's cheek blanched, but
she asked no question; only stood waiting while the detective stepped
aside with Roy and gave him Garnet's note. The young man hastily read
the message. For a moment, he mused as if in doubt concerning its
significance; then he asked:
"Do you think that he made the crossing in safety?"
"I think not," was the reply. "Captain Ichabod went through the channel
to the other side. He looked everywhere for signs of Garnet's having
continued on up the beach, but the search was fruitless. I have an idea
that the Doctor, in his weakened condition, was unable to breast the
tide, and so was carried out to sea. To my mind, it seems, perhaps, the
best ending for that drug-crazed man. At the same time, I confess I'm
heartily sorry for the fellow. Had there been any way to get him clear
of the charges it would have been necessary for him to face, I for one
would have been willing to go to any length to save him, to get him away
to some place where he was not known and could begin life anew."
Roy showed the note to Ethel, and explained how the evidence seemed to
indicate that the physician was dead. The girl listened quietly, but
when her lover had made an end, she turned quickly and went away to her
stateroom, to be alone with her grief.
During Ethel's absence the yacht was got under way for Beaufort. Van
Dusen and Ichabod restored their energies by a hearty meal. By the time
the moon had risen, the party of four were gathered aft, talking
together quietly, and enjoying the beauties in the panorama of sea and
shore and sky unfolded by the yacht's progress. There was rapture in the
hearts of both lovers in this reunion after so great trials. Each of
them had sailed over these waters in an agony of grief and fear while
they were separated from each other. Now, they were once again together.
The fear and the peril were things of the past. For the present, there
was only joy, a joy that would endure for the days to come.
Van Dusen explained to the others how he had extended an invitation to
Ichabod to make use of the yacht for his honeymoon-trip. Ethel was
astonished and delighted to learn of the old fisherman's romance and his
intended bridal on the morrow.
"But, do you know," she exclaimed with a smile, to Captain Jones, "I
supposed, of course, you were married, and had grandchildren?"
"Not me!" the old man answered, unabashed. "But I do aim to!"
Van Dusen further explained that the only thing now wanting was the
consent of the bride herself to the plans. He then spoke again of the
reward to be paid to Ichabod. Roy declared that this should be made out
immediately. Once again, Captain Icky protested against the payment, but
without much heart in his objections, and finally, after mumbling
something as to the time lost from his fishing, he consented to receive
the amount. But on a condition. He stipulated that the check should be
made out to Sarah Porter, and that in the left-hand corner there should
be written the words:
"In lieu of all other pre-nuptals."
The fisherman gave it as his positive opinion that this would clinch the
matter for the following day.
"Anyhow," he added grimly, "if it don't, I'll be dogged if she gits it!"
When the yacht reached Beaufort, the party went ashore, for it had been
decided that Ethel should be cared for at the Inlet Hotel, where, if
need be, she might prove of service in persuading Sarah into meeting the
ardent Ichabod's wishes.
The hostess greeted the girl warmly, and fussed over her with a maternal
solicitude that promised well for the fisherman's hopes in the matter of
grandchildren. Then, when she had seen her guest comfortably installed,
Sarah returned to the porch, where Ichabod, armed with the check, was
anxiously awaiting her.
"Oh," she exclaimed tenderly, "I'm so glad you have returned safely!
I've really worried about you. I was afraid that dreadful man might do
something terrible if you came upon him unexpectedly."
"No, sir," was the spirited retort; "there ain't nothin' kin git me now
but you!"
The gallant remark so pleased the spinster that she patted his hand
affectionately, as they sat down side by side on a porch settee.
Ichabod braced himself for the encounter. He felt that there was to be
no shilly-shally now. Moreover, his backbone was amazingly stiffened by
the five-thousand-dollar check. He meant business! Besides, it would
never do to disappoint his new friends. He was going to make that
honeymoon-trip, or "bust!"
"Sarah," he began, "do ye remember as how in the old days I was always
said to be a man o' very few words?"
"Why, yes, Ichabod," Sarah agreed--perhaps a little doubtful, "come to
think about it I believe you were. But what's agitating of you to-night?
There seems to be something heavy-like on your mind."
"Thar is, Sary--somethin' mighty big an' I reckin as how you'll think it
sudden. But that's the only way to do--jest speak right plumb out an'
have it over."
His hearer paled slightly. She had a horrid suspicion that her lover had
backslidden, that he meant to return to his hermit life on the Island,
and was here now to jilt her.
"Of course, ye understand that me an' you are promised to wed?" Ichabod
went on.
"Yes," came the faltered response.
"Wall, thar ain't but one thing now as I see it that is a-standin' in
the way, an' that is them-thar pre-nuptals you mentioned when I wanted
to hurry things a leetle. Now, what I'm a-comin' to is this: I'm mighty
well aware that them things takes time an' costs money. In lieu o' them
as the lawyers say I'm servin' ye with this"--he extended the
check--"an' we'll fix the hull thing up in the mornin', an' sail no'th
in the evenin' on my New York friend's yacht, for our after-nuptals.
But, consarn ye! thar's jest one other condition: Sure as shootin',
ye'll have to pay our way back!"
Sarah took the check to the light. She gasped as she read the four
figures. There was awe in her voice as she pronounced the words aloud:
"Five-thousand dollars!"
Then, after a moment, she questioned seriously:
"Ichabod, are ye goin' to build the addition on the hotel besides?"
The old fisherman nodded emphatically.
"That," he stoutly declared, "was a gentleman's promise!"
Sarah capitulated.
"Ichabod Jones, I ought to call you a triflin' rascal for starting in to
scare me like you've done. Anyhow, I jest can't make it earlier than
eleven-thirty. Will that do?"
The fisherman's reply was to take Sarah in his arms. Roy and Van Dusen
in the hotel lobby hailed the smack that followed as a signal of the
wooer's success.