“A few of us have been talking about you, Anstruther, and we cannot be far wrong in assuming that you are hard up.  The fact that you took a steward’s job on the Sirdar shows your disinclination to appeal to your own people for funds.  Now, once you are ashore, you will be landed in difficulties.  To cut any further explanations, I am commissioned to offer you a loan of fifty pounds, which you can repay when you like.”

Robert’s mouth tightened somewhat.  For the moment he could not find words.  Playdon feared he was offended.

“I am sorry, old chap, if we are mistaken,” he said hesitatingly; “but we really thought—­”

“Please do not endeavor to explain away your generous act,” exclaimed Anstruther.  “I accept it thankfully, on one condition.”

“Blow the condition.  But what is it?”

“That you tell me the names of those to whom I am indebted besides yourself.”

“Oh, that is easy enough.  Fitzroy and the first luff are the others.  We kept it to a small circle, don’t you know.  Thought you would prefer that.”

Anstruther smiled and wrung his hand.  There were some good fellows left in the world after all.  The three officers acted in pure good nature.  They were assisting a man apparently down in his luck, who would soon be called on to face other difficulties by reason of his engagement to a girl apparently so far removed from him in station.  And the last thing they dreamed of was that their kindly loan was destined to yield them a better return than all the years of their naval service, for their fifty pounds had gone into the pocket of a potential millionaire, who was endowed with the faculty, rare in millionaires, of not forgetting the friends of his poverty-stricken days.

CHAPTER XVII

RAINBOW ISLAND AGAIN—­AND AFTERWARD

Sir Arthur Deane was sitting alone in his cabin in a state of deep dejection, when he was aroused by a knock, and Robert entered.

“Can you give me half an hour?” he asked.  “I have something to say to you before we land.”

The shipowner silently motioned him to a seat.

“It concerns Iris and myself,” continued Anstruther.  “I gathered from your words when we met on the island that both you and Lord Ventnor regarded Iris as his lordship’s promised bride.  From your point of view the arrangement was perhaps natural and equitable, but since your daughter left Hong Kong it happens that she and I have fallen in love with each other.  No; please listen to me.  I am not here to urge my claims on you.  I won her fairly and intend to keep her, were the whole House of Peers opposed to me.  At this moment I want to tell you, her father, why she could never, even under other circumstances, marry Lord Ventnor.”