Saltash turned with his companion.  “And now we are going to supper at The Anchor.  I must get Mrs. Bolton to lead the way.  Poor Jake is bored to the soul, but he’s facing it like a man.  Fine fellow—­Jake.”

“Oh, is he a friend of yours?” Sheila asked.  “A very particular friend, I mean?”

Saltash grimaced to the stars.  “No, I don’t think so.  Ask Jake!  He knows me better than some, that’s all.  And I know him.”

They left the yacht’s rail and joined the on-coming throng.  It was like a scene out of a fairy tale—­the gaudy Chinese lanterns bobbing to and fro, the gaily-coloured crowd, the shining white yacht rocking gently on the noiseless swell.  Everyone was laughing.  Some were singing.  There was not a serious face to be seen in all the crowd that poured over the red-carpeted gangway from the quay.

“Where is Toby?” said Maud.

She was standing with Jake in the many-hued glow of the lanterns, and she asked the question with a momentary anxiety, for she had looked in vain for Toby for some time.

“She’s with Bunny.  She’s safe enough,” said Jake.

“But they haven’t come on board yet, and they’ve been gone so long,” Maud said.  “It’s curious how little Captain Larpent seems to interest himself in her doings.”

“Mighty curious,” agreed Jake.

For Larpent had kept to the bridge morosely, almost throughout the evening.  He was standing there now, looking down upon the shifting, chattering crowd.  He had no idea how long it would be before Saltash tired of the game and gave orders to set sail.  He waited in dumb endurance—­as he would wait from day to day until the longed-for moment arrived.  It had happened often before, Saltash’s caprice had sometimes driven him to the verge of rebellion, but no one—­not even Saltash himself—­ever suspected it.  Silent, phlegmatic, inexpressive, Larpent held on his undeviating course.

Maud’s attention did not linger upon him.  No one—­save perhaps Saltash—­ever paid much attention to Larpent.  She turned back to watch the now empty gangway, and in a moment she gave an exclamation of relief.

“Ah!  Here they come at last!”

A laughing voice spoke behind her.  “Enter Cinderella and the Prince!”

She started and saw Saltash’s swarthy face close to her.  His odd eyes looked into hers with a flash of mischief.

“See how all my plans bear fruit!” he said.  “I wave my wand, and you behold the result.”

She turned from him to look again upon the advancing couple.  They were crossing the gangway alone.  Toby, slim, girlish, her wide blue eyes shining like the eyes of an awakened child, Bunny close behind her, touching her, his hand actually on her shoulder, possession and protection in every line of him.  He was murmuring into her ear as they came, and his face was alight with the glory which no earthly lamp can kindle.

“Behold!” Saltash said again, and moved forward in his sudden fashion to receive them.