Madame Gilbert watched the yawl fly through the slack water towards the bar, and heave and pitch in the swell. Willie took her over as a skilful rider lifts a horse over a gate, and slid away into the distant recesses of the bay.
She turned to Ching, who stood silent at her side.
"There is something hidden," said she. "Something that we do not know. One does not all at once become so fond of drink. What is that something, Captain Ching?"
Ching shook his head. He did not know. If Alexander had been present, I do not think that he would have shaken his head. He might not have known more than was vouchsafed to Ching, but he would, at least, have put up a guess. Alexander, the circumspectious man, did not lightly confess to being baffled.
Willie moored the yawl at the head of the bay, and went ashore in the collapsible boat. On the edge of the beach he met Marie, who, in the absence of the terrible Madame Gilbert, had gained courage.
"My lord has been a long time gone," whispered she, regarding him sideways with the eyes that bit. "Marie has missed you very much."
"You will not miss me any more," said Willie. He kissed her—it was the salute of the seigneur to the beautiful white slave—and with his arm about her waist walked slowly towards the woods.