“Bosh, boy!” cried the old man. “Go and sit down.” But there were tears in his eyes nevertheless.
Curtis was here, too.
Curtis came home to find he had succeeded to a baronetcy and another large estate. But this would not have stirred his spirits in the least had not Marie greeted him so joyously.
He used to call her his Marie. In six weeks’ time she was his Marie in reality.
They were married.
Ingomar says he will never marry. I simply smile.
He is owner, anyhow, of one of the most splendid yachts ever built in America or England.
No ’long-shore yacht. Not built for racing or speed, but comfort, pleasure, and beauty. Curtis has left the service. The yacht takes very long, delightful cruises, but wherever she goes with Ingomar, her master, both Arnold Curtis and his sweet wife go along as well.
My story is ended, my tale is told. I have only to say “Good-bye, my boy reader, and God be with us all.”
I trust and hope we’ll meet again another day.