The tiny harbor was crowded with shipping of all sorts, shapes, and sizes, including the guardship, his Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Westphalia's yacht the Hohenzrallas, the English Royal yachts, steam yachts, schooners, cutters, and all the various craft taking part in England's greatest water carnival. Steam launches darted hither and thither, smartly-equipped gigs conveyed gaily-dressed parties from vessel to vessel, while, ashore the little town itself was alive with bunting, and echoed to the strains of almost continuous music.
"Surely you ought to consider yourself a very happy man, Mr. Carne," said Lady Mabel Madderley with a smile, in reply to a speech of the other's. "You won the Derby in June, and to-day you have appropriated the Queen's Cup."
"If such things constitute happiness I suppose I must be in the seventh heaven of delight," answered Carne, as he took another cigarette from his case and lit it. "All the same, I am insatiable enough to desire still greater fortune. When one has set one's heart upon winning something, besides which the Derby and the Queen's Cup are items scarcely worth considering, one is rather apt to feel that Fortune has still much to give."
"I am afraid I do not quite grasp your meaning," she said. But there was a look in her face that told him that, if she did not understand, she could at least make a very good guess. According to the world's reckoning, he was quite the best fish then swimming in the matrimonial pond, and some people, for the past few weeks, had even gone so far as to say that she had hooked him. It could not be denied that he had been paying her unmistakable attention of late.
What answer he would have vouchsafed to her speech it is impossible to say for at that moment their host came along the deck towards them. He carried a note in his hand.
"I have just received a message to say that His Imperial Majesty is going to honor us with a visit," he said, when he reached them. "If I mistake not, that is his launch coming towards us now."
Lady Mabel and Simon Carne rose and accompanied him to the starboard bulwarks. A smart white launch with the Westphalian flag flying at her stern, had left the Royal yacht and was steaming quickly towards them. A few minutes later it had reached the companion ladder, and Lord Tremorden had descended to welcome his Royal guest. When they reached the deck together, his Majesty shook hands with Lady Tremorden, and afterwards with Lady Mabel and Simon Carne.
"I must congratulate you most heartily, Mr. Carne," he said, "on your victory to-day. You gave us an excellent race, and though I had the misfortune to be beaten by thirty seconds, still I have the satisfaction of knowing that the winner was a better boat in every way than my own."
"Your Majesty adds to the sweets of victory by your generous acceptance of defeat," Carne replied "But I must confess that I owe my success in no way to my own ability. The boat was chosen for me by another, and I have not even the satisfaction of saying that I sailed her myself."
"Nevertheless she is your property, and you will go down to posterity famous in yachting annals as the winner of the Queen's Cup in this justly celebrated year."