In the spacious after-cabin, bright with the summer sun which flooded through the open skylights, Margaret was saying almost the last of her good-bys. Clusters and bouquets of flowers, sent by Mr. Cochran, senior, made every shelf and corner gay. Mrs. Cochran and he had made their farewell call and were gone ashore, but Arthur still lingered in the cabin. Beside him stood able seaman David Downes. The young owner of the departing ship was saying to the fair-haired girl:
"I can't stay more than a minute longer. My boat is alongside, and I must get back to my office. I'd like awfully well to go down the Bay with you, but—"
He hesitated, glanced at David and went on with an affectionate smile, which embraced both his friends:
"You may not see your big brother for a year, Miss Margaret. He deserves to have you all to himself to-day."
"Better change your mind and come back in the tug," said David. "This is your ship, you know. And Margaret will love to have you."
She smiled, with lips which slightly trembled, and there was unspoken sadness in her brave eyes, as she told them:
"Indeed I want you both until we have to say good-by. And David has not quite decided to desert us. I am hoping to persuade him yet that he belongs in the Sea Witch. We just can't give him up without trying, to the very last minute. But it is going to make no difference, even if the seas do roll between us three. We can't forget you for a moment, either of you. You two have brought us this great gift and blessing—my two big brothers."
Arthur's gaze was wistful, but he answered brightly:
"And your owner is prouder of his master and of you than he is of his fine ship."
"Not to overlook the mate," exclaimed a hearty voice behind them, and Mr. Becket's head blazed grandly in a patch of sunshine, at the foot of the companion-way. "Beg your pardon, Mr. Cochran, but we are in the stream and your boatman wants to cast off. Any orders, sir?"