And as the signal banner came down, there sounded a clarion note, as if of victory, from the crest of a neighboring sand dune. It was the crowing of Shrimp, still bold to challenge the world.
But Ethel gave no heed to the bird that had been her companion for a time in misfortune. It occurred to her that she ought not to go away from this place in such fashion as to leave Doctor Garnet to worry over her fate, should he return and find her gone. She decided that she would offer her rescuers a sufficient payment to wait throughout the day for his return, before taking their departure.
Now, the boat was putting in at some little distance up the shore. But there could be no doubt that a landing was intended, for the little sail had been lowered, and one of the men was sculling toward the beach with an oar.
In this particular case, the cock crowed, not thrice, but once. Indeed, the single triumphant call was all that was necessary. It was as if the vainglorious fowl was aware that he had been a figure in a tragedy, as had been no other of his kind since the time when Saint Peter made craven denial of his Master.
There was no possibility that Captain Ichabod could be deceived as to the identity of the creature's voice. As the boat drew in toward the shore to investigate the significance of the white flag that had fluttered from the sand dunes and had then so abruptly vanished, the old fisherman, hearing the cock's crow, turned to the detective and Roy Morton, and spoke vehemently:
"Men, did ye hear that? Whar are your ears? I'll jest be John Browned if that wa'n't my ole rooster Shrimp a-crowin'! Why, men, I declare to goodness if it ain't a fact as sure as shootin'. I'd know that bird's hide in the tan-yard with the feathers off. It's him, men—an' if he's thar so is the gal!"
The all-important feature of the chase with Ichabod hitherto had been to find Ethel. Not only on his own account, but for the sake of Roy, whose deep distress aroused his sympathies. Now, however, when he heard his old feathered friend lift up a lusty voice as if in salutation, the fisherman for the time being forgot the graver aspect of their quest. A new emotion dominated him: He must see Shrimp—at once! Forthwith, then, he dropped the sheets, and sculled vigorously toward that part of the beach whence had issued the sound of the crowing.
When the boat grounded, Ichabod excitedly hastened forward, climbing the steep slope of the nearest dune. Roy and Van Dusen followed him, for they believed in the accuracy of the old man's observation that the girl must in truth be somewhere near his pet.
As the three reached a cleared space above the thick growth of bushes about the base and sides of the dune, Uncle Icky, who was some distance in advance of the others, stopped short. He stood for a few seconds in silence, peering intently ahead. Then he cried out in a loud voice:
"Wall, I'll be eternally damned!" He pointed a bony forefinger. "Now, what do you men think o' that? It's him, all right, but, by cracky, the ole devil, as well as myself, has changed consider'ble in his attitude toward the other sex, since last we met! Don't ye see, men, he's a-scratchin' an' a-kityka-dawin' thar fer three hens!"
Both the old man's hearers burst out laughing over this comparison of the rooster's conduct to Ichabod's own, of which they had been given a full account during their voyaging together.
"Wait a minute, folks," he called out as he trotted forward, "till I gits my Shrimp, an' then I'll jine ye!"
Ichabod gave his whistle, so familiar to the rooster, as he walked forward. The feathered ex-alarm clock, now become a gay Lothario, looked up from his pecking and scratching. Then, seeing his old Island companion approaching, Shrimp hurriedly scurried off into the thick growth of bushes, and as he went he issued an authoritative call to the hens to follow, to which they rendered prompt obedience. Ichabod halted, and stared for a moment in dismay. He made no attempt to continue the pursuit. He realized that the old rooster had had a taste of real life, like himself he had come to realize the mistake of living alone on an island of sandy waste, far from the society of the gentler sex. As the old fisherman returned to his companions he spoke gravely:
"Wall, I don't know as how I can blame him. If he's gittin' as much pleasure out o' his new life as I aim to git out o' mine, I don't believe as how he orter be disturbed. He sure was a faithful alarmer, an' I don't see any reason why he shouldn't make a good husband an' father o' a family."
The three now descended to the shore line. They had made their landing in such haste that they had failed to see the little tender lying in the cove a short distance below. Then, presently, the eyes of the three fell on the shack. Roy halted as abruptly as had Ichabod at the sight of Shrimp, though with a vastly more poignant emotion—for in the window he saw the face of the girl he loved. As he saw the smile of recognition and blissful welcoming, he set out on a run for the cabin. A moment later he disappeared within it.
Ichabod and the detective discreetly refrained from following Roy at once. They gave their attention instead to a sailboat that was approaching. They took the newcomer—for the boat had only a single occupant—for a fisherman seeking to win the reward, though they could not understand why he should be coming from the northward. The watchers were still further puzzled when the boat, instead of bearing shoreward, abruptly shifted its course and swung in a wide circle, returning the way it had come. The two men then walked to the tender, which, as it was now low tide, lay fully exposed on the beach. At sight of the shorn propeller, they understood the reason of the interrupted voyage. But they could make no guess as to the whereabouts of Doctor Garnet himself. They waited with feverish impatience for the appearance of Roy, with such information as he should have gathered from Ethel. In the meantime, they kept a sharp lookout all about, in the hope that the physician, being only temporarily absent, might reappear at any moment.
At last, Roy issued from the cabin. He carried a chair in his left hand, while his right arm supported his betrothed. He placed the chair on the shady side of the shack, and tenderly bestowed the girl in it.
Ichabod and Van Dusen came forward. Ethel greeted the detective warmly as an old acquaintance, and thanked him gratefully for the part he had played in the rescue. But she looked with bewilderment on the leathery visage of the fisherman. She was sure she had seen the face of the old man somewhere once before, but she could by no means find a precise recollection of time or place. Then Roy spoke in introduction of Ichabod to her, and explained the mystery.
"This is Captain Ichabod Jones. To him, Ethel, you owe your life. It was he who rescued you from the wreck ofThe Isabel, and faced death himself to do it. To him also we owe our discovery of you here."
Ethel bestowed so radiant a smile on the old fisherman that he fairly thrilled with pleasure.
"You must tell me the whole story some time soon," the girl said, after she had uttered a few phrases of earnest thanks.
"Miss Marion," replied Captain Ichabod, "jest the pullin' o' a poor drowned woman out o' the water arter the waves has laid her right smack at your feet, an' then a-pumpin' a little swallered brine out o' her lungs don't call for no fuss like what you an' Mr. Morton makes over it. It'd be a mighty-sorry human what'd a let you lay thar an' die. That's the way I feel 'bout it. 'S'fur's findin' o' ye here is consarned, that hain't so."
He pointed at Roy as he continued:
"Thar's the feller what found ye, an' if thar's any other thanks a-comin' they'd orter go to an old rooster, what used to live with me. Which flighty bird eloped with you an' that tallow-faced Doctor. His crowin' did the business."
The Captain chuckled.
"An', by cracky, I'm a-thinkin' from what we jest see that he's already got his reward!"
Van Dusen, who had been showing signs of restlessness, now interrupted.
"I have a professional reputation at stake," he declared, a little grimly. "I quite understand that you two lovers are perfectly happy in being thus reunited again. But there still remains a duty to perform. I must catch Garnet. Please, Miss Marion, tell me where he has gone, what his intentions are."
"He is off on a mission of mercy," Ethel replied. "He has gone to get a boat to come back here for me."
She explained in detail concerning the physician's project.
"I expect him back at any minute," she concluded. "If you folks will sit down and wait patiently, your quarry will come to you."
Van Dusen asked some further questions, which the girl answered frankly, to all appearance. The detective was convinced that he had, as she suggested, only to remain in waiting at the shack, to make sure of capturing his man within a few hours. He dismissed his anxiety concerning Garnet, and for the gratification of his curiosity, begged for a full narrative of the events that had happened after Ethel regained consciousness.
The girl did not demur, but told the whole story of her dreadful experiences. The three men sat spellbound as they listened to her dramatic recital. They were thrilled by that climax when in the desolate hut the physician at last made his full confession to the girl.
As Ethel came to the end of her account, Van Dusen addressed Roy with a note of self-gratulation in his voice.
"Now, what do you think, Roy Morton? You remember that night onThe Hialdowhen I gave you my opinion of this affair? You remember, I said that such cases are rare, but that in the end we should find this whole affair to be the work of a drug-crazed man, dominated by a fixed idea—that he must steal this young lady away, and, by force if necessary, make her a sharer with him in a drug orgy. I told you, too, that I did not believe her life or person in any danger whatever, unless through accident. And there's another point: This Doctor Garnet should go to a mad-house, rather than to prison and the electric chair."
The day was drawing to a close now, with the sun hardly an hour high above the trees that lined the western horizon. Uncle Ichabod declared that Garnet should have sent help long before, if he had safely reached Portsmouth. The fisherman gave it as his opinion that the physician must have met with serious trouble on the way, or that he must have deliberately deserted Miss Marion. He further suggested that he and the detective should leave Roy and Ethel for an hour or two, in order to search along the shore for a possible trace of the missing man. But he amended this plan a moment later by advising that Roy should take the girl in the skiff and make sail for the yacht, which was vaguely visible at anchor some miles away. Afterward, a seaman could bring the skiff back for himself and Van Dusen.
This proposal met with ready acceptance by all concerned. The lovers embarked and sailed away while the fisherman and the detectives set forth on their scouting expedition along the shore. But before starting, Ichabod pulled off his shoes and stockings and rolled up his trousers. It was his custom to go barefooted, and he had no mind now to be handicapped in the long tramp by the foolishness of footgear—suited only to town and the presence of Sarah Porter.
As he passed among the dunes, Captain Jones heard once again Shrimp's lusty crowing. He whistled, but the bird remained invisible, only crowed again, with a note that sounded almost derisive in the ears of his old master.
Ichabod grieved a little over the defection of his old friend. Then, quickly, his mood lightened. He would have through the years to come a companion infinitely more desirable.
It was fairly good walking up the shore, so that the two searchers were able to make excellent progress here. Much of the way the waves had pounded the beach until it was hard and level as a floor. But in places the sand was strewn with quantities of sea shells, many of them broken. These troubled Van Dusen a little, even though he wore heavy-soled shoes. He wondered that the barefooted Ichabod experienced no discomfort to all appearance. As a matter of fact, the old fisherman's soles were horny, tough as any leather.
As the two journeyed on, the detective gratified his natural curiosity concerning things round-about by questioning his companion. He was especially interested in the small bands of wild ponies that appeared from time to time. These, like himself, were inquisitive, and often would stand gazing with curious eyes, until the men were within a hundred yards of them, before they would show their heels and go cantering off through the deep sand.
Ichabod, though he answered at length all the questions put to him by the detective, kept up a train of thinking apart. He showed the results of it presently when he spoke.
"Do ye know, Mr. Detective," he began, "I've been a-thinkin' a whole week 'bout that poor cuss what me an' you are a-tryin' to run down? Do ye know, from what that pretty gal says, I don't say as how that feller orter go to a jail house? Thar's a heap o' good left in that man yit. Jest think what he done out thar in the Sound a-savin' o' the kid! That wa'n't the act o' no beast—not by a damned sight!"
"Yes, Captain," Van Dusen answered, "I'll admit that was not the act of a beast. But don't you think that a man becomes worse than a beast when he allows the craving for drugs to destroy mind and body and to prompt him to acts such as those of which this degenerate has been guilty?"
"But, Mr. Detective," the fisherman argued, "that man was led astray. Seems as if, 'cordin' to my way o' thinkin', this case is a heap like that o' a poor gal what's led off when she's young. It don't make no difference what happens arterward. The folks, women 'specially, won't give her no credit, no matter how hard she tries to go right. They jest naturally kain't see no good in her. Ye see, I used to know a gal like that. But she was smart. She up an' moved clear out o' the country, an' started life all over ag'in. It's right-smart hard to believe, but, sir, that gal married a preacher, an' worked a durn sight harder fer God than a heap o' the ones that she up and left behind did! Them poor fools are still a-talkin' 'bout her. Now, Mr. Van Dusen, do ye exactly have to arrest Garnet if we find him?"
"Well," the detective answered, "since he's a murderer any one has the right to arrest him. For my part, I have no right to take him in charge for the other things he's done. I have no warrant, an' I'm not a state officer."
"What I'm afeard of," Ichabod went on, "is that while he's a-sufferin' so, an' so full o' remorse, he'll do away with himself. If he don't do that now, I 'low as how he's a cured man. It's my opinion that feller will never hit the dope ag'in. An' if he don't, he's too valuable a man to lose. If we come up with him, let's me an' you see if we can't git him to do what that kind-hearted little girl wanted him to—go off somewhars under another name an' work fer his feller human bein's, an' fer God. A man, when he does it right, is a-workin' fer Him when he practices medicine!"
Unaccustomed emotion vibrated in Van Dusen's voice as he replied:
"Captain, you yourself would make a good one to work for the Master. You have a heart! And, in my profession, I find many, both men and women, who are heartless. I would not willingly put a straw in the way of Garnet. But, just the same, for the love of God and man, think what his guilt is."
The old fisherman wagged his head in assent.
"Yes, I admit he has done a heap o' evil. But, Mr. Detective, the closin' words that man said to Ethel Marion are still a-ringin' in my ears. I hain't got much edicatin, but I can repeat 'em jest like she said the Doctor said 'em. Here they be: 'My only hope now is to return you safe to your friends an' to do my utmost to explain these most unbelievable circumstances. I care nothing fer my own future. It is ruined, an', like a good patient, I am ready to take my medicine.'"
As the old man ended his quotation from the Doctor's farewell to Ethel, Van Dusen suddenly pointed a little way ahead.
"Unless I'm greatly mistaken," he exclaimed, "he has already taken—or been given—his medicine. That looks to me like a yachtsman's cap down there on the beach. You said he was dressed in yachting costume."
The two men hurried forward. When they reached the cap, which was weighted down with a shell, the detective picked it up and found a note pinned to the top of it. Captain Ichabod glanced about him with apprehension at thought of the tragedy that might have occurred here.
Just beyond where they were standing there was a sort of false inlet. It does not show as an inlet upon the map. Nevertheless, at times it allows the water to cut clear across the Core Banks. Except at high tide, it is shallow. But it is not safe for fording by those who do not know the way, for the bed of it abounds in treacherous quicksands. It was indeed at this point that Captain Jones had feared lest Garnet, a stranger, might meet with disaster. Now, it seemed likely that he had.
Van Dusen unpinned the note, opened it, and read aloud:
"To the World:"I hope to cross this unknown channel in safety, for the sake of the young woman, Ethel Marion, who is pure and innocent. I have spent my energies in order that the world might be benefited. But in zeal to win the fame for myself while helping others, I resorted to drugs to give me a capacity for strength beyond that apportioned to me by my Creator. Let my guilt serve as a warning to every professional man who desires to be of service to his fellows. There can be no gain to humanity from a folly that must cost him his own soul."Gifford Garnet."
"To the World:
"I hope to cross this unknown channel in safety, for the sake of the young woman, Ethel Marion, who is pure and innocent. I have spent my energies in order that the world might be benefited. But in zeal to win the fame for myself while helping others, I resorted to drugs to give me a capacity for strength beyond that apportioned to me by my Creator. Let my guilt serve as a warning to every professional man who desires to be of service to his fellows. There can be no gain to humanity from a folly that must cost him his own soul.
"Gifford Garnet."
Ichabod burst forth excitedly as the reading ended.
"Thar, now, didn't I tell ye that feller was no beast? The poor man! I wonder if he did get over all right. Maybe he has jest really destroyed himself, an' meant to, but didn't want folks to think he was that kind o' a coward."
Van Dusen shook his head.
"No, I don't believe he meant to kill himself. I believe he meant to try his best to cross, but feared he might be swept away and drowned."
Ichabod bade the detective wait while he himself should ford the inlet in order to look for tracks in the sand on the further side. He reached the opposite shore safely, and there moved to and fro along the water's edge for a time, apparently making a close search. Van Dusen awaited a signal, but there was none. At last, Ichabod reëntered the water and crossed to where the detective awaited him. In answer to the mute inquiry of his companion's gaze, Captain Jones shook his head sadly as he spoke.
"Mr. Van Dusen, thar hain't a doubt in my mind but that God A'mighty will be mighty easy with that feller at the judgment seat."
The two slowly retraced their steps toward the cabin. The detective purposely lagged a little. He wished to save his companion from over-exertion. He had never hitherto seen a man of such advanced age endure so much strenuous physical activity, and he feared that it might bring ill consequences. As a matter of fact, of the two, Ichabod probably felt less fatigued.
It was dark by the time they reached the landing. A sailor from the yacht was in waiting for them with a motor-equipped tender, similar to that ofThe Isabel. The man had already made his painter fast to the disabled boat, ready for towing it back to the yacht. Very quickly, the detective and fisherman were aboard, and the little boat was chugging sturdily towardThe Hialdo. Van Dusen reflected, almost with a sigh of regret, that his work was practically at an end. There remained only to make a report to the Collector of the Port and the Justice of the Peace at Beaufort. He would exhibit to them the cap and the accompanying note, and thus the case would be done with. The evidence would eliminate Doctor Garnet from further consideration.
Ichabod regarded the detective as a man of extraordinary experience and ability. He proposed to avail himself of the wisdom here ready to his need.
"Mr. Van Dusen," he demanded suddenly, "air ye a fambly man?"
"I suppose," was the answer, given with a smile, "you mean by that, am I so lucky as to have a wife and children."
"That's it!" Ichabod agreed.
"No, my friend, I am sorry to say that I am not. I suspect I'm one of those fellows that will keep putting it off until it's too late. But, why do you ask?"
"I reckon the reason is," the old man said very solemnly, "cause I'm goin' to be, myself, an' that right soon. An' I thought if ye was, ye might be able to give me a little advice 'bout the pre-nuptals, as Sarey calls 'em. She mentioned it, an', to tell ye the truth, I didn't know the meanin' o' the remark. Is it something pertain' to weddin' frocks an' things, or air ye like me, igornant? She said, jest before I left, that it'd take a little time for the pre-nuptals, an' since I ag'in realized how unsartin life is, I sorter thought I'd like to have it over with to-morrer."
Van Dusen smiled.
"I don't think you need to worry, Captain Ichabod," he declared soothingly. "I think the pre-nuptials will be satisfactorily adjusted by you without any trouble. All you need to do is to walk up to your girl to-morrow, and wave before her the five-thousand-dollar check Roy Morton's going to give you as your reward. So long as you have the wherewithal for the post-nuptials you don't need to worry about the pre-. Then you might tell her that there's a fine yacht all ready to take the two of you north for a honeymoon trip."
Van Dusen dropped his bantering tone and spoke with great cordiality.
"Leaving all joking aside, Captain, here is a splendid chance for you. I'll take you and your bride all the way to New York, or I'll drop you at any port you like between. I know that Roy and Miss Marion will be delighted by this chance to get better acquainted with the man who made their reunion possible. They owe everything to you."
"Yes," Ichabod retorted; "an' I owe them a heap, too. It's that girl that started the whole change in my way o' thinkin'. She caused me to decide to take on a fambly an' happiness. I don't much like what ye says 'bout that-thar five thousand, though. Ye see, we folks down this way don't go round savin' lives fer pay—that is 'ceptin' the coast-guard boys. What we does is fer the feelin's that possess us. Why, do ye know, if thar's airy man in Cartaret that I didn't think'd do what I did, an' more, in this scrape, I'd head a passel o' men to run him clean into the swamps fer keeps!"
"It's a legally posted reward offered for the discovery of Ethel Marion," Van Dusen explained, "and there is no question as to its being rightfully yours. You need have no scruple about taking it. But Roy and his sweetheart will convince you as to that, even if I can't."
Ichabod appeared dubious for the moment. Then his face wrinkled in a grin, for he had found a method whereby to satisfy his conscience in the matter.
"Wall," he declared judicially, "I has lost consider'ble time from my fishin'." Then his enthusiasm overcame his air of reticence. "Whoopee! Five-thousand dollars! I cal'late that sure will cut out them pre-nuptals—whatever they be."
Roy and Ethel stood by the rail on the yacht's deck as the tender drew alongside. They were filled with anxiety over the results of the search upon the shore. Dismay touched them when they saw the cap that Van Dusen carried in his hand as they stepped forward. Ethel's cheek blanched, but she asked no question; only stood waiting while the detective stepped aside with Roy and gave him Garnet's note. The young man hastily read the message. For a moment, he mused as if in doubt concerning its significance; then he asked:
"Do you think that he made the crossing in safety?"
"I think not," was the reply. "Captain Ichabod went through the channel to the other side. He looked everywhere for signs of Garnet's having continued on up the beach, but the search was fruitless. I have an idea that the Doctor, in his weakened condition, was unable to breast the tide, and so was carried out to sea. To my mind, it seems, perhaps, the best ending for that drug-crazed man. At the same time, I confess I'm heartily sorry for the fellow. Had there been any way to get him clear of the charges it would have been necessary for him to face, I for one would have been willing to go to any length to save him, to get him away to some place where he was not known and could begin life anew."
Roy showed the note to Ethel, and explained how the evidence seemed to indicate that the physician was dead. The girl listened quietly, but when her lover had made an end, she turned quickly and went away to her stateroom, to be alone with her grief.
During Ethel's absence the yacht was got under way for Beaufort. Van Dusen and Ichabod restored their energies by a hearty meal. By the time the moon had risen, the party of four were gathered aft, talking together quietly, and enjoying the beauties in the panorama of sea and shore and sky unfolded by the yacht's progress. There was rapture in the hearts of both lovers in this reunion after so great trials. Each of them had sailed over these waters in an agony of grief and fear while they were separated from each other. Now, they were once again together. The fear and the peril were things of the past. For the present, there was only joy, a joy that would endure for the days to come.
Van Dusen explained to the others how he had extended an invitation to Ichabod to make use of the yacht for his honeymoon-trip. Ethel was astonished and delighted to learn of the old fisherman's romance and his intended bridal on the morrow.
"But, do you know," she exclaimed with a smile, to Captain Jones, "I supposed, of course, you were married, and had grandchildren?"
"Not me!" the old man answered, unabashed. "But I do aim to!"
Van Dusen further explained that the only thing now wanting was the consent of the bride herself to the plans. He then spoke again of the reward to be paid to Ichabod. Roy declared that this should be made out immediately. Once again, Captain Icky protested against the payment, but without much heart in his objections, and finally, after mumbling something as to the time lost from his fishing, he consented to receive the amount. But on a condition. He stipulated that the check should be made out to Sarah Porter, and that in the left-hand corner there should be written the words:
"In lieu of all other pre-nuptals."
The fisherman gave it as his positive opinion that this would clinch the matter for the following day.
"Anyhow," he added grimly, "if it don't, I'll be dogged if she gits it!"
When the yacht reached Beaufort, the party went ashore, for it had been decided that Ethel should be cared for at the Inlet Hotel, where, if need be, she might prove of service in persuading Sarah into meeting the ardent Ichabod's wishes.
The hostess greeted the girl warmly, and fussed over her with a maternal solicitude that promised well for the fisherman's hopes in the matter of grandchildren. Then, when she had seen her guest comfortably installed, Sarah returned to the porch, where Ichabod, armed with the check, was anxiously awaiting her.
"Oh," she exclaimed tenderly, "I'm so glad you have returned safely! I've really worried about you. I was afraid that dreadful man might do something terrible if you came upon him unexpectedly."
"No, sir," was the spirited retort; "there ain't nothin' kin git me now but you!"
The gallant remark so pleased the spinster that she patted his hand affectionately, as they sat down side by side on a porch settee.
Ichabod braced himself for the encounter. He felt that there was to be no shilly-shally now. Moreover, his backbone was amazingly stiffened by the five-thousand-dollar check. He meant business! Besides, it would never do to disappoint his new friends. He was going to make that honeymoon-trip, or "bust!"
"Sarah," he began, "do ye remember as how in the old days I was always said to be a man o' very few words?"
"Why, yes, Ichabod," Sarah agreed—perhaps a little doubtful, "come to think about it I believe you were. But what's agitating of you to-night? There seems to be something heavy-like on your mind."
"Thar is, Sary—somethin' mighty big an' I reckin as how you'll think it sudden. But that's the only way to do—jest speak right plumb out an' have it over."
His hearer paled slightly. She had a horrid suspicion that her lover had backslidden, that he meant to return to his hermit life on the Island, and was here now to jilt her.
"Of course, ye understand that me an' you are promised to wed?" Ichabod went on.
"Yes," came the faltered response.
"Wall, thar ain't but one thing now as I see it that is a-standin' in the way, an' that is them-thar pre-nuptals you mentioned when I wanted to hurry things a leetle. Now, what I'm a-comin' to is this: I'm mighty well aware that them things takes time an' costs money. In lieu o' them as the lawyers say I'm servin' ye with this"—he extended the check—"an' we'll fix the hull thing up in the mornin', an' sail no'th in the evenin' on my New York friend's yacht, for our after-nuptals. But, consarn ye! thar's jest one other condition: Sure as shootin', ye'll have to pay our way back!"
Sarah took the check to the light. She gasped as she read the four figures. There was awe in her voice as she pronounced the words aloud:
"Five-thousand dollars!"
Then, after a moment, she questioned seriously:
"Ichabod, are ye goin' to build the addition on the hotel besides?"
The old fisherman nodded emphatically.
"That," he stoutly declared, "was a gentleman's promise!"
Sarah capitulated.
"Ichabod Jones, I ought to call you a triflin' rascal for starting in to scare me like you've done. Anyhow, I jest can't make it earlier than eleven-thirty. Will that do?"
The fisherman's reply was to take Sarah in his arms. Roy and Van Dusen in the hotel lobby hailed the smack that followed as a signal of the wooer's success.
Ichabod saw Ethel come out on the porch and take a seat at the far end. He somewhat hastily released Sarah from his arms, with the explanation that he ought to leave her free to make her preparations for the wedding. The spinster, blushing with happiness and excitement, hurried to busy herself with making ready for her new state of full womanhood. Just as Roy reached Ethel's side, Ichabod joined the two with the glad tidings of his sweetheart's acceptance of the "pre-nuptals." The fisherman's apprehensions concerning too much publicity for the wedding ceremony led him rather shyly to suggest that it should take place on boardThe Hialdo, away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk. He explained that he didn't know which would be worse—the small boys, or the older devils, or the cacklin' hens.
Immediately after the bank opened next morning, the cashier readjusted his enormous bone-rimmed spectacles in order to study a check presented for deposit by Miss Sarah Porter. Then he espied the phrase concerning "pre-nuptals" in the upper left-hand corner, and that was sufficient, for he was a man of shrewdness. He passed the news along to every person that appeared before his wicket. In less than half an hour, the whole town was agog over the astounding intelligence that the old maid, Sarah Porter, was engaged to be married. There remained the mystery as to the identity of the bridegroom. But this was speedily cleared up by the genial Doctor Hudson, who made no scruples of advertising his old friend's happiness. The result was that by the time set for the ceremony, the whole town was out, waiting in eager anticipation. It was indeed a season of great excitement. Here was an opportunity to celebrate an event that was at once amazing, romantic and historic. Captain Ichabod had been known by them for twenty years as an inveterate woman-hater. During that same score of years, as her friends could testify, Sarah Porter had refused no less than seven excellent offers of marriage. Now, these two were to marry. The citizens, with one accord, marveled and rejoiced.
Yet, no one criticized the match. The two were universally liked and respected. While the townsfolk wondered and smiled they did not jeer. But they were resolved to make a demonstration of their appreciation. They meant to give the wedded pair a "send off" to be remembered.
Sarah, assisted by three of her closest friends, passed the whole night in making ready for the momentous occasion. By nine o'clock in the morning, her trunk was safely aboard the yacht. Immediately after her return from the bank, Captain Jones escorted her aboardThe Hialdo—before the townspeople had any suspicion of what was going on. They were quickly followed by Doctor Hudson and the clergyman. Van Dusen bustled in after them, having finished the paying off of the chartered boats.
The ceremony was duly performed. A woman's dream of years at last became reality.
Van Dusen suggested that the newly wedded pair should go ashore to receive the congratulations of the crowd that now thronged the water front. But Ichabod, having in mind pestiferous small boys, steadfastly refused any such exhibition of himself and his bride. His opinion of them would have been confirmed could he have overheard their questioning of Doctor Hudson, which was: Had he examined their teeth to see how old they were?
Nevertheless, the townsfolk, though they got no sight of the principals in the affair, cheered with a lusty good-will. And, too, they dragged a cannon down to the shore, where the gunner fired a salute of twenty-one thunderous explosions. The Collector of the Port, who alone knew that this was an honor reserved for the President of the United States, inquired curiously why this exact number was chosen. The gunner replied seriously that it represented the bride's age.
At Uncle Icky's request, the yacht sailed first for the coast-guard station. Here, he had no hesitation in proclaiming his new state and in receiving the congratulations of his friends—for there were no small boys to trouble. He explained the whereabouts of Shrimp and the hens, with a request that they should be rescued from the barren stretch of sand. The coast-guard men promised that the little flock should receive a home at the station itself. Thus, the old fisherman's last concern with the old life was happily ended. In a moment apart, he made a final entry in the diary.
"Through with Shrimp and the shack, by heck! My weddin'-day! Hooray!"
It was owing to a request by Ethel to Van Dusen that the yacht's course was to Portsmouth that night. Early next morning, before the others were stirring, Captain Ichabod rowed Ethel in a small boat fromThe Hialdo'sanchorage to the town. They were absent for a full three hours. On her return, Ethel spoke with enthusiasm of the town's quaint charm, but she gave no details of her visit there, not even to Roy. The old fisherman said nothing at all of the trip, not even to Sarah Jones.
The wedded pair, though urged to prolong their stay on the yacht, insisted on leaving whenThe Hialdoreached Norfolk. They took with them a promise from their new friends to come south again in order to attend the opening of the new Inlet Hotel.
Colonel Marion was appointed to head a mission to France for study on the war-methods there. On his return to New York from Texas, he urged Ethel's immediate marriage, before his sailing. Naturally, there was no objection on the part of the lovers, and the father was able to depart tranquil in the assurance that his daughter would be safe in her husband's care.
One morning a few months later, as Roy and Ethel sat at breakfast, the servant brought him a letter with a Paris postmark, which was addressed in the familiar hand of Colonel Marion. Somewhat surprised that the letter should be to him rather than to Ethel, Roy opened it and read:
"Dear Roy:"Just a few lines to give you the surprise of your life. I have found that our old friend, Doctor Garnet, was not lost in the quicksands, as you supposed. On the contrary, he is here in France, doing noble, wonderful work in the branch of his profession that he always loved—surgery. I understand that he has been decorated several times. And also, strange to say, he is going under his own name. I am sending this news to you instead of to Ethel direct, because I feared the effect of a sudden shock on her. You can break the information to her gently."With love to the dear girl,"Your father,"Stephen Marion."
"Dear Roy:
"Just a few lines to give you the surprise of your life. I have found that our old friend, Doctor Garnet, was not lost in the quicksands, as you supposed. On the contrary, he is here in France, doing noble, wonderful work in the branch of his profession that he always loved—surgery. I understand that he has been decorated several times. And also, strange to say, he is going under his own name. I am sending this news to you instead of to Ethel direct, because I feared the effect of a sudden shock on her. You can break the information to her gently.
"With love to the dear girl,
"Your father,"Stephen Marion."
Roy had little alarm lest his wife should suffer any ill effect from what she would regard as the best of news.
"My dear," he asked at once, "would you be greatly surprised to get authentic information that Gifford Garnet is alive and doing wonders in his profession of surgery? Would you believe it, if I should tell you that he has been several times decorated for his services on the battle front in France?"
To his astonishment, Ethel showed no extraordinary excitement, though her face grew radiant.
"No, Roy," she replied, "I should not be surprised, but I should be very glad!"
"Your answer sounds strange to me," Roy declared, with a puzzled glance across the table. "Anyhow, you are calm enough so that I don't need to hesitate in telling you that your father's letter to me actually contains this astonishing news."
"Thank God, Roy!" Ethel said reverently. "The madman has become sane again. Thank God, he did obey my sealed orders."
Roy stared at his wife in open bewilderment.
"What on earth do you mean, Ethel?" he demanded. "Have you been keeping something from me?"
"Yes, my dear husband, I've been guilty of just that thing. I've just been waiting and praying for the hour when I could come to you and give you the very information that father has been able to send you. I'll tell you the whole story. But, first, I must exact a promise. For Ichabod's sake, as well as my own, you must not breathe a word of the truth to Arthur Van Dusen."
Still mightily wondering as to the meaning of all this mystery and eager for its solution, Roy readily gave the required promise that he would keep Ethel's secret. Thereupon she told him the story.
"The night Arthur and poor old Ichabod returned to us aboardThe Hialdowith the Doctor's cap and note, I believed as firmly as you did that the unfortunate man had been swallowed up in the quicksands, or swept away to death by the tide. At the time when he left me alone in the shack in order to go for help, I would not let him go until he had agreed to carry with him sealed orders under which he should act. I wrote these and gave them to him, and he promised to follow my instructions. They were for his future guidance. I believed that, if he followed them, he would not only escape punishment, but reform so as to be of service once more to the world. Naturally, when help did not arrive from Portsmouth, I concluded that his strength had not been sufficient for the task, that he had perished. So, I was not surprised by the news brought to the yacht by the men who had been searching for him.
"That morning when I visited Portsmouth, Roy dear, I had two objects in view. One was to verify the fact that Doctor Garnet had not reached the town. The other was to visit the young physician whom I knew to be located there, in order to arrange with him to care for the afflicted man in case he should arrive later on. As I was about to leave the yacht, early in the morning, Captain Ichabod appeared."
Ethel's gravity vanished for a moment. Her lustrous eyes narrowed and twinkled. She smiled until the dimples in her cheeks were shadows against the rose.
"I suppose he stole away from the fond Sarah while she was asleep. He never could have managed it had she been awake." She became serious again, and Roy, whose mouth had widened in an appreciative grin, again listened with sober attention.
"Captain Ichabod had a confession to make to me. That confession was vastly more of a surprise to me, as you will soon understand, than this news in father's letter. The old fellow first swore me to secrecy. Then he out and told me, not without a certain exultation at his shrewdness, that he had put one over on the greatest detective in America, Arthur Van Dusen. He explained that when he and Arthur reached the false inlet where they found the cap and note, he believed that Doctor Garnet had crossed in safety, for the channel was by no means so dangerous as he represented to the detective. As a matter of fact, he hoped and expected to find the Doctor's tracks on the other side, and he did so although he concealed the knowledge of their existence from Van Dusen. Ichabod went on to tell me that he was moved to sympathy in Doctor Garnet's behalf, that he believed the man would reform, would be of use to the world, that he was worth saving from the law's punishment for offenses inspired by a drug-maddened brain. He insisted that he told no lie to Arthur—only allowed the world's greatest detective to draw a few wrong conclusions from his vague remarks and the melancholy expression on his face when he returned after crossing the inlet to look for tracks.
"Right then and there, that old fisherman and I formed a partnership. We decided that we would locate our man, save him from capture, and have him restored to the normal. This would be comparatively easy since the authorities believed him to be dead. We would demand in return that he should go to France, there to serve those sufferers on the battlefield who might have need of him.
"Ichabod preferred to remain behind, when I went to the physician's house. There I found that Doctor Garnet had in fact been received by the young doctor, who had taken him in and cared for him—proud indeed to do so, since he knew his patient's reputation and held him in veneration for his skill. The younger doctor readily entered into a conspiracy with me when he had heard my story. I had an interview with Doctor Garnet. He accepted my proposition fully. He was glad of a chance to expiate his follies. He swore to me that never again would he take a grain of the drug. At his request, I brought Ichabod to his bedside, and he thanked the old man warmly for all that he had done both for himself and for me, his victim. I offered him funds for the trip abroad, but he told me that he was well supplied with money. He told me also that he had come in a small sailboat to carry me away from the shack, but had seen on approaching that his services were no longer needed, so had returned whence he came.... From that day until now, I have had no word of the man. Yet, I felt that he had kept his promise."
"And he did—nobly!" Roy said. There was a new admiration in the glance with which he regarded his wife, who had accomplished this miracle of regeneration.
Ethel met that glance, and smiled responsively.
Once again she dimpled, as she spoke half-seriously, half-playfully.
"Roy, dear, aren't you just a bit proud of your wife and Uncle Ichabod? Between us we so worked it out that my kidnapping was not in vain. It has done three things: First and best, it hurried our marriage; second, it made Captain Jones a bridegroom instead of a hermit; third, it furnished a hero for the battlefields of France."