Captain Mayo exchanged a long look with Alma Marston when he came up
the steps. Love, pity, and greeting were in his eyes. Her countenance
revealed her vivid emotions; she was overwrought, unstrung, half-crazed
after a night spent with her fears. When he came within her reach
caution was torn from her as gossamer is flicked away by a gale. Impulse
had always governed her; she gave way to it then.
"I don't care," she sobbed. "I love you. They may as well know it!"
Before he understood her intentions or could prevent her rashness she
flung her arms about his neck and kissed him repeatedly.
Marston stood in his tracks like a man stricken by paralysis; his cigar
dropped from his open mouth. This exhibition under his very nose, with
his guests and the whole crew of his yacht looking on, fairly stunned
him.
"If you had died I would have died!" she wailed.
Then her father plunged toward her, elbowing the astonished Beveridge
out of his way.
Captain Mayo gently unhooked the arms of the frantic girl from about his
neck and stepped forward, putting himself between father and daughter.
He was not taking sensible thought in the matter; he was prompted by an
instinctive impulse to protect her.
Mayo had no word ready at his tongue's end, and Mar-ston's anathema was
muffled and incoherent. The girl's rash act had tipped over the sane and
manly self-possession of both of them. The captain was too bewildered
to comprehend the full enormity of his action in standing guard over the
daughter of Julius Marston, as if she needed protection on her father's
quarter-deck. He did not move to one side of the alley when Marston
jerked an impatient gesture.
"I want to say that I am wholly to blame, sir," he faltered. "I hope you
will overlook--"
"Are you presuming to discuss my daughter's insanity with me?" He
noticed that the sailors were preparing to hoist the tender to the
davits. "Drop that boat back into the water!" he shouted. There was an
ugly rasp in his voice, and for a moment it seemed as if he were about
to lose control of himself. Then he set a check on his temper and
tongue, though his face was deathly white and his eyes were as hard as
marbles. Resolve to end further exhibition in this incredible business
dominated his wrathful shame.
"If you will set us ashore--" pleaded Mayo.
"Get back into that boat, you and your gang, whatever it is!"