Haltren shook his head. Darrow regarded him stupidly. "How did you happen to be in this part of the world?" Haltren opened his eyes. "Oh, I'm likely to be anywhere," he said, vaguely, passing a shaking hand across his face. There was a moment's silence; then he said: "Darrow, is my wife aboard this boat?" "Yes," said Darrow, under his breath. "Isn't that the limit?" Through the silence the cardinal sang steadily. "Isn't that the limit?" repeated Darrow. "We came on the yacht--that was Brent's yacht, the _Dione_, you saw at sea. You know the people aboard. Brent, Mrs. Castle, your wife, and I left the others and took the launch to explore the lagoons.... And here we are. Isn't it funny?" he added, with a nerveless laugh. Haltren stood there slowly passing his hand over his face. "It is funnier than you know, Darrow," he said. "Kathleen and I--this is our wedding-day." "Well, that _is_ the limit," muttered Darrow, as Haltren turned a stunned face to the sunshine where the little cardinal sang with might and main. "Come below," he added. "You are going to speak to her, of course?" "If she cared to have me--" "Speak to her anyway. Haltren; I"--he hesitated--"I never knew why you and Kathleen separated. I only knew what everybody knows. You and she are four years older now; and if there's a ghost of a chance-- Do you understand?" Haltren nodded. "Then we'll go below," began Darrow. But Major Brent appeared at that moment, apoplectic eyes popping from his purple face as he waddled forward to survey the dismantled launch. Without noticing either Haltren or Darrow, he tested the slippery angle of the deck, almost slid off into the lagoon, clutched the rail with both pudgy hands, and glared at the water. "I suppose," he said, peevishly, "that there are alligators in that water. I know there are!" He turned his inflamed eyes on Haltren, but made no sign of recognition. "Major," said Darrow, sharply, "you remember Dick Haltren--" "Eh?" snapped the major. "Where the deuce did you come from, Haltren?" "He was the man who hailed us. He took the wheel," said Darrow, meaningly. "Nice mess you made of it between you," retorted the major, scowling his acknowledgments at Haltren. Darrow, disgusted, turned on his heel; Haltren laughed. The sound of his own laugh amused him, and he laughed again. "I don't see the humor," said the major. "The _Dione_ is blown half-way to the Bermudas by this time." He added, with a tragic gesture of his fat arms; "Are you aware that Mrs. Jack Onderdonk is aboard?" The possible fate of Manhattan's queen regent so horrified Major Brent that his congested features assumed the expression of an alarmed tadpole.