In pure enjoyment Fessenden whistled shrilly and sang snatches of song. His trip had enough of mystery about it to arouse all the boy in him. The thought of his evasion of Miss Yarnell's importunity, too, made him laugh aloud. To be sure, his merriment was a little diminished by his recollection that she had shown no desire to accompany him at the last. Was she merely whimsical, he wondered, or had she acted with a motive? He hauled the mainsail a trifle tauter, and watched with critical eye the flattening of the canvas. The _Wisp_ fairly sailed herself, and needed little attention. He burst into song: "And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle fre-e-e, Away the good ship flies and leaves Old England on her lee." He stopped. The wind pushed persistently at the flattening sail; the water purred under the bow; the shore was already hazy behind him. These things were as they ought to be, yet he had become conscious that something extraordinary had interrupted his flow of song. His eyes, sweeping the whole horizon, came back to the sloop, surveyed her slowly from bowsprit to rudder-post, and rested finally on the closed double-doors of the little cabin that faced him across the cockpit. At that moment a loud knocking shook the latticed doors. Then a mellow voice spoke distinctly: "'Behind no prison grate,' she said, 'That slurs the sunshine half a mile, Live captives so uncomforted As souls behind a smile-- God's pity let us pray,' she said." The doors were flung open, and framed in the hatchway appeared the upper part of the body, the dark hair, the defiant eyes, and the faintly-smiling mouth of the celebrated Miss Madge Yarnell. [Illustration: MISS YARNELL MOUNTED THE PAIR OF STEPS FROM THE CABIN] IV For a moment Fessenden could only stare. Then he gave a long whistle. "This Maryland climate is--extraordinary!" he remarked to the horizon. Miss Yarnell mounted the pair of steps from the cabin to the level of the cockpit, and seated herself on the lockers. "I simply had to come," she explained. "Marvellous impulsion!" "I'm not welcome, then?" "I'm afraid you've guessed it." "Obstinate--man!" "Artful--woman!" "You are a very chilly person. I think I'll begin to hate you pretty soon." "Really!" "Now that I'm here, you might as well make the best of it. Please, sir, I'll try to be very agreeable and entertaining, if you'll only be kind to me." "You'd move a heart of stone, but mine's a diamond. You're always charming--I admit that freely--but I can't consider that in this particular situation. No, no. 'Off with your head; so much for Bolingbroke.'" He braced the wheel against his knee and began to haul in the sheet. "You're going back?" "Yes." "To put me ashore?" "Right, my lady."