He smiled soberly at Fessenden's interested face. "Tom," he said, "every word I'm telling you is for your soul's good. It's all the truth, but it's a parable, too--for you. Well, as I reached the doorway between the two rooms, somebody seized both my elbows from behind. By George! She's as strong as a man." "What! Not----" "Yes, Madge." "Great Scott! I begin to have a glimmer." "I had just time to see that it _was_ Madge before she pushed me inside--into the inner room--and slammed the door behind me. It locked with a spring." "She was outside?" "Yes, in my room. I was inside that." "I understand." "Precisely. I fancy I don't need to tell you much more. I was a prisoner in my own yacht, and that yacht headed full speed down the bay, my men acting upon what they thought were my own orders. A lovely girl was in my room. I was as much separated from her as if I were in the moon, but my own crew couldn't know that, and neither could the world." "She's a heroine." "She is--the most adorable in the world! She talked to me through the closed door. What she said--well, that's only for her and me. I saw at last what a mad fool I'd been. Then--then she threw herself on my mercy." "You seem to have played the man." "She'd make a man of a snake! I saw myself in my true light at last; and I understood her at last. God bless her!" "Amen!" "We ran on down to Old Point Comfort, and the chaplain at the fort married us that same night." The two men shook hands. "After we left Old Point," went on Danton, "we cruised about a bit, got mussed up by the storm, and ran in here. And then you--you and _Betty_ appeared." His emphasis brought a penetrating look from Fessenden. "You said you were telling me a parable. You don't mean--surely you can't--Betty!" "I do." "Do you dare to think----" "I don't think anything. What I say is that my case furnishes a parallel to yours." "Speak out, man! What! You mean you think I ought to marry her?" "Well, then--yes." "Good God! Marry Betty!" "Yes." Fessenden rose abruptly to his feet and walked away a few paces. He stared unseeingly across the stretch of sand to the sea beyond. A hundred images of Betty flitted before his mind's eye--images graceful and smiling, sad and gay, merry and serious, always infinitely winsome. Her voice sounded in his ear--teasing, angry, kind--always low-toned and charming. He faced Danton. "Marry her? I've been wanting to do that very thing since the first minute I saw her--only, I didn't know it." His friend's face shone with relief and pleasure. He broke into a boyish laugh. "Great!" he said. "You're the right sort, Tom. I knew it, and I told Madge so." Fessenden could not respond to the other's mood. "All very well. But what will Betty say?" "Ask her." "I intend to. But is she old enough--is she in a position--to understand?" "I tell you, yes."