He told Gabrielle once upon a time that she was drifting upon a tide which would carry her to unhappy seas; but he himself had been doing the same thing since his work in England was finished. This was a man who had learned to love a woman, but was a very novice, none the less, in all the arts of love. Had it been a business affair, with what zeal would he not have plunged into it? Being far from that, a situation in which the whole soul of the man was at stake, he did as the woman had done--drifted upon the tide of circumstance, and was content to wait. Be sure that he had read the secret of Harry Lassett's passion for Maryska almost at the beginning. Because of it, he left her in the little house at Hampstead, and would have sailed to New York without her. If Harry had the courage, he would cut the knot, and the treasure ship would float upon a kindly stream to the harbour already prepared. But would he have the courage? One excuse and another kept Faber at Southampton, but the news did not come. The order to weigh anchor had been given, and recalled a dozen times in as many days. The yacht would have been in the Solent that very night, but for Gabrielle's instructions to her father. "Telegraph Mr. Faber," she had said. He received the message while he was writing to Sir Jules Achon in the little cabin which served him for library, and there being no train to serve his purpose, the fastest motor-car in Southampton was on the road to Brighton within the hour. It was half-past eleven when he reached Oriental Terrace, and five minutes later when he burst in upon a dismal company. Having taken possession of "the assets of respectability," Gordon Silvester had refused to budge an inch; and having exhausted his homilies upon "honour," "the married state," and the "scandal of the whole proceeding," had fallen to a sullen silence. Harry and Maryska, no less obstinate, declared their intention of remaining in Brighton until a registrar had married them, and then of leaving for Paris immediately. An appeal to the girl to consider her obligations toward John Faber met with the characteristic answer that she recognised none. She was sorry for this a little later on when Faber himself appeared just like a fairy godfather to a scowling Cinderella. His coming gratified her vanity; his dominant will never failed to subdue her. She remembered the hours they had spent together upon the road to Ranovica and all they had meant to her. "Why, little girl, and what has been going on here, now--and Mr. Lassett, too? I guess I'm on time for the party anyway. Will someone just tell me what it's all about before we begin? Don't move, Mr. Silvester. I'd have you all be comfortable and I'll light a cigar if Miss Maryska doesn't mind. Now, will no one tell me the story?"