Chapter 22

CAPTAIN JULES LISTENS TO A STORY

Tania did not die. After a few days the fever left her, but she was so weak and frail that the physician in charge of her case advised Mrs. Curtis to allow her to remain in the sanatorium for at least a month. When she should have sufficiently recovered Mrs. Curtis had decided to take upon herself the responsibility of the child's future. She had been a constant visitor in the sickroom and during the long hours she had spent with the imaginative little one had grown to love her, while Tania in turn adored the stately, white-haired woman and clung to her even as she did to Madge, a fact which pleased Mrs. Curtis more than she would admit.

Philip Holt was discovered hiding in New York City. The treasure-box was in the keeping of old Sal, for Philip had not dared to dispose of the coins or the jewelry while the detectives were on the lookout for him. Tom Curtis saw that the case against Philip Holt was conducted very quietly. The houseboat girls had had enough trouble and excitement. Their treasure was restored to them and they had no desire ever to hear Philip Holt's name mentioned again.

Tom Curtis was more curious. In questioning Philip, Tom learned that he himself was innocently to blame for Philip's crime. Holt recalled to Tom the fact that, on returning from the houseboat after spending the evening with Captain Jules and his friends, Tom had mentioned to his mother that the precious iron safe was on the houseboat, and that if she cared to look at the old jewelry again Miss Jenny Ann would unlock the sideboard drawer and show it to her the next day. In that moment Philip Holt decided on his theft, but he did not expect Tania to thwart him. He had slipped through one of the open staterooms into the dining room of the houseboat, broken the lock of the sideboard and opened the dining room door from the inside to make his escape. Philip Holt believed that in taking Tania with him he had accomplished his own downfall.

If he had not stopped to leave the child at the deserted farmhouse, his movements would never have been traced.

Madge Morton was a good deal changed by the events of the last few weeks. She was so unlike her usual happy, light-hearted and impetuous self that Miss Jenny Ann and the houseboat girls were worried about her. They ardently wished that Madge would fly into a temper again just to show she possessed her old spirit. But she was very gentle and quiet and liked to spend a good deal of the time alone.

Miss Jenny Ann consulted with Lillian, Phil and Eleanor. They decided to write to David Brewster to ask him to come to spend a few days with them on the houseboat. Madge was fond of David and the young man had done such fine things for himself in the past year that her friends hoped a sight of him would stir her out of her depression.

David was visiting Mrs. Randolph--"Miss Betsey"--in Hartford. He replied that he would try to come to Cape May in another week or ten days, but please not to mention the fact to Madge until he was more sure of coming.

One bright summer afternoon Madge returned alone from a long motor ride with Mrs. Curtis and Tom. She found the houseboat entirely deserted and remembered that the girls and Miss Jenny Ann had had an engagement to go sailing. She curled up on the big steamer chair and gave herself over to dreams.

A small boat, pulled by a pair of strong arms, came along close to the deck of the "Merry Maid." Madge looked up to see Captain Jules's faithful face beaming at her.

"All alone?" he called out cheerfully. "Come for a row with me. I'll get you back before tea."

Madge wanted to refuse, but she hardly knew how, so she slipped into the prow of the skiff and sat there idly facing him.

Captain Jules frowned at the girl's pale face, which looked even paler under the loose twists of her soft auburn hair. Madge looked older and more womanly than she had the day the captain first saw her. There was a deeper meaning to the upper curves of her full, red lips and a gentler sweep to the downward droop of her heavy, black lashes. She was fulfilling the promise of the great beauty that was to be hers. It was easy to see that she had the charm that would make her life full of interest.

Still Captain Jules frowned as though the picture of Madge and her future did not please him.

"How much longer are you going to stay at Cape May, Miss Morton?" he inquired.

Madge smiled at him. "I don't know anything about 'Miss Morton's' plans, but Madge expects to be here for about two weeks more."

Recently the captain had been calling the houseboat girls by their first names, as he was with them so constantly in their trouble. But he had now decided that he must return to the formality of the beginning of their acquaintance. It was best to do so.

"And afterward?" the old sailor questioned, pretending that he was really not greatly interested in Madge's reply.

The girl's expression changed. "I don't know," she returned. "Of course, Eleanor and I will go back to 'Forest House' for a while. Aren't you glad that Uncle has been able to pay off the mortgage? When Nellie and Lillian go to Miss Tolliver's and Phil to college I don't know exactly what I shall do. Mrs. Curtis and Tom have asked me to make them a visit in New York next winter."

The captain frowned again. It was well that Madge was looking over the water and not at him, for she never could have told why he looked so displeased.

"You and Tom Curtis are very good friends, aren't you, Madge?" said Captain Jules abruptly.

Madge smiled to herself. She felt as though she were in the witness box. Was her dear old captain trying to cross-examine her?

"Of course, I like Tom better than almost any one else. He is awfully good to me. You know you like Tom yourself, so why shouldn't I?" she ended wickedly.

"I like him. Certainly I do. He is a fine, upright fellow and his money hasn't hurt him a mite, which you can't say of the most of us. But it's a different matter with you, young lady, and I want you to go slowly."

"But I am not going at all, Captain," laughed Madge. "It seems to me that I want only one thing in the world, and that's to find my father. Sometimes I am afraid that perhaps I shall never find my father after all!"

Captain Jules coughed and his voice sounded rather husky. It had a different note in it from any that Madge had ever heard him use to her.

"Don't play the coward, child," he said sternly; "just because you have had one defeat don't go about the world saying you must give up. It may be that your father did that once and is sorry for it now. Keep up the fight. No matter how many times we may be knocked down in this world, if we have the right sort of courage we'll always get up again."

Madge sat up very straight. Her blue eyes flashed back at Captain Jules with an expression that he liked to see. "I am not going to give up my search," she answered defiantly. "One hears that it is Fate which separates two persons. If I find Father, I shall feel that I have won a victory over Fate. But I can't help longing to tell my father that I know that he is innocent of the fault for which he was disgraced and dismissed from the Navy, and that I have the proof in my possession that would make it clear to all the world as well as to me."

The old captain gave vent to a sudden exclamation that sounded like a groan. His face looked strangely drawn under his coat of tan.

"Are you sick, Captain Jules?" asked Madge hastily. "Do take my place and let me have the oars. I am sure I can row you."

Captain Jules smiled back at her. "What made you think I was sick?" he asked. "What was that you were telling me? How do you know that your father was guiltless of his fault? Why, Captain Robert Morton was one of the kindest men that ever trod a deck, and yet he was convicted of cruelty to one of his own sailors."

"Captain Jules," continued Madge earnestly, "I would like to tell you the whole story if you have time to listen to it. You know I promised long ago to tell you. Two years ago, when we were on the second of our houseboat excursions, we spent part of our holiday near Old Point Comfort. There I met the man who had been my father's superior officer. Some unpleasant things happened between his granddaughter and me, and she told my father's story at a dinner in order to humiliate me. Long afterward her grandfather heard of what his granddaughter had done and he made a statement before my friends which cleared my father's name. He confessed to having allowed my father to suffer for something he had commanded him to do. My father was too great a man to clear himself at the expense of his superior officer, so he left the Navy in disgrace and has never been heard of since that dreadful time.

"There isn't much more to tell. Only the old admiral has died since I met him. However, he left a paper that was sent to me, in which he acquits my father of all blame and takes the whole responsibility for my father's act on himself. Must we go back home, Captain Jules?" for, at the end of her speech, Madge observed that the captain had turned his skiff and was rowing directly toward the houseboat. He handed Madge aboard a few moments later with the air of one whose mind is elsewhere.

It was impossible for Miss Jenny Ann to persuade the old pearl diver to remain to supper. With very few words to any of the party he turned Madge over to her friends and rowed hurriedly away toward his home.