"Well?" said Jake uncompromisingly.
She met his look unswervingly. "Let me be a friend to him tonight! Let me be alone with him and find out—if he will tell me—whether there is any truth in this rumour that there was a woman on board the yacht."
"And when you've found out?" said Jake.
She made a little gesture of appeal. "Will you leave that to me? I have sometimes felt that I might be—a help to him if ever there came an opportunity. Jake, you don't mind my trying to help him? I have a feeling that I understand him better than most people do."
"I think it's a wasted sentiment," Jake said. "But—do what seems good to you, my girl! I shan't interfere."
"And you won't be vexed?" she pleaded.
He smiled his sudden, illumining smile. "No, I reckon you'll never vex me any that way again," he said.
She went close to him. "Indeed—no, Jake! But—don't you understand? I hate to go against your wishes—your prejudices—in anything."
He put out a hand to her. "You needn't be afraid of that either," he said. "If you do it—it's right."
She clasped the strong hand tightly in both her own. "That's the best thing you've ever said to me," she said. "Are you quite sure you mean it?"
"Sure," said Jake, and pulled her to him to kiss her once again.
CHAPTER III
BUNNY
When Saltash arrived that evening he found Bunny and Jake sauntering together in the sunset glow along the gravelled terrace in front of the house. He shot towards them in his car with that characteristic suddenness of his, swerving and coming to a stand before the porch with the confident ease of an alighting bird. And here, seated in the porch and screened by white clematis, he found Maud.
She rose to greet him, her eyes alight with pleasure. "Oh, Charlie," she said, "I have wanted to shake hands with you ever since I heard of your escape."
He bent and kissed the hand she gave him. "Gracious as ever!" he commented lightly. "Had you begun to wear mourning for me, I wonder? It was a very cold bath, I assure you. We didn't enjoy it, any of us."
"I am sure you didn't." Her eyes still dwelt upon the dark face with its half-mocking smile with a species of maternal tenderness. "And you lost your yacht too! That was desperately unlucky."
He made a comic grimace. "I am past the age for crying over spilt milk, Maud of the Roses." He uttered his old name for her with daring assurance. "I have had worse losses than that in my time."
"And still you smile," she said.
He bowed. "A smile can conceal so much." He turned to his host as he came up behind him. "Well, Jake, I've taken you at your word, you see, and intruded into your virtuous household. How are Eileen and Molly and Betty and—last but not least—the son and heir?"
Maud laughed softly. "Well done, Charlie! How clever of you to remember them all!"
"Oh yes, I am quite clever," said Saltash, as again his hand met Jake's. "Too clever sometimes. I needn't ask if all goes well with you, Jake. Your prosperity is obvious, but don't wax fat on it. Bunny now—he's as lean as a giraffe. Can't you do something to him? He looks as if he'd melt into thin air at a touch."
"Oh, don't be an ass!" protested Bunny. "I'm as strong as a horse anyway.
Jake, tell him not to be an ass!"
"No good, I'm afraid," said Jake, with his sudden smile. "Come inside, my lord! The children are all flourishing, but in bed at the present moment. The baby—"
"Oh, I must see the baby!" declared Saltash, turning back to Maud.
She laid a hand on his arm. "I will take you to see him after dinner."
"Will you?" He smiled into her eyes. "I shall like that. But I shall probably want to shoot Jake when I come down again. Think it's safe?"
She smiled back at him with confidence. "Yes, I think so. Anyhow, I'm not afraid."
"Come and feed!" said Jake.
They sat down in the pretty oak-panelled dining-room with its windows opening upon the terrace and the long dim line of down. Saltash talked freely of Valrosa, of his subsequent voyaging, of the wreck of The Night Moth, but no word did he utter of the gift that had been flung to him on that night of stars in the Mediterranean. He was always completely at his ease in Jake's household, but it was not his way to touch at any time in Maud's presence upon any matter that could not be openly discussed before her. Their intimacy was not without its reservations.
Maud in her quiet happiness detected no hint of restraint in his manner. But he had always been elusive, often subtle. She did not look for candour from Charles Rex—unless she asked for it.
Watching him on that spring evening in the soft glow of the candles, marking the restless play of feature, the agile readiness of his wit, she asked herself, not for the first time, what manner of soul he had behind the mask. Somehow she did not wholly believe in that entity which so often looked jibing forth. Though she could ascribe no reason for it, she had a strong suspicion that the real self that was Saltash was of a different fibre altogether—a thing that had often suffered violence it might be, but nevertheless possessed of that gift of the resurrection which no violence can destroy.
"Why are you dissecting me tonight?" he asked her once and laughed and changed the subject before she could reply.
When dinner was over and she rose, he sprang to open the door for her with that royal bonhomie of his which somehow gave him the right to enter where others waited for permission.
"Take Bunny with you!" he murmured. "I want to talk to Jake."
She lifted her eyes with a flash of surprise. He bent towards her.
"And afterwards to you, Queen Rose. I shall not forget to claim my privileges in that respect."
She laughed a little, but she obeyed his behest as a matter of course. "Come for a turn in the garden with me, Bunny!" she said. "I've hardly seen you today."
The boy got up, passing Jake with a careless slap on the shoulder that testified to the excellent good fellowship that existed between them.
Saltash turned back into the room, and threw himself down by his host.
"That's right," he said as the door closed upon the brother and sister.
"Now we can talk."
Jake pushed a box of cigars to him. His keen eyes took Saltash in with the attention of the man accustomed to probe beneath the surface. There were not many who could hide from Jake Bolton anything he desired to know.
Saltash flicked an eyelid under his direct scrutiny as he chose his cigar. He was never more baffling than in his moments of candour.
"There are several things I've come to consult you about, Jake," he said easily, as Jake leaned across with a match.
"I'm listening," said Jake.
Saltash sent him a quizzical glance as his cigar kindled. "Prepared to turn me down at all points?" he suggested.
Jake's mouth relaxed a little. "Prepared to listen anyway," he said.
"It's to do with young Bunny, I take it."
Saltash leaned back in his chair with a laugh. "Very smart of you! Bunny certainly is my first proposition. What are you going to do with him?"
Jake also leaned back, and smoked for several