"But I do want to do it," he protested with splendid despairful resolve. "I
was only thinking of you--and the cruise. I do want to do it. I'm
absolutely at your disposal. When you ask me to do a thing, I'm only too
proud. To do it is the greatest happiness I could have."

Audrey replied softly:

"You deserve the Victoria Cross."

"Whatever do you mean?" he demanded nervously.

"I don't know exactly what I mean," she said. "But you're the nicest man I
ever knew."

He blushed.

"You mustn't say that to me," he deprecated.

"I shall, and I shall."

The sound of the thirty-six variations still came very faintly over the
water. The sun sent cataracts of warm light across all the estuary. The
water lapped against the boat, and Audrey was overwhelmed by the
inexplicable marvel of being alive in the gorgeous universe.

"I shall have to back water," she said, low. "There's no room to turn round
here."

"I suppose we'd better say as little about it as possible," he ventured.

"Oh! Not a word! Not a word till it's done."

"Yes, of course." He was drenched in an agitating satisfaction.

Five bells rang clear from the yacht, overmastering the thirty-six
variations.

Audrey thought:

"So he'd never agree, wouldn't he, Madame Piriac!"

CHAPTER XXXVII

AFLOAT

That night, which was an unusually dark night for the time of year, Audrey
left the yacht, alone, to fetch Jane Foley. She had made a provisional
plan with Jane and Aguilar, and the arrangement with Mr. Gilman had been of
the simplest, necessitating nothing save a brief order from the owner to
the woman whom Audrey could always amuse Mr. Gilman by calling the
"parlourmaid," but who was more commonly known as the stewardess. This
young married creature had prepared a cabin. For the rest little had been
said. The understanding between Mr. Gilman and Audrey was that Mrs.
Moncreiff should continue to exist, and that not a word as to the arrival
of Jane Foley should escape either of them until the deed was accomplished.
It is true that Madame Piriac knew of the probable imminence of the affair,
but Madame Piriac was discretion elegantly attired, and from the moment
they had left Flank Hall together she had been wise enough not even to
mention Jane Foley to Audrey. Madame Piriac appreciated the value of
ignorance in a questionable crisis. Mr. Gilman had been less guarded.
Indeed he had shown a tendency to discuss the coming adventure with Audrey
in remo