tooped and kissed the slim hand lying outside the blanket.

"Now and always," he answered gravely.

When Magda awoke, seven hours later, the sunlight was streaming into the
cabin. She could hear Michael moving about the deck, and she sprang
up and proceeded to make such toilette as was possible in the
circumstances, taking down her hair and dressing it afresh at the tiny
looking-glass hung on the wall. She had barely completed the operation
when she heard Michael give a shout.

"Ahoy! Ahoy there!"

She ran up on deck. Approaching them was a small steam-tug, and once
again Quarrington sent his voice ringing lustily across the water, while
he flourished a large white handkerchief in the endeavour to attract the
attention of those on board.

Suddenly the tug saw them and, altering her course, came fussing up
alongside. Quarrington briefly explained their predicament--in the face
of the _Bella Donna's_ battered appearance a lengthy explanation was
hardly necessary--and a few minutes later the tug was steaming for
Netherway harbour, towing the crippled yacht behind her.

CHAPTER XXI

THE OTHER MAN

"Please, Marraine, will you give us your blessing?"

The joyous excitement and relief incidental to the safe return of the
voyagers had spent itself at last, and now, refreshed and invigorated
by a hot bath and by a meal of more varied constituents than biscuit
and plain chocolate, Magda propounded her question, a gleam of mirth
glancing in her eyes.

Lady Arabella glanced doubtfully from one to the other. Then a look of
undisguised satisfaction dawned in her face.

"Do you mean----" she began eagerly.

"We've been and gone and got engaged," explained Quarrington.

"My dears!" Lady Arabella jumped up with the agility of twenty rather
than seventy and proceeded to pour out her felicitations. Incidentally
she kissed everybody all round, including Quarrington, and her keen old
hawk's eyes grew all soft and luminous like a girl's.

Coppertop was hugely excited.

"Will the wedding be to-morrow?" he asked hopefully. "And shall I be a
page and carry the Fairy Lady's train?"

Magda smiled at him.

"Of course you shall be a page, Topkins. But the wedding won't be quite
as soon as to-morrow," she told him.

"Why not?" insinuated Quarrington calmly. "There are such things as
special licences, you know."

"Don't be silly," replied Magda scathingly. "I've only just been saved
from drowning, and I don't propose