m white boat came gliding up to the prow of the
_Seamaid_. Ralph Wonderson, a tall athletic figure in his immaculate
flannels and straw boater, poised himself on the gunwale, gathered
himself for a spring, and leaped with the agility of a cat to the
bowsprit of the yacht. Sliding rapidly down this, he nodded easily to
Lord Tamerton and clasped the beautiful figure of Lady Margaret in his
arms.

"S-sh!" he whispered warningly, laying his fingers on her lips, as she
would have spoken. "Nobody must know I am here till to-morrow. That is
why I came aboard like that. Listen. Your cousin, Sir Ernest Scrivener,
_alias_ Marmaduke Moorsdyke, is here, and is plotting to kidnap you.
There is a traitor somewhere on this yacht who supplies him with all
information. The attempt is to be made to-night."

"To-night!" murmured Lady Margaret in horror. "What am I to do? His
ingenuity is dev--er--fiendish."

"It shall be baffled," replied Ralph reassuringly. "I have thought it
all out. It would be dangerous for you to leave the yacht because, in
view of to-morrow's race, neither your brother nor I could accompany
you. There is only one place on board where you can pass the night in
assured safety--the crow's-nest."

"The crow's-nest," repeated Lady Margaret, clapping her hands. "What
fun! I shall be rocked to sleep beautifully, and of _course_ they will
never think of looking for me there."

"Come," said Ralph, taking her hand. "There is no time to lose, and none
of the crew must be allowed to see you. We don't know whom we can
trust."

Snatching her in his arms, he carried her easily up the frail rigging,
his mountain training showing in every step he took. Five minutes later
he returned alone and dropped noiselessly to the deck. He looked round
cautiously; there was nobody in view except Lord Tamerton.

"It's all right, Fred," he whispered. "Let us turn in."

They descended the broad staircase arm-in-arm. No sooner had they
disappeared than a dark figure crept with a low chuckle from underneath
a coil of rope and dropped silently over the yacht's counter.

A phosphorescent gleam disturbed the darkness of the water.

***

Early next morning Ralph Wonderson ran nimbly up the rigging of the
_Seamaid_, carrying a tray loaded with toast, eggs, tea and marmalade.
He tapped at the door of the crow's-nest. There was no response. After a
pause he tapped again and cautiously pushed open the door. The
crow's-nest was empty!