Maud turned to the girl. "I don't think we have ever met before," she said. "Is this your first visit to Fairharbour?"

"My first visit, yes." Sheila leaned forward. She was a pretty girl of two-and-twenty with a quant.i.ty of soft dark hair and grey eyes that held a friendly smile. "We don't go to the sea much in the summer as a rule.

We get so much of it in the winter. Dad always winters in the South. It only seems a few weeks since we came back from Valrosa."

Maud was conscious of an abrupt jerk from Toby on her other side, and she laid a hand on her arm with the kindly intention of drawing her into the conversation. But the next instant feeling tension under her hand, she turned to look at her, and was surprised to see that Toby was staring out across the field with wide, strained eyes. She looked so white that Maud had a moment of sharp anxiety.

"Is anything the matter, dear?" she whispered.

An odd little tremor went through Toby. She spoke with an effort. "I thought he was off his pony that time, didn't you?"

She kept her eyes upon Bunny who was coming back triumphant.

Maud smiled. "Oh, I don't think there is much danger of that. Miss Melrose was talking about Valrosa. You were there too last winter, weren't you?"

The colour mounted in Toby's face. She turned almost defiantly. "Just for a day or two. I was at school at Geneva. I went there to join my father."

"I was at school at Geneva a few years ago," said Sheila Melrose. "You didn't go to Mademoiselle Denise, I suppose?"

"No," said Toby briefly. "Madame Beaumonde."

"I never heard of her," said Sheila. "It must have been after I left."

Toby nodded. "I wasn't there long. I've never been anywhere long. But I've left school now, and I'm going to do as I like."

"A very wise resolution!" commented a laughing voice behind her. "It's one of the guiding principles of my life."

All the party turned, Toby with a quick exclamation m.u.f.fled at birth.

Saltash, attired in a white yachting suit and looking more than usually distinguished in his own fantastic fashion, stood with his hand on the back of Toby's chair.

"Quite a gathering of old friends!" he declared, smiling impartially upon all.

General Melrose stretched a welcoming hand to him. "Hullo, Saltash! Where on earth have you sprung from? Or are you fallen straight out of the skies?"

"Like Lucifer, son of the morning!" laughed Saltash. "Well, I haven't sprung and I haven't fallen. I have simply arrived."

Toby was on her feet. "Come and sit down!" she said in a low voice.

He shook his head. "No, no, _ma cherie_. I will stand behind you. Miss Melrose, my humble regards to you. Is the black mark still against my name?"

Sheila looked at him with a touch of _hauteur_ that somehow melted into a smile. She had learnt her lesson at Valrosa, and there was nothing to add thereto. This man was never in earnest, and he had never intended her to think him so.

"I banned you as bold and bad long ago," she said. "I don't remember that you have done anything to change the impression."

He laughed lightly, enigmatically. "Nothing in your presence, I fear. The Fates have always been sportive so far as I was concerned. But really I'm not such a bad sort now-a-days, am I, Mrs. Bolton?"

Maud smiled upon him. "Not so bad, I think. But please don't ask me to be your sponsor! I really couldn't play the part."

"Ask me!" said Toby suddenly, with flushed face up-raised. "He saved my life when _The Night Moth_ went down, when most men would only have bothered to save their own."

"What a libel!" laughed Saltash. "Don't you know I only hung on to you because you had a life-belt on!"

"Oh, naturally!" said the General. "That would be your motive. I was sorry to hear about _The Night Moth_, but you had a lucky escape."

"I always escape somehow," remarked Saltash complacently. "_The Night Moth_ wanted new engines too, that's one consolation. I've just bought another," he added, suddenly touching Toby's shoulder. "Your daddy is quite pleased with her. We've just come round from London in her."

"Oh, have you?" Eagerly Toby's eyes came up to his, "What is she like?

What are you going to call her?"

"She isn't christened yet. I'm going to hold a reception on board, and Maud shall perform the ceremony. I'm calling her _The Blue Moon_--unless you can suggest something better." Saltash's restless look went to Maud.

"I wanted to call her after you," he said lightly, "But I was afraid Jake might object."

"I think _The Blue Moon_ is much more suitable," she answered. "Is she as rare as she sounds?"

"She's rather a fine article," he made answer. "You must come and see her--come and cruise in her if you will. She's only just off the slips. I was lucky to get her. She skims along like a bird."

"Why not call her _The Blue Bird_?" suggested Sheila.

He shook his head with his odd grimace. "That is a thing I can never hope to possess, Miss Melrose. The blue moon may occur once in my life if I am exceptionally virtuous, but the blue bird never. I have ceased to hope for it." His glance flashed beyond her. "Young Bunny is distinguishing himself to-day. That was a fine effort."

Everyone was clapping except Toby who was staring before her with her hands in her lap. Her blue eyes were very wide open, but they did not seem to be watching the game.

"It will fly to you, _cherie_," suddenly whispered a voice in her ear.

"It is already upon the wing."

A little tremor went through her, but she did not turn her head. Only after a moment she slipped a hand behind her through the back of her chair.

Wiry fingers closed upon it, gripped it, let it go. "When it comes to you, hold it fast!" came the rapid whisper. _"Il ne vient pas deux fois--l'oiseau bleu."_

Toby's lip trembled. She bit it desperately. Her look was strained. She did not attempt to speak.

"It is the gift of the G.o.ds, _cherie_." The words came softly at her shoulder, but they pierced her. "We do not cast their gifts away. They come--too seldom."

She made a quick movement; it was almost convulsive, like the start of one suddenly awakened. A hard breath went through her, and then she was laughing, laughing and clapping with the rest, her eyes upon the boyish, triumphant figure in front of her. When the applause died away, Saltash had departed, abruptly as was his wont. And though they saw him in the distance several times, he did not return that afternoon.

CHAPTER IV

THE TRAP

It was an evening of golden silence, and the larch copse in its stillness was like an enchanted wood. Now and then something moved in the undergrowth with a swift rustle or a blackbird raised a long ripple of alarm. But for the most part all was still. No breeze came up the hillside, and in the west a long black line of cloud lay like a barrier across the sun, so that great rays slanted out over land and sea, transforming all things with their radiance.

A soft low whistle broke the stillness or mingled with it. A s.n.a.t.c.h of melody came like the strains of a fairy pipe from the edge of the larch wood. Again there came a sharp movement in some long gra.s.s near the gate that led from the open down into the Burchester estate. It sounded as if some small imprisoned creature were fighting for freedom. Then in another moment there came the rush and snuffle of a questing dog, and old Chops the setter came bursting through the hedge that bordered the wood.

He flung himself through the long gra.s.s with an agility that belied his advancing years, and in an instant there arose a cry that seemed to thrill the whole wood with horror. The enchanted silence broke upon it like the shivering of a crystal ball, for as Chops pounced another cry rang clear and commanding from the other side of the hedge.