Tania was playing alone on the sands near that houseboat at the time Mrs.

Curtis and Philip Holt were discussing her future. Madge and Miss Jenny Ann were inside the houseboat, within calling distance of Tania, but not where they could see her. The little girl had just built a house of shining pebbles and was gazing at it with a pleased smile when she heard a step near her on the sand. Tania stared up at Philip's thin, blonde face in terror-stricken silence.

"Tania," the young man asked harshly, "have you told any one down here that you have ever seen or known me before?"

Tania shook her head mutely.

"Remember, if you do, I am going to have you shut up in a big house with iron bars at the windows where you can never go out or see your friends any more," Philip Holt went on, keeping his voice lowered to a whisper.

Slowly Tania's black eyes dropped. She tried to be brave and to pretend that she did not care, but the loss of her freedom was the one thing that Tania feared with all her soul. If she were shut up somewhere, how could she ever talk to her fairies, or see the blue sky that she so loved? And now, to be parted from the girls forever was too dreadful! Indeed, she would not dare to tell what she knew. Philip Holt was sure of it.

It was at that moment that Madge slipped out on the houseboat deck to see if Tania were all right. To her surprise she saw that Philip Holt was talking to the little girl. She had not thought that Philip Holt cared enough for children to waste a minute's time with them. She therefore wondered at his sudden interest in Tania. Madge walked quietly off the houseboat. She was wearing tennis shoes and her softly-shod feet made no sound. She caught one glimpse of Tania's mute, white face and stopped short in time to hear Philip say:

"Even if you do tell that old Sal is my mother, Tania, no one will believe you. She herself will deny it and help me to have you shut up,"

declared Philip Holt menacingly.

Madge caught each word as though it had been addressed to her. For Tania's sake, and because she knew that for many reasons it was wiser, she held her peace for the time being.

"How do you do, Mr. Holt?" she asked innocently. "I just saw you from the deck of the houseboat."

Philip Holt leaped to his feet. But Madge's eyes were so clear and serene, her face so calm, that it was utterly impossible she could have overheard him.

Philip delivered Mrs. Curtis's message and then left the two girls together. Madge dropped down on the sands by Tania and put her arm about her. "You need never tell me who Mr. Holt is, nor why you are afraid of him, Tania," she whispered; "I overheard what he said, and you need not be afraid. I will take care of you!"

"He is the Wicked Genii," faltered Tania, "who hated the Princess and wanted to drive her away from her kingdom in Fairyland."

"But he can't harm you, Tania, dear," comforted Madge. "He dare not try to take you away from us. I am going to tell Mrs. Curtis all about this Wicked Genii and if I'm not mistaken it will be he, not you who is sent away."

CHAPTER XIV

CAPTAIN JULES MAKES A PROMISE

Little by little Madge was able to put together the whole story of Philip Holt's life. He was old Sal's son, and "Holt" was not his own name, but he rarely came near his mother, never gave her any help, and denied his relationship with her whenever it was necessary. When Philip Murphy was a small boy, he had been taken into the home of a wealthy family named Holt, but he had never been legally adopted as their child. He was raised in luxury and had made a great many wealthy friends, and he had learned to love money more than anything else in the world. But his rich patrons would not allow him entirely to desert his own mother. Twice every month he was made to go to see old Sal Murphy in her tenement home on the East Side. Philip Holt, who now went by the name of his foster parents, fairly loathed these visits. It was because of his hatred of them that he began to take his spite out on Tania when he was a lad of about fifteen, and poor Tania a baby of only six years old.

Tania's mother had died in the same tenement where old Sal lived. There had been no one who wanted the little girl, so old Sal had taken her, beaten and starved her, and made her useful in any way that she could.

When Philip Holt had grown to manhood his foster parents lost most of their money. A little later they died, leaving their foster son nothing.

The young man had been used to luxury and rich friends, and he could not give them up, therefore he told his wealthy friends that because he had once been a poor boy he meant to devote his life to charity. He proposed to work among the New York poor and asked their cooperation. Large sums of money were given him to be used for charity, but Philip Holt believed too strongly in the theory that charity begins at home. Whenever it was possible he used a part of this money for himself. To make more, he began speculating in Wall Street. He lost two thousand, then five thousand dollars of the money that had been entrusted to him. For almost a year he had been the treasurer of a New York charitable organization, and the time was near at hand when he must give a report of the money that he had misused. He knew that disgrace, imprisonment, stared him in the face unless he could persuade Mrs. Curtis to advance him five thousand dollars for some charitable purpose, or give it to him for himself. He, therefore, did not intend to be balked in his plan by either Madge or Tania, no matter what desperate measures he had to employ.

So there were two persons at Cape May who came to believe that they stood in dire need of money. Yet they wished it for very different reasons: Philip Holt wanted money to save himself from disgrace; Madge desired it to help her uncle and aunt save their old home, "Forest House," to send Eleanor back to graduate at Miss Tolliver's in the fall, to start on her search for her father, and, last of all, to take care of Tania.

For Madge had managed the little waif's affairs most undiplomatically.

When she discovered the threat that Philip held over Tania if she told his secret, the little captain went to Mrs. Curtis with the story. She did not wish her friend to be deceived by the young man, so she confided to Mrs. Curtis that Philip Holt, who was supposedly the son of some old friends, was really the child of old Sal of the tenements. Mrs. Curtis thought that Madge must be mistaken. She wrote to old Sal to ask her if it were true. The Irish woman was devoted to her son. She would have done anything in the world not to disgrace him. She answered Mrs. Curtis's letter by declaring that Philip Holt was no relative of hers, but a young man whom she knew because of his kindness to the poor. Mrs. Curtis was indignant. She insisted that Tania had told Madge a falsehood, and that Philip Holt was right in his opinion of Tania. It would not be well to send the child to a school; she should be put in some kind of an inst.i.tution. This, however, Madge was determined should never happen. She had no money of her own, nor did she know where she was to obtain the means, but she made up her mind to find some way to provide for her quaint little Fairy G.o.dmother.

The morning after Madge's disquieting talk with Mrs. Curtis the four girls and Tania wandered up the bay to spend the morning in the woods near the water. Phyllis carried a book that she meant to read aloud, Madge a box of luncheon, and Eleanor and Lillian their sewing. Tania skipped along with her hand in Madge's. John had promised to join them later in the day if he returned in time from his trip on the water.

The girls settled themselves under some trees whence they could command a view of the land and the bay. Madge lay down in the soft gra.s.s and rested her head in her hands. She meant to listen to Phil's reading, not to puzzle over her own worries. Phil's book gave a thrilling account of the early days in the Delaware Bay, when it was the favorite cruising place for pirates. It was rather hard to believe, when the girls gazed out on the smooth, blue water, that it had once been the scene of so many fierce adventures with pirates. Once a crew of seventy men, belonging to the famous Captain Kidd, had actually sailed up the Delaware Bay and frightened the people of Philadelphia.

Madge had forgotten to listen. She could hear Phil's voice, but not her words. The history of piracy, of course, was very thrilling, but Madge did not see how any long-ago dead and buried pirates or their hidden treasures could help her out of her present difficulties. She stood in need of real riches.

A sailboat dipped across the horizon and headed for the landing not far from where the girls were sitting, but no one of them noticed it.

"Look ahoy! look ahoy!" a friendly voice cried out from across the water.

Phyllis closed her book with a snap, Lillian and Eleanor dropped their sewing, Tania ran to the water's edge, and Madge sat up.

It was Captain Jules who had hailed them.

"Well, my hearties, is this a summer camp?" demanded the old sailor as his boat came near the land. "I have been all the way to the houseboat to find you. I have something to show you." Captain Jules's broad face shone with good humor. He was clad in his weather-beaten tarpaulins, and on his shoulder perched the monkey.

Madge covered the sides of her curly head with her hands. "Please don't let the monkey pull my hair this morning," she pleaded as the captain came up.

He tossed the monkey over to Tania, who cuddled it affectionately in her arms, and began talking softly to it.

Then Captain Jules seated himself on the gra.s.s and the houseboat girls gathered about him in a circle. He put one great hand in his pocket.

"I've some presents for you," he announced, trying to look very serious, but smiling in spite of himself.

"What are they?" asked Lillian eagerly.

"That's telling," returned the captain. "You must guess."

"Sh.e.l.ls," said Tania quickly.

Captain Jules shook his head. "You're warm, little girl," he replied, "but you haven't guessed right yet."

Lillian sighed. "I never could guess anything," she remarked sadly.

"Please do tell us what it is."

The captain relented and drew out of his pocket a handful of what seemed to be either oyster or mussel sh.e.l.ls.

"You've brought some oysters for our luncheon, haven't you?" guessed Eleanor. "You must stay and eat them with us."

Captain Jules chuckled. "Oysters are out of season, child, and these are never good to eat."

But Madge had clapped her hands together suddenly, her eyes shining. "You have been down to the bottom of the bay, haven't you, Captain Jules? And you've found some pearls!"

Captain Jules shook his head. "I wouldn't call them pearls, exactly.

They're too little and too poor. But come, now; maybe they are seed pearls. I went down under the water with the men who were looking over the oyster beds yesterday. Pearl oysters are not found in beds, like the edible oysters, so I wandered around on the bottom of the bay a bit and picked up these." The captain extended his great hand. Five pairs of eager eyes peered into it. There lay four nearly round, thick sh.e.l.ls, h.o.r.n.y and rough with tiny little pearls embedded in them.

"'Pearls are angel's tears'," quoted Phil softly.

Captain Jules seemed worried. "I searched about everywhere in the bay, but I could only find these four tiny pearls, and pretty lucky I was to find them!" the sailor continued. "They aren't of much value, but I wanted to give them to five girls, and that's just the difficulty." The captain looked at the houseboat party, which now included Tania, as though he did not know just what he should make up his mind to do.

"Let's draw straws for them," suggested Eleanor sensibly.