Yet, up to this very moment, Mrs. Curtis did not know the truth about Philip Holt. Just before they started for the train that was to bear them to Tom and Tania Madge told Mrs. Curtis that Philip had stolen the child from them and that they also believed he had run off with their treasure-chest.

Mrs. Curtis listened very quietly to Madge's story. When the little captain had finished she asked humbly, "Can you ever forgive me, dear? I am an obstinate and spoiled woman. If only I had listened to what you told me about Philip this sorrow would never have come to you. Tom also warned me that I was being deceived in Philip Holt. But I believed you were both prejudiced against him. When we recover Tania I shall try to make up to her the wrong I have done her, if it is ever possible."

During the journey Madge and Mrs. Curtis sat hand in hand. Captain Jules looked after Miss Jenny Ann, Lillian, Phil and Eleanor, although he was almost as excited by Tom's news as they were.

At the country station the chauffeur was waiting to drive Tania's friends to the lonely old farmhouse that the child had thought a dungeon.

Tom and Tania would probably be standing in the front yard when the automobile arrived. They were not there. The old farmer explained that Tom and Tania had gone out together. They would be back in a few minutes.

To tell the truth, the man did expect them to appear at any time. He could not believe that Tania was really lost, although Tom had been searching for her since early morning and it was now about four o'clock in the afternoon.

For two hours the houseboat party waited. The girls walked up and down the rickety farmhouse porch, clinging to Captain Jules. Mrs. Curtis and Miss Jenny Ann remained indoors. At dusk Tom returned. He was alone and could hardly drag one foot after the other, he was so weary and heartsick. To think that after wiring her he had found Tania he must face Madge with the dreadful news that the child was lost again!

Two long, weary days pa.s.sed without news of the lost Tania. The houseboat party made the old farmhouse their headquarters while conducting the search. At first no one thought to penetrate the cedar swamp where Tania had hidden herself, but the idea finally occurred to Tom Curtis, and on the third morning he and Captain Jules started out.

All that third anxious day the girls searched the immediate neighborhood for Tania. When evening came they gathered sadly in the wretched farmhouse, to await the return of Tom Curtis and the old sea captain.

Madge was lying on a rickety lounge, with her face buried in her hands.

Phyllis was sitting near the door. Mrs. Curtis stood at the window, watching for the return of her son. In a further corner of the room, Miss Jenny Ann, Lillian and Eleanor were talking softly together.

Suddenly each one of the sad women became aware of the captain's presence as his big form darkened the doorway. A ray of light from their single oil lamp shone across his weather-beaten face. Phil saw him most distinctly and read disaster in his glance. With the unselfish thought of others that invariably marks a great nature, she went swiftly across the room and dropped on her knees beside Madge.

Madge sprang from her lounge and stumbled across the room toward the old sailor. Phil kept close beside her.

"Tania!" whispered Madge faintly, for she too had seen the captain's face. "Where is my little Fairy G.o.dmother?"

"We have found Tania, Madge," said Captain Jules gently, "but she is very ill. We found her lying under a tree in the swamp, delirious with fever.

She is almost starved, and she is so frail--that----" The old man's voice broke.

"Don't say she is going to die, Captain Jules," implored Mrs. Curtis. "If she does, I shall feel that I am responsible. Surely, something can be done for her." The proud woman buried her face in her hands.

At that moment Tom entered, bearing in his arms a frail little figure, whose thin hands moved incessantly and whose black eyes were bright with fever.

With a cry of "Tania, dear little Fairy G.o.dmother, you mustn't, you shan't die!" Madge sprang to Tom's side and caught the little, restless hands in hers.

For an instant the black eyes looked recognition. "Madge," Tania said clearly, "he took me away--the Wicked Genii." Her voice trailed off into indistinct muttering.

"She must be rushed to a hospital at once." Captain Jules's calm voice roused the sorrowing friends of little Tania to action.

"I'll have my car at the door in ten minutes," declared Tom huskily.

"Make her as comfortable as you can for the journey."

It was in Captain Jules's strong arms that little Tania made the journey to a private sanatorium at Cape May. Madge sat beside the captain, her eyes fixed upon the little, dark head that lay against the captain's broad shoulder. The strong, magnetic touch of the old sailor seemed to quiet the fever-stricken child, and, for the first time since they had found her, Tania lay absolutely still in his arms.

Mrs. Curtis occupied the front seat with her son, who drove his car at a rate of speed that would have caused a traffic officer to hold up his hands in horror. It had been arranged that Tom should return to the farmhouse as soon as possible for the rest of the party.

No one of the occupants of the car ever forgot that ride. Once at the hospital, no time was lost in caring for Tania. The physician in attendance, however, would give them no satisfaction as to Tania's condition beyond the admission that it was very serious. Mrs. Curtis engaged the most expensive room in the hospital for the child, as well as a day and night nurse, and, surrounded by every comfort and the prayers of anxious and loving friends, Tania began her fight for life.

CHAPTER XXII

CAPTAIN JULES LISTENS TO A STORY

Tania did not die. After a few days the fever left her, but she was so weak and frail that the physician in charge of her case advised Mrs.

Curtis to allow her to remain in the sanatorium for at least a month.

When she should have sufficiently recovered Mrs. Curtis had decided to take upon herself the responsibility of the child's future. She had been a constant visitor in the sickroom and during the long hours she had spent with the imaginative little one had grown to love her, while Tania in turn adored the stately, white-haired woman and clung to her even as she did to Madge, a fact which pleased Mrs. Curtis more than she would admit.

Philip Holt was discovered hiding in New York City. The treasure-box was in the keeping of old Sal, for Philip had not dared to dispose of the coins or the jewelry while the detectives were on the lookout for him.

Tom Curtis saw that the case against Philip Holt was conducted very quietly. The houseboat girls had had enough trouble and excitement. Their treasure was restored to them and they had no desire ever to hear Philip Holt's name mentioned again.

Tom Curtis was more curious. In questioning Philip, Tom learned that he himself was innocently to blame for Philip's crime. Holt recalled to Tom the fact that, on returning from the houseboat after spending the evening with Captain Jules and his friends, Tom had mentioned to his mother that the precious iron safe was on the houseboat, and that if she cared to look at the old jewelry again Miss Jenny Ann would unlock the sideboard drawer and show it to her the next day. In that moment Philip Holt decided on his theft, but he did not expect Tania to thwart him. He had slipped through one of the open staterooms into the dining room of the houseboat, broken the lock of the sideboard and opened the dining room door from the inside to make his escape. Philip Holt believed that in taking Tania with him he had accomplished his own downfall.

If he had not stopped to leave the child at the deserted farmhouse, his movements would never have been traced.

Madge Morton was a good deal changed by the events of the last few weeks.

She was so unlike her usual happy, light-hearted and impetuous self that Miss Jenny Ann and the houseboat girls were worried about her. They ardently wished that Madge would fly into a temper again just to show she possessed her old spirit. But she was very gentle and quiet and liked to spend a good deal of the time alone.

Miss Jenny Ann consulted with Lillian, Phil and Eleanor. They decided to write to David Brewster to ask him to come to spend a few days with them on the houseboat. Madge was fond of David and the young man had done such fine things for himself in the past year that her friends hoped a sight of him would stir her out of her depression.

David was visiting Mrs. Randolph--"Miss Betsey"--in Hartford. He replied that he would try to come to Cape May in another week or ten days, but please not to mention the fact to Madge until he was more sure of coming.

One bright summer afternoon Madge returned alone from a long motor ride with Mrs. Curtis and Tom. She found the houseboat entirely deserted and remembered that the girls and Miss Jenny Ann had had an engagement to go sailing. She curled up on the big steamer chair and gave herself over to dreams.

A small boat, pulled by a pair of strong arms, came along close to the deck of the "Merry Maid." Madge looked up to see Captain Jules's faithful face beaming at her.

"All alone?" he called out cheerfully. "Come for a row with me. I'll get you back before tea."

Madge wanted to refuse, but she hardly knew how, so she slipped into the prow of the skiff and sat there idly facing him.

Captain Jules frowned at the girl's pale face, which looked even paler under the loose twists of her soft auburn hair. Madge looked older and more womanly than she had the day the captain first saw her. There was a deeper meaning to the upper curves of her full, red lips and a gentler sweep to the downward droop of her heavy, black lashes. She was fulfilling the promise of the great beauty that was to be hers. It was easy to see that she had the charm that would make her life full of interest.

Still Captain Jules frowned as though the picture of Madge and her future did not please him.

"How much longer are you going to stay at Cape May, Miss Morton?" he inquired.

Madge smiled at him. "I don't know anything about 'Miss Morton's' plans, but Madge expects to be here for about two weeks more."

Recently the captain had been calling the houseboat girls by their first names, as he was with them so constantly in their trouble. But he had now decided that he must return to the formality of the beginning of their acquaintance. It was best to do so.

"And afterward?" the old sailor questioned, pretending that he was really not greatly interested in Madge's reply.

The girl's expression changed. "I don't know," she returned. "Of course, Eleanor and I will go back to 'Forest House' for a while. Aren't you glad that Uncle has been able to pay off the mortgage? When Nellie and Lillian go to Miss Tolliver's and Phil to college I don't know exactly what I shall do. Mrs. Curtis and Tom have asked me to make them a visit in New York next winter."

The captain frowned again. It was well that Madge was looking over the water and not at him, for she never could have told why he looked so displeased.

"You and Tom Curtis are very good friends, aren't you, Madge?" said Captain Jules abruptly.