"Quite, thank you, sir," answered Dean, and went off buoyantly.

In the afternoon Olaf was sailing his yacht on deck on the new set of wheels made for him by the ship's carpenter, while his father sat stretched in a long deck-chair watching him tenderly and weaving dreams for his future. The thought crossed his mind--not for the first time--whether it wouldn't be advisable to get a stepmother for the boy.

Larssen had a strong intuitive feeling that he would not live to old age, and he wanted to know that the boy would have someone to care for him and to stand behind him while he was seating himself firmly on his father's throne.

Specifically, the shipowner was reviewing Olive as a possible stepmother. There was no sc.r.a.p of pa.s.sion in his thoughts. He was viewing the matter as a business proposition, weighing the pros and cons calmly and cool-bloodedly. Would Olive be the right stepmother for the boy? She was of good family, with influential connections. She made a fine presence as a hostess. Her ambition was undoubted. Even the trifling point of the similarity between Olive's name and that of his boy impressed him, by some curious twist of mind, as favourable.

"Dad, look at me!" called out Olaf. "I've made some buoys, and now I'm going to sail her round a racing course."

He had run needles through three corks, and planted them in the pitch-seams of the deck to form the three points of a large triangle, in imitation of the buoys of a yacht-race course.

"This buoy is Sandy Hook, and this one is the Fastnet, and that one over there is Gibraltar."

"Good!" said the shipowner. "I'll time the race." He took out his watch.

"Are you ready?... Go!"

When the course was completed and the yacht lay at anchor again at Sandy Hook, Larssen called his son to the seat at his side.

"Do you remember much of your mother?" he asked.

The boy's face clouded over. "I don't know. Sometimes I seem to see her very plainly, and sometimes again I don't seem to see her at all when I try to. Was mother very beautiful?"

"Very beautiful, to me," a.s.sented the shipowner.

"I think I should have loved her very much."

"How would you like to have a new mother?"

Olaf thought this over in silence for some time.

"It depends," he ventured at length.

"Depends on what?"

"I don't know. I must see her. Then I could tell you."

"You care for the idea?"

"I must see her first."

"Yes, that's right. Well, Sonny, as soon as we're in London I'll take you to see her. But remember this: don't breathe a word of it to anyone.

Keep a tight mouth. That's what a business man has always got to learn."

"Why?"

"Because silence in the right place means big money."

Olaf reflected over the new problem for some time.

"Dad," he said presently, "I'd like her to like me very much. And I'd like her to be a good sailor."

Larssen smiled at the nave requirement.

"Is that very important?"

"Yes. You see, I want her to live with us on a yacht, and some women are so ill whenever they go on board a boat."

"Which do you like best: the country, or a big city, or the sea?"

"The sea--the sea! I hate a big city. The crowds of people make me feel...." He groped about for a word which would express his feeling " ... make me feel so lonely."

"You'll have to overcome that. One day your work will lie in controlling crowds of people."

"Dad, let me stay on a yacht till I get quite well again!"

Larssen considered for a moment. "Well, if it will help you to get your fighting muscle, I'll arrange it. There's a small cruising yacht of mine--the 'Starlight'--lying in Southampton Water. I might have her cruise about the Channel for you."

"Thank you, Dad, I'd like that immensely."

"Yes, I'll see to that. We must go up to London for a few days, and meanwhile I'll arrange to have the 'Starlight' put in order for you."

"Can I be captain of the yacht?"

"That's the spirit I want! But you can't be captain at a jump. You must work your way up. First you'll have to work for your mate's ticket. I'll tell the captain to put you through your paces--give you your trick at the wheel and so on. But see here, Sonny, it'll be work and not play.

You'll have to obey orders just as if you were a new apprentice."

"I love the sea! I'll work right enough."

Larssen grew grave with memories. "Work? You'll never know work as I knew it. At fourteen I was a drudge on a Banks trawler. Kicked and punched and fed on the leavings of the fo'castle. Hands skinned raw with hauling on the dredge-ropes----"

A deck steward bearing a wireless telegram came to interrupt them. The message was from Olive, and it read:

"Important developments. Come to see me as soon as you arrive."

Larssen scribbled an answer and handed it to the steward for despatch.

The boy was thinking over the coming cruise of the "Starlight." Suddenly he exclaimed: "I've got an idea! Invite her on board my yacht!"

Larssen smiled. "That's a very practical test for her!" he said.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE REINS HAD SLIPPED

The Italian garden at Thornton Chase was perfect in its artificiality.