There was a very strong instinct of fair play in Bunny Brian, and, now that he had won his point, he was assailed by a grave doubt as to whether he were acting fairly towards the girl.  She was young, but then many girls marry young.  It was not really her youth that mattered; neither, when he came to sift the matter, was it the fact that she had had so little opportunity of seeing the world.  But it was something in Toby’s eyes, something in Sheila’s manner, that gave him pause.  He asked himself, scarcely knowing why, if it would not be fairer after all to wait.

He wished that he could have consulted Jake, but yet it would have been difficult to put his misgivings into definite words.  Jake was a brick and understood most things, but he was away for another week at least.

The thought of the girl’s father crossed his mind, only to be instantly dismissed.  Even if he had been within reach, Captain Larpent’s sternly unapproachable exterior would have held him back.  He was inclined to like the man, but he could not feel that Toby’s welfare was, or ever had been, of paramount importance to him.  He had thoughts only for his yacht.

Bunny began to reflect moodily that life was a more complicated affair than he had ever before imagined, and, reaching this point, he also reached the gate by the copse and became aware of cigar-smoke dominating the atmosphere above the scent of his own now burnt-out pipe.

He removed the pipe from his mouth and looked around him.

“Hullo!” said a voice he knew.  “Do I intrude?”

Saltash stepped suddenly out of the shadow of the larches and met him with outstretched hand.

“Hullo!” said Bunny, with a start.

A quick smile of welcome lighted his face, and Saltash’s eyes flashed in answer.  He gripped the boy’s hand with fingers that closed like springs.

“What are you doing here?” he said.

“Just what I was going to ask you,” said Bunny.  “I often come here in the evening.  It’s my favourite look-out.  But you—­”

“I do the same for the same reason,” said Saltash.

“I thought you were far away on the high seas,” said Bunny.

Saltash laughed.  “Well, I was.  But I don’t stay there, my good Bunny. The Blue Moon developed engine trouble—­nothing very serious, but we brought her back to recuperate.  You can never tell what you may be in for on a first voyage.  Also, I was curious to see how affairs here were progressing.  How goes it, mon ami?  Is all well?”

“Well enough,” said Bunny.

Saltash linked a friendly hand in his arm.  “Have you and Nonette settled when to get married yet?”

Bunny stiffened momentarily, as if his instinct were to resent the kindly enquiry.  But the next instant he relaxed again with impulsive confidence.  “Well, it is more or less settled,” he said.  “But I’m wondering—­you know, Charlie, she’s rather young to be married, isn’t she?  She hasn’t seen much of the world so far.  You don’t think it’s shabby, do you, to marry her before she’s had the same sort of chances as other girls?”