“We sail for New York on the fastest boat,” said Monty, and hurried off to learn the sailings and book his party.  The first boat was to sail on the 30th and he could only secure accommodations for twelve of his guests.  The rest were obliged to follow a week later.  This was readily agreed to and Bragdon was left to see to the necessary repairs on the “Flitter” and arrange for her homeward voyage.  Monty gave Bragdon fifteen thousand dollars for the purpose and extracted a solemn promise that the entire amount would be used.

“But it won’t cost half of this,” protested Bragdon.

“You will have to give these people a good time during the week and—­well—­you have promised that I shall never see another penny of it.  Some day you’ll know why I do this,” and Monty felt easier when his friend agreed to abide by his wishes.

He discharged the “Flitter’s” crew, with five months’ pay and the reward promised on the night of Peggy’s rescue, which was productive of touching emotions.  Captain Perry and his officers never forgot the farewell of the prodigal, nor could they hide the regret that marked their weather-beaten faces.

Plans to dispose of his household goods and the balance of his cash in the short time that would be left after he arrived in New York occupied Monty’s attention, and most men would have given up the scheme as hopeless.  But he did not despair.  He was still game, and he prepared for the final plunge with grim determination.

“There should have been a clause in Jones’s conditions about ‘weather permitting,’” he said to himself.  “A shipwrecked mariner should not be expected to spend a million dollars.”

The division of the party for the two sailings was tactfully arranged by Mrs. Dan DeMille.  The Valentines chaperoned the “second table” as “Subway” Smith called those who were to take the later boat, and she herself looked after the first lot.  Peggy Gray and Monty Brewster were in the DeMille party.  The three days in England were marked by unparalleled extravagance on Monty’s part.  One of the local hotels was subsidized for a week, although the party only stayed for luncheon, and the Cecil in London was a gainer by several thousand dollars for the brief stop there.  It was a careworn little band that took Monty’s special train for Southampton and embarked two days later.  The “rest cure” that followed was welcome to all of them and Brewster was especially glad that his race was almost run.

Swiftly and steadily the liner cut down the leagues that separated her from New York.  Fair weather and fair cheer marked her course, and the soft, balmy nights were like seasons of fairyland.  Monty was cherishing in his heart the hope inspired by Peggy’s action on the night of the storm.  Somehow it brought a small ray of light to his clouded understanding and he found joy in keeping the flame alive religiously if somewhat doubtfully.  His eyes followed her constantly, searching for the encouragement that the very blindness of love had hidden from him, forever tormenting himself with fears and hopes and fears again.  Her happiness and vivacity puzzled him—­he was often annoyed, he was now and then seriously mystified.