“Not your legal opinion,” she replied, smiling, “but your opinion as a citizen, as an individual, if you have one.  To be frank, I want your opinion of me.  Do you happen to have such a thing?”

I had.  But I was in no condition to give it.

“Do you think me a very wicked girl?” she asked, coloring.  “You once thought me inconsistent, I believe, but I am not that.  Have I done wrong in leading the Celebrity to the point where you saw him this morning?”

“Heaven forbid!” I cried fervently; “but you might have spared me a great deal had you let me into the secret.”

“Spared you a great deal,” said Miss Thorn.  “I—­I don’t quite understand.”

“Well—­” I began, and there I stayed.  All the words in the dictionary seemed to slip out of my grasp, and I foundered.  I realized I had said something which even in my wildest moments I had not dared to think of.  My secret was out before I knew I possessed it.  Bad enough had I told it to Farrar in an unguarded second.  But to her!  I was blindly seeking some way of escape when she said softly: 

“Did you really care?”

I am man enough, I hope, when there is need to be.  And it matters not what I felt then, but the words came back to me.

“Marian,” I said, “I cared more than you will ever learn.”

But it seems that she had known all the time, almost since that night I had met her at the train.  And how?  I shall not pretend to answer, that being quite beyond me.  I am very sure of one thing, however, which is that I never told a soul, man or woman, or even hinted at it.  How was it possible when I didn’t know myself?

The light in the west was gone as we were pulled into Far Harbor, and the lamps of the little town twinkled brighter than I had ever seen them before.  I think they must have been reflected in our faces, since Miss Trevor, when she came forward to look for us, saw something there and openly congratulated us.  And this most embarrassing young woman demanded presently: 

“How did it happen, Marian?  Did you propose to him?”

I was about to protest indignantly, but Marian laid her hand on my arm.

“Tell it not in Asquith,” said she.  “Irene, I won’t have him teased any more.”

We were drawing up to the dock, and for the first time I saw that a crowd was gathered there.  The report of this chase had gone abroad.  Some began calling out to McCann when we came within distance, among others the editor of the Northern Lights, and beside him I perceived with amusement the generous lines:  of the person of Mr. O’Meara himself.  I hurried back to give Farrar a hand with the ropes, and it was O’Meara who caught the one I flung ashore and wound it around a pile.  The people pressed around, peering at our party on the Maria, and I heard McCann exhorting them to make way.  And just then, as he was about to cross the plank, they parted for some one from behind.  A breathless messenger halted at the edge of the wharf.  He held out a telegram.