The surprise and apprehension created amongst us by her sudden appearance was such that none of us, for a space, spoke or moved.  She was about a mile off shore, but it was even whether the chief would decide that his quarry had been left behind in the inlet and turn in, or whether he would push ahead after the yacht.  He gave us an abominable five minutes of uncertainty.  For when he came opposite the cove he slowed up, apparently weighing his chances.  It was fortunate that we were hidden from his glasses by a copse of pines.  The Sinclair increased her speed and pushed northward after the Maria.  I turned to the Celebrity.

“If you wish to escape, now is your chance,” I said.

For contrariness he was more than I have ever had to deal with.  Now he crossed his knees and laughed.

“It strikes me you had better escape, Crocker,” said he.  “You have more to run for.”

I looked across at Miss Thorn.  She had told him, then, of my predicament.  And she did not meet my eye.  He began to whittle again, and remarked: 

“It is only seventeen miles or so across these hills to Far Harbor, old chap, and you can get a train there for Asquith.”

“Just as you choose,” said I, shortly.

With that I started off to gain the top of the promontory in order to watch the chase.  I knew that this could not last as long as that of the day before.  In less than three hours we might expect the Maria and the tug in the cove.  And, to be frank, the indisposition of the Celebrity to run troubled me.  Had he come to the conclusion that it was just as well to submit to what seemed the inevitable and so enjoy the spice of revenge over me?  My thoughts gave zest to my actions, and I was climbing the steep, pine-clad slope with rapidity when I heard Miss Trevor below me calling out to wait for her.  At the point of our ascent the ridge of the tongue must have been four hundred feet above the level of the water, and from this place of vantage we could easily make out the Maria in the distance, and note from time to time the gain of the Sinclair.

“It wasn’t fair of me, I know, to leave Marian,” said Miss Trevor, apologetically, “but I simply couldn’t resist the temptation to come up here.”

“I hardly think she will bear you much ill will,” I answered dryly; “you did the kindest thing possible.  Who knows but what they are considering the advisability of an elopement!”

We passed a most enjoyable morning up there, all things taken into account, for the day was too perfect for worries.  We even laughed at our hunger, which became keen about noon, as is always the case when one has nothing to eat; so we set out to explore the ridge for blackberries.  These were so plentiful that I gathered a hatful for our friends below, and then I lingered for a last look at the boats.  I could make out but one.  Was it the yacht?  No; for there was a trace of smoke over it.  And yet I was sure of a mast.  I put my hand over my eyes.