Chapter XXIV. Wherein "The Grande Dame" Arrives, Laden with Disappointments

As the sun slanted up between the southward hills, out from the gossamer haze that lay like filmy forest smoke above the ocean came a snow-white yacht. She stole inward past the headlands, as silent as a wraith, leaving a long, black streamer penciled against the sky; so still was the dawn that the breath from her funnel lay like a trail behind her, slowly fading and blending with the colors of the morning.

The waters were gleaming nickel beneath her prow, and she clove them like a blade; against the dove-gray sky her slender rigging was traced as by some finely pointed instrument; her sides were as clean as the stainless breasts of the gulls that floated near the shore.

As she came proudly up through the fleets of fishing-boats, perfect in every line and gliding with stately dignity, the grimy little crafts drew aside as if in awe, while tired-eyed men stared silently at her as if at a vision.

To Boyd Emerson she seemed like an angel of mercy, and he stood forth upon the deck of his launch searching her hungrily for the sight of a woman's figure. When he had first seen the ship rounding the point he had uttered a cry, then fallen silent watching her as she drew near, heedless of his surroundings. His heart was leaping, his breath was choking him. It seemed as if he must shout Mildred's name aloud and stretch his arms out to her. Of course, she would see him as The Grande Dame passed--she would be looking for him, he knew. She would be standing there, wet with the dew, searching with all her eyes. Doubtless she had waited patiently at her post from the instant land came into sight. Seized by a sudden panic lest she pass him unnoticed, he ordered his launch near the yacht's course, where he could command a view of her cabin doors and the wicker chairs upon her deck. His eyes roved over the craft, but all he saw was a uniformed officer upon the bridge and the bronzed faces of the watch staring over the rail. By now The Grande Dame was so close that he might have flung a line to her, and above the muffled throbbing of her engines he heard the captain give some low-spoken command. Yet nowhere could he catch a glimpse of Mildred. He saw close-drawn curtains over the cabin windows, indicating that the passengers were still asleep. Then, as he stood there, heavy-hearted, drooping with fatigue, his wet body chilled by the morning's breath, The Grande Dame glided past, and he found the shell beneath his feet rocking in her wake.

As he turned shoreward George Balt hailed him, and brought his own launch alongside.

"What craft is that?" he inquired.

"She is the Company's yacht with the N. A. P. A. officers aboard."

The big fellow stared curiously after the retreating ship.

"Some of our boys is hurt pretty bad," he observed. "I've told them to take in their nets and go back to the plant."

"We all need