Madge was alone in the “Water Witch,” which had been mended and was as good as new. She had just come from an interview with Mrs. Curtis, in which she had tried to make her friend understand the reason for Tania’s behavior of the day before. Mrs. Curtis, however, would not take the little captain’s view of the matter. She dwelt on the fact that Tania had slipped away from the houseboat without letting Eleanor know of it, and that she was a naughty and disobedient child.

Madge also believed that Mrs. Curtis no longer loved her so dearly as in the early days of their acquaintance. The young girl was sure that some influence was being brought to bear to prejudice her friend against her. But what could she do? Philip Holt was trying to destroy the affection Mrs. Curtis felt for Madge in order to ingratiate himself. It looked as though he were going to succeed. Madge was too proud to ask questions or to accuse Philip Holt with deliberately trying to influence her friend against her. Although she was only a young girl, she realized that love does not amount to very much in this world unless it has faith and sympathy behind it. So long as she had done nothing she knew to be wrong, and for which she should make an apology, she could only wait to see if Mrs. Curtis’s affection would be restored to her or cease altogether.

As usual, when she was troubled, the impulse came to her to be alone on the water. She had explained to Miss Jenny Ann that she might be gone for several hours, so there was no immediate reason why she should return to the houseboat. The other girls were yachting with some Cape May friends.

Madge rowed her boat up the bay toward the home of the old sailor. She was not far from the very place where Captain Jules had rescued Tania and her a short while before. She thought of the strange-looking beam sticking up out of the sandy bottom of the bay on which Tania’s dress had caught. It had certainly looked like the broken mast of an old ship. She determined to ask Captain Jules if any wrecks had recently occurred near that part of the bay, and concluded that she would row up to the sailor’s house for the express purpose of asking him this question. Of course, this was only an excuse. She was deeply anxious to call on the old sailor again and, if possible, persuade him to keep his promise to her to show her his diving suit, and to tell her more of his strange experiences at the bottom of the sea.

Captain Jules was sitting in his favorite place on the big rock just by the water in front of his house. He was mending the sail of his fishing boat.

Madge’s boat came round a slight curve in the bay, dancing toward him. This time Captain Jules spied his guest and saluted her as he would have greeted a superior officer.

The little captain blushed prettily as she returned his salute in her best naval fashion.

The old captain looked hurriedly toward his small house. There was no sight or sound of any one about. He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, then his face cleared. His deep blue eyes gleamed and his mouth set squarely. “Coming ashore to make me a call, Miss Madge?” he asked invitingly.

Madge nodded. “If I shan’t be in your way. You must let me just sit there on the rock by you. I have been reading a perfectly thrilling book about pearl-divers,” she announced as soon as she was comfortably settled, “but none of the stories were as thrilling as the ones you told us. The book said that pearls had been found in New Jersey. I wonder if you have ever thought of diving down to the bottom of this bay to see if it holds any treasures?”

The sailor was studying the girl’s face so earnestly that he forgot to answer her.

“Oh, yes, I have thought of it,” he replied a little later, smiling at his guest. “A man never wholly forgets his trade. But what a taste you have for sea yarns, little lady! I half-way think, now, that if you had not been born a girl you might have followed the sea for your calling.”

“I should have loved it best of anything in the world,” answered Madge fervently, gazing at the beautiful expanse of sunny, blue water. “I never feel as much at home anywhere as I do on the sea. You see,” she continued confidingly, “I have a reason for loving the water. My father was a sailor. He was a captain in the United States Navy once.”

“‘A captain in the United States Navy,’” Captain Jules repeated huskily. “I thought so. I thought so.”

“Why?” asked Madge wonderingly.

Captain Jules pulled his needle slowly through a heavy piece of sail cloth. It must have stuck, he was so long about it, and his big hands fumbled it so clumsily.

“Oh, because of your liking for the water, Miss Madge,” he returned quietly. “You see, there are two great loves born in the hearts of men and women that you never can get away from. The one is the love of the soil and the other is the love of the sea. No matter what your life is, if you have those two passions in you, you’ve got to get back to the country or to the water when your chance comes. But why do you say that your father was once a captain in the United States Navy? Is he dead?”

“I am afraid so,” replied Madge faintly. Of late she was beginning to believe that her uncle and aunt, Mrs. Curtis and all her older friends were right. If her father were not dead in all these long years, surely he would have tried to find her. He would have sought to discover some news of the daughter whom he had left when she was only a baby.

Captain Jules seemed about to say something, then, changed his mind. He shook his great, shaggy, gray head and looked at Madge tenderly. “Is your mother living?” he inquired.

“No, she died soon after my father went away to join his ship on his last voyage,” Madge went on sadly, her eyes filling with tears. She was half tempted to tell the old sailor her father’s story, then decided to reserve it until some future day when she felt that she knew him better. In spite of her liking for the old sea captain, she realized that she had hardly known him long enough to make him her confidant.

Captain Jules continued to sew. He opened his mouth, to speak once or twice and then closed it again. Finally he asked Madge huskily, “What was your father’s name, child?”

“Captain Robert Morton,” replied Madge slowly. “He was from Virginia. If I knew him to be alive, I’d be the happiest girl in the world.”

Captain Jules cast a peculiar glance in her direction which Madge did not see.

“My dear little mate,” he said slowly, “some day a young man will come along who will be far more to you than any old father could have been. But what made your father go away? If he was a captain in the Navy, what made him resign his command?”

“I can’t tell you that to-day, Captain Jules. Perhaps I’ll tell you some day when I know you better; in fact, I am sure I shall tell you. Perhaps when I do tell you I shall ask you to do me a great favor. Perhaps I shall ask you to help me hunt for him. I’ll tell you a secret. Uncle and Aunt have been good to me and I love them dearly, but I want my own father, and I can’t, I won’t, believe he is dead. That is, not until I have absolute proof.”

“Little girl!” exclaimed Captain Jules in such a strange voice that Madge was startled, “I promise you that I’ll help you find him.” Then in a calmer tone of voice he said: “I told you that I would show you my diver’s suit. If you will wait on my porch I will go around inside the house to see if I can find it.”

He rose hastily and disappeared into the house, leaving Madge to wonder why the few words she had spoken concerning her father had affected the old sea captain so strangely.