He had fate in his own hands now, as it seemed to
him. He went to the skipper and gave him some orders in Spanish, and
then the sails were unfurled, the _Cayman_ spread her broad white wings,
and moved off among those other yachts which were gliding, gliding,
gliding out to sea, melting from Cowes Roads like a vision that fadeth
with the broad light of morning.
When the sails were up and the yacht was running merrily through the
water, Montesma went back to Lady Lesbia, and they two sat side by side,
gilded and glorified in the vivid lights of sunrise, talking as they had
never talked before, her head upon his shoulder, a smile of ineffable
peace upon her lips, as of a weary child that has found rest.
They were sailing for Havre, and at Havre they were to be married by the
English chaplain, and from Havre they were to sail for the Havana, and
to live there ever afterwards in a fairy-tale dream of bliss, broken
only by an annual visit to Paris, just to buy gowns and bonnets.
Surrendered were all Lesbia's ambitious hopes--forgotten--gone; her
desire to reign princess paramount in the kingdom of fashion--her thirst
to be wealthiest among the wealthy--gone--forgotten.
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