WORLD'S END

Two or three more whacks and the door gave way, and the owner of the Bluebird stood gazing inside. The others couldn't see - they kept away from the ax, whose wielder was panting heavily. For a few moments this hard breathing was the only sound; then he commanded: "Come on out!" No answer from within the cabin, and he shouted more fiercely: "Come out; or do you want me to drag you?"

From inside came the voice of Captain Fitz-Laing: "Put the ax down."

"Oh, I'm not going to hit you," replied Ezra. "I just wanted to see you. Come on out, you dirty skunk."

Fitzy came limping through the doorway, his handsome face very pale, his clothing in disarray. He passed the large and powerful soapman, watching him guardedly. The others made way for him, and he went down the corridor.

"You saw him, now take a look at her," said the man with the ax. He was speaking, not to his guests, but to the members of the crew; several others had come, and the owner of the yacht ordered them to the doorway, insisting: "You have seen her? I shall need you for witnesses." Thus directed, they peered into the cabin, from which came now the sounds of Edna Hackabury's weeping.

"You know her?" demanded Ezra, relentlessly. He set his ax against the wall, and took from his pocket a pencil and some paper. "I want your names and addresses, some place where I can reach you," he said. From one man after another he got this information and wrote it down carefully, while the sobbing inside the cabin went on, and the guests stood, helpless with embarrassment, not saying a word.

"Now then," said Ezra, when he had what he needed, "I'm through." He turned to the group of guests. "I'll leave you this floating whorehouse," he declared. "Take it any place you please. I'm going back to God's country, where people still have a sense of decency."

There came a scream from the cabin, and Edna rushed out, half undressed as she was, and flung herself at her husband. "No, Ezra, no!" She started to plead that she hadn't meant it - she had been too much tempted - she would never do it again - he must forgive her. But he said: "I don't know you," and pushed her away and went on down the corridor.

The first person he had to pass was Lanny, and he stopped and put his hand on the lad's head. "I'm sorry you had to see this, son," he remarked, kindly. "You're in a tough spot. I hope you get out of it some day." He walked by the others without looking at them, and went into the cabin he had been sharing with Lanny and started throwing his belongings into a couple of suitcases. His wife followed him, weeping hysterically. She groveled at his feet, she begged and besought him; but each time he shoved her out of the way. When he had what he needed in the suitcases, he took one in each hand and strode out of the cabin and up the companionway, crossed the gangway to the shore, stepped into one of the waiting hacks - and that was the last they saw of him.

VIII

Doubtless things like that have happened in the Isles of Greece on many occasions, both ancient and modern; but none of these people had ever seen it, and they found it more exciting than looking at ruins or buying picture post cards of the Parthenon. The ladies gathered in poor Edna's cabin, and did what they could to console her, telling her that she had got rid of a great burden, and ought to be thankful. Ceddie Fashynge and Eddie Patterson went out and found Captain Andrew Fontenoy Fitz-Laing bracing himself with a few drinks in a cafe, and brought him back to the Bluebird.

When they had time to think matters over, they realized that it wasn't so bad; they had got rid of a dreadful bore, who in a crisis had shown himself a ruffian as well. Edna and Fitzy would no longer have to hide and cower. The latter, being a gentleman, would of course offer to marry her; but unfortunately he had nothing but his army pay, and couldn't keep a wife on that. Perhaps the soapman would make a settlement; anyhow, if he stuck by his word and left her the yacht, it would make a tidy nest egg.

The question was, what should they do next? They had been having such a jolly time, and it would be a shame to end it. Fortunately there was a person on board who could afford to keep the cruise going, and that was Eversham-Watson - or rather, his wife. Prompted by her, he said he would see them back to Cowes, which they had chosen as the place for the ending of their cruise. "The honor of England is at stake," said his lordship; his bright and chir-rupy little American wife had told him that, and he said it - solemnly and heavily, so that it sounded like a political speech instead of a joke.