Ichabod saw Ethel come out on the porch and take a seat at the far end. He somewhat hastily released Sarah from his arms, with the explanation that he ought to leave her free to make her preparations for the wedding. The spinster, blushing with happiness and excitement, hurried to busy herself with making ready for her new state of full womanhood. Just as Roy reached Ethel's side, Ichabod joined the two with the glad tidings of his sweetheart's acceptance of the "pre-nuptals." The fisherman's apprehensions concerning too much publicity for the wedding ceremony led him rather shyly to suggest that it should take place on board The Hialdo, away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk. He explained that he didn't know which would be worse—the small boys, or the older devils, or the cacklin' hens.

Immediately after the bank opened next morning, the cashier readjusted his enormous bone-rimmed spectacles in order to study a check presented for deposit by Miss Sarah Porter. Then he espied the phrase concerning "pre-nuptals" in the upper left-hand corner, and that was sufficient, for he was a man of shrewdness. He passed the news along to every person that appeared before his wicket. In less than half an hour, the whole town was agog over the astounding intelligence that the old maid, Sarah Porter, was engaged to be married. There remained the mystery as to the identity of the bridegroom. But this was speedily cleared up by the genial Doctor Hudson, who made no scruples of advertising his old friend's happiness. The result was that by the time set for the ceremony, the whole town was out, waiting in eager anticipation. It was indeed a season of great excitement. Here was an opportunity to celebrate an event that was at once amazing, romantic and historic. Captain Ichabod had been known by them for twenty years as an inveterate woman-hater. During that same score of years, as her friends could testify, Sarah Porter had refused no less than seven excellent offers of marriage. Now, these two were to marry. The citizens, with one accord, marveled and rejoiced.

Yet, no one criticized the match. The two were universally liked and respected. While the townsfolk wondered and smiled they did not jeer. But they were resolved to make a demonstration of their appreciation. They meant to give the wedded pair a "send off" to be remembered.

Sarah, assisted by three of her closest friends, passed the whole night in making ready for the momentous occasion. By nine o'clock in the morning, her trunk was safely aboard the yacht. Immediately after her return from the bank, Captain Jones escorted her aboard The Hialdo—before the townspeople had any suspicion of what was going on. They were quickly followed by Doctor Hudson and the clergyman. Van Dusen bustled in after them, having finished the paying off of the chartered boats.

The ceremony was duly performed. A woman's dream of years at last became reality.

Van Dusen suggested that the newly wedded pair should go ashore to receive the congratulations of the crowd that now thronged the water front. But Ichabod, having in mind pestiferous small boys, steadfastly refused any such exhibition of himself and his bride. His opinion of them would have been confirmed could he have overheard their questioning of Doctor Hudson, which was: Had he examined their teeth to see how old they were?

Nevertheless, the townsfolk, though they got no sight of the principals in the affair, cheered with a lusty good-will. And, too, they dragged a cannon down to the shore, where the gunner fired a salute of twenty-one thunderous explosions. The Collector of the Port, who alone knew that this was an honor reserved for the President of the United States, inquired curiously why this exact number was chosen. The gunner replied seriously that it represented the bride's age.

At Uncle Icky's request, the yacht sailed first for the coast-guard station. Here, he had no hesitation in proclaiming his new state and in receiving the congratulations of his friends—for there were no small boys to trouble. He explained the whereabouts of Shrimp and the hens, with a request that they should be rescued from the barren stretch of sand. The coast-guard men promised that the little flock should receive a home at the station itself. Thus, the old fisherman's last concern with the old life was happily ended. In a moment apart, he made a final entry in the diary.

"Through with Shrimp and the shack, by heck! My weddin'-day! Hooray!"

It was owing to a request by Ethel to Van Dusen that the yacht's course was to Portsmouth that night. Early next morning, before the others were stirring, Captain Ichabod rowed Ethel in a small boat from The Hialdo's anchorage to the town. They were absent for a full three hours. On her return, Ethel spoke with enthusiasm of the town's quaint charm, but she gave no details of her visit there, not even to Roy. The old fisherman said nothing at all of the trip, not even to Sarah Jones.

The wedded pair, though urged to prolong their stay on the yacht, insisted on leaving when The Hialdo reached Norfolk. They took with them a promise from their new friends to come south again in order to attend the opening of the new Inlet Hotel.

Colonel Marion was appointed to head a mission to France for study on the war-methods there. On his return to New York from Texas, he urged Ethel's immediate marriage, before his sailing. Naturally, there was no objection on the part of the lovers, and the father was able to depart tranquil in the assurance that his daughter would be safe in her husband's care.

One morning a few months later, as Roy and Ethel sat at breakfast, the servant brought him a letter with a Paris postmark, which was addressed in the familiar hand of Colonel Marion. Somewhat surprised that the letter should be to him rather than to Ethel, Roy opened it and read:

    "Dear Roy:

    "Just a few lines to give you the surprise of your life. I have found that our old friend, Doctor Garnet, was not lost in the quicksands, as you supposed. On the contrary, he is here in France, doing noble, wonderful work in the branch of his profession that he always loved—surgery. I understand that he has been decorated several times. And also, strange to say, he is going under his own name. I am sending this news to you instead of to Ethel direct, because I feared the effect of a sudden shock on her. You can break the information to her gently.

    "With love to the dear girl,

    "Your father,
    "Stephen Marion."

Roy had little alarm lest his wife should suffer any ill effect from what she would regard as the best of news.

"My dear," he asked at on............