Maud Warren apologized to Miss Sallie. Mr. Warren had been greatly displeased when he heard of his daughter’s disobedience, and had reprimanded her in such severe terms, that she anxiously endeavored to conciliate Miss Stuart at the earliest opportunity. Miss Sallie, however received her effusive apology very coldly, and it was some time before Maud felt in the least comfortable in her society.

One evening soon after the eventful dinner with the countess, the “Automobile Girls” started out for a moonlight stroll accompanied by Miss Stuart, Mr. Stuart, Mr. Warren and Maud. Just as they were leaving the hotel Marian Smythe appeared on the veranda and was asked to join them.

“Where have you been keeping yourself, Marian?” asked Ruth.

Marian flushed.

“I’ve been very busy,” she said hastily. Then as if anxious to change the subject: “Have you been to the countess’s villa lately?”

“No,” replied Ruth quickly. “Not since the dinner there. Have you heard anything about her?”

“No,” answered Marian shortly, and relapsed into moody silence.

As they strolled leisurely along Barbara who had been walking ahead with Miss Stuart, dropped behind with Marian.

“I want to ask you something, Marian,” she began.

“Little girls should never ask questions,” said Marian lightly, but Barbara felt that her apparent unconcern was forced.

“Have you heard about what happened at the villa the night we dined there?” persisted Bab.

“I have heard something about it,” admitted Marian, in a low voice. “It was an attempt to rob the countess, was it not?”

“You could hardly call it robbery,” replied Barbara. “The men took nothing. But they acted in a very mysterious manner, and there was one perfectly hideous old man who was a real burglar for I caught him going through the things in the countess’s sleeping room, when I went up stairs after our wraps. I drove him from the room.”

“How did you ever do it, Bab?” asked Marian. There was an expression of absolute terror in her eyes.

“You’ll laugh when I tell you,” replied Bab. “I drove him away with a shoe horn.”

“A shoe horn?” repeated Marian questioningly. “I don’t understand.”

“He thought from the way I held it that I had a revolver in my hand,” explained Barbara. “You see it was silver and as the light in the room was turned low it looked like polished steel. At any rate it answered the purpose.”

“You are very brave, Bab,” said Marian admiringly. “Considering the man with whom you had to deal you showed wonderful courage.”

“What do you mean, Marian, by ‘the man with whom I had to deal’? Who is that frightful old man?” asked Barbara, looking searchingly at the other girl. “Why did you warn us not to dine with the countess? Did you know what was to happen? You must tell me, Marian, for I must know. If the countess or any of us is in danger it is your duty to tell me. Can’t you trust me with your secret, Marian?”

Marian shook her head. Her lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

Barbara waited patiently for her to regain her self-control.

“Bab,” she said in a choked voice. “I can’t answer your questions. I dare not. I am a miserable victim of circumstances, and all I can say is that your danger is in being friendly with the countess. She has an enemy who will stop at nothing to gain his own end, and he will crush you, too, if you stand in his way.”

“Tell me, Marian,” said Bab eagerly. “Do you know anything about the countess?”

“Very little,” was the reply, “and that little I may not tell. But this I promise you, that no matter what may be the consequences to myself, I will warn you in time should any special danger threaten you girls or her. That is, if I have the slightest opportunity to do so.”

Marian stretched out her hand and Bab clasped it. “Thank you, dear Marian,” she said. “I know you will keep your word.”

After an hour’s stroll the party repaired to the hotel veranda, where ices and cakes were served to them. Every one, with the exception of Maud Warren, was in high good humor. Even Marian emerged from the gloom that had enveloped her earlier in the evening, laughing and talking merrily with the “Automobile Girls.” Maud, however was in a distinctly rebellious state of mind. During their walk they had encountered the Count de Sonde and Monsieur Duval, and although Mr. Stuart and Mr. Warren had exchanged polite civilities with the two Frenchmen, they had not invited them to join the party. While Maud, still smarting inwardly from her father’s recent sharp censure, had not dared to brave Mr. Warren’s certain anger by doing so. Her only means of retaliation lay in sulking, and this she did in the most approved fashion, refusing to take part in the conversation, and answering in monosyllables when addressed. Ruth and Barbara vainly tried to charm away her sulks by paying her special attention, but she merely curled her lip scornfully, and left the veranda soon after on plea of headache. Mr. Warren sighed heavily as he looked after her retreating figure, but made no comment. Yet his friends knew instinctively what was passing in his mind, and the “Automobile Girls” solemnly vowed each in her own heart to watch over Maud and save her if possible from the schemes of fortune-hunting nobility.

“Is there anything more perfect than this Florida moonlight!” asked Ruth, during a lull in the conversation, as she leaned back in her chair and gazed with half closed eyes at the silvery tropical world before her. “Positively, I could sit out here all night!”

“It looks as though we were in a fair way to do so,” replied her father, glancing at his watch. “Half-past eleven. Time all children were in bed.”

“Really, Robert, I had no idea it was so late,” said Miss Sallie, stifling a yawn. “I believe I am sleepy. Come, girls, it is time for us to retire.”

“Oh, Aunt Sallie!” exclaimed Ruth. “How can you be so cruel?”

“‘I must be cruel to be kind,’” quoted Miss Stuart. “If I allow you to moon out here until unseasonable hours, you will never get started on your picnic to-morrow, at seasonable ones.”

“She speaks the truth,” said Ruth dramatically, “I will arise and hie me to the hay, for come what may, I swear that I will picnic with the rosy morn.”

“I thought you were going to picnic with us,” said Grace flippantly.

“So I am,” replied Ruth calmly. “That statement was mere poetical license.”

“First find your poet,” said Bab slyly.

Whereupon there was a chorus of giggles at Ruth’s expense, in which she good-naturedly joined.

“I’m really more tired than I thought I was,” she yawned, a few moments later as she sat curled up in a big chair in the room adjoining Miss Stuart’s which she and Barbara occupied.

“I’m tired and sleepy, too,” responded Barbara. “It’s almost midnight. We’ll never get up early to-morrow morning. Oh, dear!” she exclaimed a second later, “I’ve left my pink scarf down on the veranda. It’s hanging over the back of the chair I sat in. I’ll go down this minute and get it, before any one has had time to see it or take it away.”

Suiting the action to the word Bab hurried out of the room, and along the corridor. She did not stop for an elevator but ran lightly down the two flights of stairs and out to the veranda. It was but the work of a moment to secure her scarf, which hung over the back of the chair, just as she had left it. The veranda was deserted except for a group of three people who stood at the far end in the shadow. Their backs were toward Bab and they were talking earnestly in low voices. Barbara stood petrified with astonishment, scarcely able to believe the evidence of her own eyes, for the group consisted of Monsieur Duval, Mrs. De Lancey Smythe and – enveloped in the pale blue broadcloth cloak Bab had often seen her wear was the Countess Sophia.

CHAPTER XV
CAUGHT NAPPING

The following morning Barbara awoke with the feeling of one who has experienced a disagreeable dream. Was it a trick of her imagination, or had she really seen their beautiful young countess deep in conversation with Monsieur Duval and Mrs. De Lancey Smythe? True Bab had not seen her face, but her height, and carriage – the blue cloak – were unmistakable.

On her return to their room Bab had not mentioned her unpleasant discovery to Ruth. She could not bear to voice any actual charge against the Countess Sophia. “Perhaps it will all be explained yet,” she told herself, and with a wisdom far beyond her years, she resolved to be silent, at least for the present, about what she had seen.

When the launch which Mr. Stuart had chartered, with its freight of picnickers, had put out from shore and headed for the villa, where they were to pick up the countess and Madame de Villiers, Barbara had loyally decided to let not even the evidence of her own eyes sway her into condemning the countess unheard.

On their arrival at the villa they found the countess and Madame de Villiers ready and waiting for them, and the sailing party was soon comfortably seated in the roomy launch. Madame de Villiers occupied a wicker chair opposite Miss Sallie, while the young countess and the “Automobile Girls” had stretched a steamer rug over the roof of the small cabin, and lay upon it in picturesque attitudes under their sunshades.

There was a churning of the propeller, a shrill toot from the whistle, and the launch glided out over the water as smoothly as a canoe rides down stream.

“We’re off!” cried Mr. Stuart joyously.

“I believe you are just a great boy still, Robert,” smiled Miss Sallie indulgently.

The day’s excursion had been arranged by Mr. Stuart. He was an enthusiastic fisherman, and on his return from the fishing expedition with Mr. Warren he at once began to plan a similar excursion for the “Automobile Girls,” extending his invitation to the countess and Madame de Villiers.

It was an ideal day for a picnic. The sun shone brilliantly down on Palm Beach, making it look like an enchanted land. The bathers were out in full force. A little farther up the beach countless flower-trimmed hats and many-hued parasols made gorgeous blots of color along the white sands. Overhead the sky was an intense blue, and the water reflected the blueness in its depths.

“You can never understand how happy this makes me,” declared the countess, bestowing an enchanting smile upon the little company. “Mr. Stuart, we thank you for the many pleasures you have given Cousine and me. Someday I hope I may be able to do something for you.”

“Wait until the picnic is over before you thank me, Countess,” replied her host. “The fishing may bore you, especially if the fish don’t bite.”

“Ah, well,” laughed the countess, “I could fish patiently all day, under a sky like this without complaining, if I were to catch nothing but a minnow.”

Mr. Stuart’s fishing party had made an early start. They were to land some miles up the coast, where those who were not of a mind to fish could make themselves comfortable on shore.

The journey was not a short one. It was well past eleven o’clock when they landed on a hard shell beach, broken here and there by patches of marsh grass.

“You are especially privileged to be allowed to set foot on these shores,” Mr. Stuart assured his guests, as he handed them out of the launch. “The location of this place has been kept a secret; otherwise it would be overrun with tourists and excursionists.”

“Is it so beautiful?” Ruth inquired.

“Wait until you see it!” was Mr. Stuart’s reply.

The beach sloped upward so as to form a wall that completely hid the land behind it from view.

Ruth and Barbara ran on ahead.

“Oh, Father,” cried Ruth excitedly. “This is a surprise!”

The two girls were looking down into a beautiful little dell. It was like a tiny oasis, with a sand wall on one side of it, and a mass of palmettoes, oak trees and cocoanut palms encircling it on the other three sides. The ground was carpeted thickly with violets. Yellow jasmine and elder flowers gleamed through the foliage. The branches of the oak trees were draped with gray Spanish moss, which made quite a sombre background for the gay tropical scene.

“This is to be your drawing-room and dining-room, Madame,” declared Mr. Stuart, as he helped Madame de Villiers over the sandy hillock. “You may do whatever you like here. You may pull the violets, or walk on them. There are no park rules.”

“Was there ever such a place in the world!” exclaimed Countess Sophia. “I shall not leave it until we sail for home. The most wonderful of sea trout could not lure me from this enchanting spot.”

“We shall stay here, too,” agreed Mollie and Grace. “I would rather gather violets than catch gold fish,” Mollie assured Mr. Stuart.

The wicker chairs were brought from the launch, so that Madame de Villiers and Aunt Sallie could be comfortable in their sylvan retreat. Ruth and Barbara went off with Mr. Stuart on the quest for fish, while the young countess, Mollie and Grace gathered wild flowers and made wreaths of the sweet-smelling yellow jasmine.

Grace ran with her crown of wild jasmine and placed it on Miss Sallie’s soft white hair. The countess placed her wreath on Madame de Villiers’s head.

“Oh, happy day, Oh, day so dear!”

sang Countess Sophia as she stuck one of the beautiful yellow flowers into her dark hair and danced with Mollie over the sands.

It was a happy day indeed – one that the little party would never forget! Mysteries and unanswered questions were banished. Even Bab forgot for the time being all disquieting thoughts. The lovely young countess, with her eyes full of an appealing tenderness, had driven away all ugly suspicion.

Several hours later the fishing party returned.

“See what we’ve got!” Ruth exclaimed proudly, as she ran up the sand hill flourishing a string of speckled sea trout.

“Miss am sho a lucky fisherman,” agreed the old colored man in whose boat Mr. Stuart and the two girls had been fishing.

“But where are your fish, Barbara?” Grace inquired.

Mr. Stuart laughed. “Bab is the unluckiest fisherman that ever threw out a line,” he explained. “Shall I tell them, Bab?”

Barbara flushed. “Oh, go ahead,” she consented.

“Well,” Mr. Stuart continued, “Miss Barbara Thurston caught a tarpon a yard long this morning.”

“Where is it?” cried the waiting audience.

“Back in the sea, whence it came, and it nearly took Mistress Bab along with it,” Mr. Stuart answered. “When Barbara caught her tarpon, she began reeling in her line as fast as she could. But the tarpon was too heavy for it, and the line broke. Then Bab prepared to dive into the ocean after her fish.”

“I was so excited I forgot I did not have on my bathing suit,” Bab explained. “I thought, if I could just dive down into the water, I could catch my tarpon, and then Mr. Stuart could pull us both back into the boat.”

“Reckless, Barbara!” cried Miss Stuart. “What will you do next!”

“Don’t scold, Aunt Sallie,” Ruth begged. “It was too funny, and Father and I caught hold of Bab’s skirts before she jumped. Then old Jim, the colored man, got the fish. So we had a good look at him without Bab’s drowning herself. But when we found that the catch was a tarpon, and not good to eat, Father flung it back in the water.”

While Mr. Stuart and the girls were talking, Jim and the engineer from the launch built a fire. They were soon at work frying the fish for luncheon.

Nobody noticed that a small naphtha launch had been creeping cautiously along the coast. It was sheltered from view by the bank of sand. And it managed to hide itself in a little inlet about a quarter of a mile away from Mr. Stuart’s larger boat.

After a hearty luncheon no one had much to say. The “Automobile Girls” were unusually silent. Finally they confessed to being dreadfully sleepy. There is something in the soft air of Florida that compels drowsiness. Miss Sallie and Madame de Villiers nodded in their chairs. Mr. Stuart, the countess and the four girls stretched themselves on the warm sand. Jim slept under the lea of his small fishing boat, and the engineer of the launch went to sleep on the sand not far from the water’s edge.

For nearly an hour the entire party slumbered. All at once Mr. Stuart awoke with a feeling that something had happened. He rubbed his eyes, then counted the girls and his guests. Miss Sallie was safe under the shadow of her parasol, which had been fixed over her head. Madame de Villiers sat nodding in her chair.

The afternoon shadows had begun to lengthen; a fresh breeze was stirring the leaves of the palm trees. But, except for the occasional call of a mocking bird, not a sound could be heard.

Mr. Stuart waited. Did he not hear a faint noise coming from the direction of his launch. “The engineer has probably gone aboard!” Mr. Stuart thought.

“It is high time we were leaving for home,” said he to himself.

But as he stepped to the edge of the embankment he saw his engineer still lying on the ground sleeping soundly.

A small boat like a black speck disappeared around a curve in the shore.

“What on earth does that mean?” cried Mr. Stuart. Leaping over the sandy wall he ran toward his engineer. Mr. Stuart shook him gently. The man opened his eyes drowsily, yawned then raising himself to a sitting position, looked stupidly about.

“A strange boat has just put out from here,” said Mr. Stuart quietly. “We had better go out to the launch and see if all is well.”

The engineer rose to his feet, and still stupid from his heavy sleep, followed Mr. Stuart to the dinghy. The sound of voices aroused old Jim who clambered to his feet blinking rapidly.

Mr. Stuart and the engineer pushed off toward the launch, each feeling that he was about to come upon something irregular. Their premonitions proved wholly correct. The engine room of the pretty craft was a total wreck. The machinery had been taken apart so deftly, it seemed as though an engineer alone could have accomplished it, while the most important parts of the engine were missing.

“Whose work is this?” ejaculated Mr. Stuart, clenching his fists in impotent rage. Suddenly it dawned upon him what the wrecking of his launch meant. He was on an uninhabited shore with seven women, his engineer, and colored servant, with no prospect of getting away that night.

He felt in his pockets. A pen-knife was his only tool or weapon.

Mr. Stuart rowed back to shore to break the disagreeable news to the members of his party. But the sleepers were awake on his return. They had seen Mr. Stuart row hurriedly out to the launch with the engineer, and surmised instantly that something had happened.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” wailed the countess, when Mr. Stuart had explained their plight. “Must I always bring ill-luck to you?”

“Nonsense!” expostulated Mr. Stuart. “How could the wrecking of our engine have any connection with you, Countess?”

Old Jim who still stood blinking and stretching now began to vaguely grasp the situation.

“’Scuse me ladies,” he mumbled. “I spects I’se jest been nappin’ a little. I ain’t been ’zactly asleep.”

The “Automobile Girls” laughed, in spite of the difficulties which confronted them.

“Oh no, you haven’t been asleep,” Mr. Stuart assured him, “but that nap of yours was a close imitation of the real thing.”

Jim grinned sheepishly and hung his woolly head. “I ’low nothin’ bad ain’t happened, suh.”

“Something bad certainly has happened. In fact about as bad as it well could be, Jim,” declared Mr. Stuart. “Some wretch has tampered with the engine of our launch and left us high and dry on this lonely shore. We must do something and that something quickly. It’s getting late, and we don’t want to spend the night here, lovely as the place is. Where’s the nearest house or village?”

“Lor’, suh,” exclaimed old Jim. “This am a lonesome spot. There ain’t no village no wheres round heah!”

“But where is the nearest house, then?” demanded Mr. Stuart.

The darkey scratched his head reflectively.

“Ole Miss Thorne might take you in, Massa. Her place am about two miles from here. She’s my old missis. I live thar. I jest comes down here and helps fishin’ parties to land and takes them out in my boat in the daytime. Nights I sleeps at my old missis’s place. She comes of a fine family she do. But she’s a little teched in the head, suh.”

“All right, Jim; show us the way to the house. But how are we to find a horse and wagon? My sister and Madame de Villiers will not care to walk that distance.”

“I got an old horse and wagon hitched near here, Massa,” Jim returned. “I come over in it this morning.”

Mr. Stuart finally installed Miss Sallie, Madame de Villiers, and the young countess in the bottom of Jim’s old wagon. He also stored their lunch baskets away under the seats. Food might be precious before they found their way back to their hotel.

Then Jim started his patient old horse, while Mr. Stuart and the “Automobile Girls” followed the wagon which led the way along a narrow road through the heart of the jungle.

But before leaving the deserted shore, Mr. Stuart went back to the launch. He tacked a note on the outside of the cabin. The note explained the accident to their engine. It also stated that Mr. Stuart and his party had gone to seek refuge at the home of a Miss Thorne, two miles back from the shore.

Mr. Stuart did not believe the wrecker would return to the boat. He had accomplished his evil purpose. But Mr. Stuart did hope that another launch might visit the coast either that evening or in the early morning. Therefore he requested that any one who discovered his letter would come to Miss Thorne’s home for his party.