Captain Bracewell passed a sleepless night, his mind restless with new-born hopes. It could not be true, it was not even sane to expect that he might walk the quarter-deck of the _Sea Witch_, a bigger, finer ship than he had ever been master of in his prime. And to talk of buying her as if she were the toy which had floated on the dinner table! It was all stark nonsense, yet his kindled imagination could not help painting bright pictures. Margaret heard him muttering to himself in the night watches, and stole to his bedside. The captain put his arms around the slim figure in white, and drew her to him.