Toinette had her doubts. There had been no pain, and where was the expected blood?
Tubby elaborately sponged her, and told her what she thought was a lie, but what was really the truth, that she was the first virgin he had ever been into. Then he made a cheap excuse to go, and fled to solace himself in drink.
He was greeted with rounds of applause by the other contestants. He told a few lies about his prowess, and got rapidly drunk.
Little Toinette, vaguely disappointed, dressed, and wandered out to the garden, where she found Charlie alone, reading Candide.
He was delighted to see her and they strolled down to the bathing place.
She told Charlie she didn't think much of being seduced. 'However, it may be better next time, and I can have anyone now.'
It was a direct invitation, and Charlie made no bones about it. Like lightning he stripped himself and the child, and the two naked bodies rolled in ecstasy on the soft mattresses.
Charlie's cock was so stiff that it was almost painful. They didn't waste time on preliminaries. Her eyes wild, almost savage, with passion, she guided it in, and Charlie gave a great thrust.
'Oh, oh!' she shrieked, 'you are killing me; it's awful; it wasn't like this with Tubby.'
Charlie took no notice. He thrust brutally on, till at last he felt that the obstacle had vanished. Toinette's maidenhead was fairly and squarely broken. She had borne the pain bravely, but her eyes were streaming with tears as Charlie withdrew a penis dripping with blood.
'Why, the damned fool never seduced you at all,' he cried.
'I have been the first, the very first, my darling.'
He wiped the blood from her tom little cunt-she had bled freely-and fetched her champagne.
Arriving back, they found the house in turmoil. Servants rushed hither and thither, the old general fussed and fumed, Maudie was hysterical, and Tubby had collapsed.
'Whatever's the matter?' cried Charlie.
'Matter, good God, man,' answered young Phil Learoyd, 'that young stranger at the sports was a Daily Mirror reporter and photographer. I was motoring up to town and found him broken down. He didn't recognise me in my goggles, and I overheard his talk to his pal. He's got photos of everything, and what's worse, he knows what we were racing for, and he means to publish it.'
'There's only one way out,' said Maudie tearfully. 'Luckily, I've always been prepared. The yacht is in full commission; I've just telephoned to Southampton to get steam up. The motors are all ready, and we've got to bundle into' em and be off. A few months' cruise for the benefit of our health won't do us any harm. The motors'll carry all the baggage we want, and there are plenty of spare clothes on board.'
It was a hurried night. The great cars tore down the pleasant road to Southampton, to find Tubby's magnificent steam yacht, the Lesbia, with steam full up and everything ready. By dinner time they were well out at sea.
The stockbroker could not possibly leave England, and Maudie had arranged for him to go to Land's End and pick them up on the wireless with news as to what was in the papers.
At four o'clock on the following day the message came through.
It was worse than expected.
Both the Daily Mail and Mirror had full accounts, only hinting, of course, at the naked-flapper events, but hinting strongly that there had been scenes of unmentionable depravity. The race, of course, was described in full detail, and the fact that the prize was a young woman's virtue was severely commented on. Each article ended with an impassioned appeal to the powers that be and the British public to rise up and destroy this hell, this monstrosity, this blot upon 'England.
'The Mirror, ' ran the message, 'has got two pages of photos, and states that they have others, too indecent to print, which they will gladly supply for purposes of prosecution.'
There was a general chorus of groans.
'I should like to see those photos,' said Charlie.
'So should I,' said Tubby.
'Well,' said Maudie, 'we'll risk it. We'll hang off the Land's End, and Phil can nip into Penzance this evening in the motor launch and get the papers.'
Phil returned that night with a sheaf of papers.
'1 kept my goggles on,' he said, 'and my collar up, as I thought my face might be in the pictures, and by God it is. I've bought all I could. Lord, there is a rush for 'em. I popped into one or two bars, still keeping my goggles on, and the place is ringing with it, probably all England is now. The general opinion is that burning is too good for us.'
The papers were eagerly scanned; it was awful. The Mirror had four photos of the big race, an especially good one of the finish, in which the faces of all the runners were distinct, and an excellent one of Tubby leading off his little prize. There was a picture of the house, 'Hell Castle', as the writer dubbed it, and snapshots of Maudie, Madame Rade, and several other individuals. The groups taken before the race began included nearly everyone.
There were no names, but at the bottom of the page was an appeal to the public to come forward and identify the characters.
'Oh Lord,' gasped the general, 'this means a long cruise for us.'
'We're very heavily victualed,' said Maudie. 'I vote we make for the islands in the Pacific.'
Accordingly, a course was set. But before they had made the Horn, one dark night a large vessel overhauled them and signalled them to stop.
'Full steam ahead,' said Charlie, 'we've got the heels of anything but a destroyer.'
But the strange vessel seemed to steam two to their one, and the message came, 'Stop or we sink you.'
A moment later a shell screamed overhead, followed by two more placed neatly to port and starboard.
After a hurried council they gave up. The strange vessel came close alongside, and dropped a launch. In a few moments several elegant young men and a young girl dressed as a middy were on deck.
'What does this mean?' spluttered Tubby.
'Piracy, my dear sir, piracy-simple, unabashed piracy. Why, it's Tubby. Well, Tubby, we can't even spare our friends in this business. Fork out.'
Charlie came forward.
'Look here, St Ed-'
'No names, please,' snapped the young man.
'Well, I don't know what your game is, but look here, old chap, we're fugitives from justice too, and if you collar all we've got, God knows what'll happen to us.'
'Tell me,' he said.
For answer Charlie took him into the chart-room and showed him the papers.
The young man was deeply interested.
'That alters the circumstances altogether,' he said, 'and it's a dashed good job for you you ran against me. I've got an island no one in the world bar ourselves knows of: we could do with some more congenial inhabitants. It's obvious you can't go back to England, so you come with me. I'll send you a couple of steersmen on board to give you your course. You pop over and have dinner with me, and we'll talk things over. You know who I am, and why I left England. We're all in the same boat over there, all gentlemen. You'll have good time.'
Well, it was arranged, to the immense relief of the passengers of the Lesbia, and the two yachts set off in company, southward bound.