The Lady and the Pirate

"All this must go through as we have planned. Once the maiden is in

our power, and the ship our own, we will head down-stream for the open

sea. Are you with me, my bold mates?"

"Lead on, Black Bart!" I heard L'Olonnois hiss; and I saw Jean Lafitte

tighten his belt.

"All ready, then," said I. "I'll go forward and make fast the painter

when we reach the landing stair. Follow me quickly. Leave Partial in

the boat. Gently now."

Swiftly but silently, we swept in under the lee of the Belle Helène.

The landing ladder had not been drawn up after Davidson's departure,

so that the boarding party had easy work ahead.

I sprang upon the deck, my footfalls deadened by the rubber matting

which lay along all the decks. I turned. Above the rail behind me rose

the face of Lafitte, masked. The long blade of a Malay kris was in his

teeth. In one hand he held a pistol, using the other as he climbed. He

scraped out of his belt as he came aboard I know not how many pistols

which fell into the water, but still, God wot! had abundant remaining.

Nor did L'Olonnois, close behind him, his Samurai sword between his

teeth, present a spectacle less awesome. I breathed a sudden prayer

that these might meet with no resistance, else I could only fear the

direst consequences!

I made a quick motion with my hand, even as I sprang forward in search

of Peterson. The dull thud of the engine-room hatch, an instant later,

assured me that Lafitte had performed the most important part of the

work assigned to him. Forsooth, ere long, he had done all his work as

laid out for him. It chanced that, as he sprang to the doors of the

forward saloon, he met John, the Chinaman. Reaching for him with one

hand, he closed the doors with the other, with such promptness and

precision that the cue of John was caught in the door and he was

imprisoned below, where he howled in much grief and perturbation,

unable to escape without the sacrifice of his cue.

Meantime, I found Peterson, my old skipper, much as I had expected. He

was a middle-aged, placid, well-poised man, a pessimist in speech, but

a bold man in soul. He was fond of an evening pipe, and he sat now

smoking and looking down the illuminated lane made by our

search-light. He turned toward me, a sudden curiosity upon his face as

he saw that I was a stranger on the boat, though not a stranger to

himself.

"Sir--Mr. Harry--" he began, half rising.

I reached out my left hand and caught him by the shoulder. In my

right hand I held a pistol, and this, somewhat gaily, I waved before

Peterson's face. "Halt," said I, "or I will blow you out of the

water"--a phrase which I had found sufficient in earlier

circumstances.