The Lady and the Pirate

The old man smiled pleasantly and in mock fashion put up both his

hands. Had it been anyone else, he probably would have knocked me

down. "All right, Mr. Harry," said he, "you will have your joke. But

tell me, what's up? We weren't expecting you here. Mr. Davidson's gone

ashore."

"Just a lark, Peterson," said I. I had slipped down the mask so that

he could see me plainly. "By George, sir!" said he, "I am glad to see

you, back on the old boat again. Where have you been?"

"Just come on board, Peterson," said I. "I am going to run her now

myself.

"Money not paid over, Peterson," said I. It stretched my conscience a

bit, although the truth was I had Davidson's uncashed check in my

pocket at the time.

"We've all had our pay regular," he rejoined. "Why, what's wrong?"

"But I haven't had mine, Peterson," said I. "When the charter money

isn't paid and an owner has reason to suppose that his boat is going

to be run out of the country, he has to act promptly, you understand.

So I have taken my own way. The Belle Helène is in my charge now,

and you will report to me for orders."

"What's that squalling?" demanded Peterson, who was a trifle hard of

hearing.

"Something seems wrong with John, the cook," I answered. "I only hope

he has not made any resistance to my men, who, I promise you, are the

most desperate lot that ever cut a throat. For instance, they have

locked Williams down in the engine-room. Go over there, Peterson, and

quiet him. But tell him that, if he shows a head above the hatch, he

is apt to have his brains blown out. Keep quiet now, all of you, until

I get this thing in hand."

"But the boat's under charter to Mr. Davidson," demurred Peterson.

"Charter or no charter, Peterson," said I, "I'm in command here, and

it's no time to argue."

At this time we heard cries of a feminine sort from the after deck, so

I knew that L'Olonnois, as well, had performed the duty assigned to

him.

"Stay here, Peterson," said I. "It's all right, and I'll take care of

you in every regard. Wait a moment."

I hurried aft. L'Olonnois stood in the shadow, his back against the

saloon door, facing his two prisoners. I also faced them now. The deck

lights gave ample illumination, so that I could see her--Helena--face

to face and fairly. She turned to me; but now I had pulled up my mask

again, and she could have no more than a suspicion as to my identity.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What right have you here?"

For half a moment I paused. Then I felt a sense of relief as I heard

at my elbow the piping voice of L'Olonnois in reply.