"Are you sure?" said I.

Lane rose. "Let's go and see," said he. "But I've all the keys, and I'll swear no one came down in the neighbourhood of the strong-room while I was there."

We trooped down, Prince and all, and it was as the purser had said. The safes were untouched. Barraclough elevated his eyebrows.

"The fools!" he commented.

"Well, it doesn't seem to me quite that," said I slowly. "It only looks as if Holgate was certain."

"What do you mean?" he asked, and they all looked at me.

"Why, if he did not take the trouble to touch this, he cannot be in a hurry. I never came upon a man with a cooler head. He's not in a hurry, that's a fact. It's been deliberate all through, from the very moment we left the Thames."

We looked at each other now. "Jerusalem!" said Lane. "What a savage! He's made sure of us, then."

"He can wait his time," I said. "He has waited, and can wait longer. The ship's in his hands."

"You take a gloomy view, sir," observed the Prince with a frown.

"Well, Mr. Morland," I replied drily. "I don't think we're here to glaze matters over. We've got to face things, and one of these things is that Holgate hasn't worried us since he got possession. How are you going to account for that, save on my hypothesis?"

"They shall be hanged—every one," he exclaimed angrily, the German accent emerging roughly now.

"Well, we'll do our best, sir," I replied lightly.

I shut the strong-room door, and Lane locked it; and, as I turned, I saw the white face of Pye in the background. He had been missing from breakfast, and he looked very sickly, very pale, and very much abashed. The Prince noticed him, too, and addressed him sharply.

"Why are you here, sir? What do you mean by leaving your quarters? I will have discipline kept on this ship."

"I have no quarters," pleaded Pye humbly. "I was feeling sick, and lay down in my bunk."

"You shall get to your quarters now, sir," declared the Prince severely. "Sir John, order this man to his post."

The little man was so downcast, and was obviously so unwell, that I took pity on him, and cheered him as he went upstairs.

"Never mind, Pye," I said. "We'll pull through."

He shook his head. "Ah, it isn't that," he said. "But I disgraced myself, doctor. I'm not built that way. It was awful—awful." He shuddered.

"Yes, we'll get our little tum-tums full of it now, I guess," remarked Lane cheerfully. "You freeze on to your barker, boy. You'll need it before we fetch up at Albert Docks again. It's Execution Docks for some of us, I'll lay. Have a cigar, doctor?"

I accepted, but Pye refused, turning a sallow hue. His nerves had not yet recovered, and he had certainly drunk a good deal of brandy. Ellison and Jackson were on watch below, and when we reached the corridor Grant signalled us in a whisper from his peep-hole.

"Some one coming along this way, sir."

Barraclough sprang to his side. "By Heaven, it's Holgate, damn him," he said, "with a flag of truce."

"Open that door," said the Prince evenly.

Grant turned the key and drew the bolt, and the door fell ajar. Holgate's big form was stationed before it, and he waved a flag.

"A truce, gentlemen," he said wheezily.

I looked at the Prince and Barraclough for the answer, and to my amazement saw that the former had his revolver at the level. His finger was on the trigger. I leaped forward and struck it up, and the bullet buried itself in the walls of the cabin.

"What do you mean, sir?" he thundered, turning on me savagely. "How dare you?"

"Mr. Morland," said I. "You spoke of discipline a little ago. Well, how do you keep it?"

"This is my ship," he said furiously.

"Yes," said I, "and it is in the charge of Sir John Barraclough here, who will tell you, perhaps, that it is against the laws of equity, not to say common sense, to fire on a flag of truce."

Sir John looked uneasy. "The doctor is right, sir," he said. "We ought to hear what he's got to say."

"He is a villainous murderer. I will see that they are hanged," said the Prince, with a scowl at me. But he let his arm fall. Behind him I could see the Princess, but her face was averted.

Holgate's figure blocked the doorway. "If I may come in," he said smoothly, "and you're quite done with your pistol practice, gentlemen, I should like to make a proposal to you."

"It shall be unconditional surrender, Sir John Barraclough," said the Prince morosely; "I will have no other terms."

"You may come in," said Barraclough shortly.

Holgate edged himself through. "I claim the protection of this flag," said he flatly, and looked about him. "I hope my men haven't knocked you about too much. Doctor, my respects to you. You've got a head on you."

"Come to business, sir," said Barraclough harshly.

"Sir John, I've saved your ship, and I hope you'll lay that to my credit," said Holgate in his leisurely voice. "I found her drifting on a lee shore when I took charge, and, by thunder, she'd have floundered in another half-hour. So whatever you set on one side of the ledger, there's that lump on the other."

"We're not here to talk about these matters," said Barraclough sternly.

"Excuse me, Sir John, we are," said Holgate sweetly. "We're just on that and nothing else. It's pretty clear how you stand, but if you like I'll rehearse the situation. And I want you to understand where I stand. See? I don't think that's so clear to you; and I want ventilation. This is a duffing game for his Royal Highness there. He stands to make nothing out of it, as things go, and there's precious little in it for any of you. Here you are prisoners in these palatial rooms, outnumbered by more than two to one, and not a man of his hands among you, if I except the doctor. Well, you can hold out, I daresay. I know all about that. You've got a call on the food cupboard, and you're welcome to it. But I've got the yacht, and she'll canter under my hands, not Sir John's. Don't you make any mistake. You're not in a first-class position, gentlemen."

"You're a long time coming to the point," said Barraclough with exemplary curtness. "We have no time to waste."

"Well, gentlemen, I'm willing to make a deal—that's the short of it—a deal that will suit both parties. That's the pith of the situation."

He gazed from one to another of us unembarrassed, and even with an expression of amiable cheerfulness. "And my proposal's this——"

"Unconditional surrender," broke in the Prince's harsh voice.

"That so?" says Holgate without concern, directing a glance at the speaker. "I guess, Mr. Morland, you're in this for more than your health. So am I. But I should like to know before starting whom I've got to deal with, just by way of encouragement, so to say." He paused. "I don't want to pry into any secrets, but it would suit me better if I knew whom to address. Owing to the unfortunate decease of the late Captain Day——"

"You infernal ruffian; you murderer!" broke fiercely out of Lane's throat. "You'll hang yet, by heaven, or I'll eat my hat."

Holgate turned his heavy face and still sombre eyes upon the purser, but said nothing nor otherwise remarked his outburst. It was Barraclough who spoke:

"Excuse me, Mr. Lane, this is my affair, not yours," he said abruptly. "Go on, sir," to Holgate.

"I can wait, of course," said the mutineer with cool irony. "There isn't much hurry about the matter now the ship lays her course. But I should prefer a business deal with business people, and I take it that that means with you, Sir John."

Barraclough nodded. "You may address me," he said. "And you will get your answer from me."

"That's all right, then. And having settled so much, this is what I've got to lay before you," proceeded Holgate placidly, breathing out his words. "There's been a certain amount of pawn-taking in this game, and we've both got to pass it over if we're coming to business. Now you know what I want, and by this time you pretty well ought to know what you want also. You're in a tight fix. Well, if you'll hand over the contents of the strong-room we'll get out a proper contract, as thus: self to take the said contents, agreeing therewith to allow his Royal Highness, or Mr. Morland (which you will), a moiety of the same, provided that the party be landed at a suitable place not more than ten miles from a civilised town, and provided always that no more be heard of the steps leading up to this contract."

He came to a pause, and eyed us, with a gaze divested of any eagerness, even of any significance. The Prince uttered a loud laugh, but Barraclough, as became his position, kept his expression. I was a little out of the group, and I could pick out the faces of the company. The Princess had moved forward and leaned now with her chin on her open palm, and one foot upon the settee near the door. She was frankly staring at the mutineer who made these astounding proposals. The Prince and Barraclough conferred in whispers, and presently the latter resumed his position.

"If you want the contents of the strong-room," he said, "it is suggested that you had better come and take them."

Holgate's eyebrows went up. "Well, I could do that, of course," he said slowly. "Don't suppose I've overlooked that solution of the little problem. But I'm dealing with you squarely when I say I'd rather not. For why? Because I don't want any further mess. We've slopped about enough for the present, and I should say you gentlemen know it."

He paused again, as if to give us an opportunity of revising our decision, and once more the Prince and Sir John interchanged whispers. Barraclough shook his head vigorously, and a frown gathered on his features. In the fine light of the skylights Princess Alix's silhouette stood out, and the soft hair on her forehead was ruffled by the breeze. She was still gazing at Holgate. His bull-neck turned and he faced towards her, and their glances met. Neither gave way nor winced before the salvos of the other, and I had the odd thought that some strange duel was in progress, in which the antagonists were that fair woman and that villainous, gross man. Holgate's eyes shifted only when Barraclough spoke next.

"If you leave the yacht at the next port or place of call we shall be powerless to prevent you and the men under you," said Barraclough in a dry, formal voice. "But the mutiny will be, of course, reported to the British Consul at the most accessible port."

"That's a compromise, I reckon," observed Holgate with a grin, which showed his fang. "That's owner and first officer commanding rolled into one and halved, or I'm Dutch. Well, I'll let it go; but I've offered fair terms. And I'll tell you frankly that I wouldn't even have offered those had it not been for the doctor." He shook his head, wagging it at me. "Oh, doctor, doctor, to think what I lost in you! Why, we could have taken our time over the strong-room, barring your little intervention. You're a real daisy, and I won't forget it. But now it's in the hands of Providence. It's war. Sir John, I congratulate the double-barrelled leaders. There's two captains here, and that's one too many. I only allow one in my quarters. All right, gentlemen." He took up his flag and waddled towards the door. "Good-morning. I've done what I could. Don't blame me."

On the threshold he paused, and his glance marched deliberately over us all, landing at last upon the Princess. "May the Lord help you," says he in his voice of suet. "May the Lord be merciful to you—all!"

The door went behind him with a snap. I turned almost unconsciously in that direction in which the last shafts of his eyes had flown. The accent on the "all" had been perceptible. Princess Alix had lifted her chin from her hand and set down her foot. She held on to the arm of the settee, and I could perceive her trembling. Her face had gone white like paper, and she stared at the closed door. I moved quickly towards her, for I was a doctor, if I had no other right there. My arrival broke upon her thought; she started, and the colour flowed back slowly into her face.

"That man is the most awful man I have ever seen," she said with a shudder.

"He is not so awful as he thinks," I said encouragingly.

She shook her head, and moved away. I followed her. "If I might suggest, I would advise you to take a rest," I said. "You have had a most trying night."

"Yes—I will rest," she returned with a sigh; and then, as we walked down the corridor together, "I thought you were right when you spoke to—to my brother in regard to the revolver; but now I don't know. I think anything that would rid the world of such a monster is justifiable."

"Perhaps," I replied. "But he is making war, and we are on terms of war, and more or less bound by them. At least, that is one's general notion. But who can tell? The ethical boundaries, and the borders of honour, are indefinable and intangible."

"I think I would have shot him myself," she said vehemently.

"I hope we shall hang him yet," I answered.

She looked at me out of her blue lustrous eyes, as if deliberating.

"We depend a good deal on you, Dr. Phillimore," she said next.

"We are all dependent on one another," said I.

"Do you suppose that man meant what he said?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I would distrust every statement of his. I can't determine what was in his mind or what he is aiming at. But this I know, that to make a compact with him would be to be at his mercy. He is ruthless; he would not consider what blood he shed; and, besides, he has committed himself too deeply, and is no fool to ignore that."

She sighed again. "I am glad," she murmured. "I thought perhaps that it would be wise. But my brother would never consent. Only I was afraid. But I am glad it would have been of no use. That makes only one course possible."

"Only one," I said gravely. We came to a pause by the door of the cabin. "I think I had better see to Mademoiselle," I said, "in case of emergencies."

"Yes, please," she said with a start, and opened the door of the boudoir.

Mademoiselle, clad in a wonderful dishabille, was seated under the electric light, engaged in a game of dominoes with her maid, and just threw a glance at us as we entered.

"There ... tenez ... la, la ..." she said excitedly, and marked her board and scrambled up the dominoes in a heap.

"Juliette has won never," she cried in her broken English. "I have won three times. Where is Frederic, ma cherie? He is not fighting? Non?"

"There is no fighting now, Yvonne," replied the Princess with admirable restraint, as seemed to me. "Frederic is well."

"Oh, but the noise in the night," she rattled on in her own tongue. "It was dreadful. I could not sleep for the guns. It was abominable to mutiny. Ah, it is the doctor. Pardon, this light is not good, and they have boarded up the windows. We must live in darkness," she added peevishly. "But how are you, doctor? You have not been to cheer us lately. It is a dull ship."

"Why, we consider it pretty lively, Mademoiselle," I answered lightly. "It keeps us occupied."

"Ah, yes," she laughed. "But that is over now, and you will only have to dispose of the prisoners, to guillotine? ... No, to hang?"

"It is we who are prisoners," said the Princess abruptly.

Mademoiselle stared. "Mon Dieu! Prisoners! Oh, but it is not so, Alix. Juliette, shuffle, or I will box your ears, silly... Whose prisoners are we?"

"The anterooms, Mademoiselle, are cut off from the rest of the ship," I explained. "Are you prepared to stand a siege?"

"Oh, but we have gallant defenders enough," she said with her pretty laugh. "I am not afraid. It will be experience. Juliette, open, open, stupid. Do not stare at Monsieur like a pig. Play."

I passed on, the Princess following me. "When I left her she was in tears," she said in a low voice.

"She may be in tears again," I said. "But at present she wants no help from me. She suffices entirely for herself."

Our eyes encountered, and I am sure of what I saw in hers; if we met on no other ground we met on a curious understanding of Mademoiselle. I took my leave ceremoniously.



CHAPTER X

LEGRAND'S WINK

As I went down the corridor the figure of little Pye sprang out upon me from somewhere.

"Doctor," he said in a piteous voice. I stayed. "Doctor, I'm very ill. I'm just awful."

I looked at him closely. The flesh under his eyes was blue; the eyes themselves were bloodshot, and his hands shook. I felt his pulse, and it was racing.

"You're in a blue funk, Pye," said I severely.

He groaned. "Anything. I'll admit anything, doctor. But for heaven's sake let me go down to my bunk. I'll pull together there, I'll swear it."

"You'll go down and drink too much," I said.

"Not if you'll give me something. There must be lots of things," he pleaded. "I've never seen—I'm not fitted for this. Oh, doctor, I've only lived in a street before, a suburb, Tulse Hill. Think of that."

His voice cracked, and with the ghost of his favourite trick his fingers quavered with the glasses on his nose. I took a pity for the creature, a pity in which there was naturally some disgust.

"Very well," I said. "Go down, and I'll make it all right. I'll pay you a visit later."

He thanked me and scuttled away like a rabbit, and I sought Barraclough and explained.

"Ill?" said he. "Well, if he's ill——"

"He's ill enough to count," I said. "He's in a dead funk, and about as much use as a radish."

Barraclough's nose wrinkled in smiling contempt.

"Better make him steward and promote Jackson," he said. "He's part of a man, at any rate. They'll be on us before we know where we are."

"Do you think so?" I asked. "Well, to say the truth, Holgate puzzles me. Why did he make that offer?"

"Because he'll find it infernally difficult to get in here," said Barraclough easily. "Because it's a frontal attack all the way and a costly business. If it's a case of half the party going to glory they'll look out for a cheaper way first. That's why."

"You may be right," I answered. "But Holgate isn't exactly particular, and anyway I want to find out."

"Find out?" he echoed in surprise.

"Well, Holgate used a flag. Why shouldn't I in my turn?" I asked.

He screwed up his mouth. "Well, I don't know," said he. "I won't say you nay, but—look here, there's risk, Phillimore. You say Holgate isn't particular. To put it plain, he's a black-hearted swine."

"You couldn't put it too plain," I replied. "But I have my notion, and I may not be wrong. He's black enough, God knows, but I think I've gauged him a little. Why didn't he push the assault? Why doesn't he now? No, Holgate's not all plain and easy. It's not like reading print. I'm hanged if I know what he's up to, but whatever it is, it's bad. And somehow I feel my way along this, and I don't think he'll do any harm at present. Call it faith—call it instinct—call it superstition if you will."

He bit his moustache doubtfully. "You're on duty in an hour," he objected.

"I'll be back before," I answered. "And another thing, Barraclough, there's Legrand.... Oh, they'll want a doctor."

"That's true. Well, God bless you," said he, placidly yielding, and unlocked the door. I had provided myself with a flag, and now emerged upon the deck clasping it in one hand.

I walked past the barred windows of the music-room and saloon, and past the smoking-room beyond, until I was level with the chart-house. I was on the windward side of the yacht, and she was heeling gently as she ran down the coastline under a full head of steam. Above me I could discern also the white spread of her wings, and from the look of the long white water that leaped and fell off her sides in a welter I guessed that we must be footing it to a pretty tune. If poor McCrae had been right in estimating her rate at eighteen knots, she could not be making much less than sixteen now.

The sails were full of noise, and the wind rattled and sang in the ventilators. The first sight that struck me as I came back square with the bridge was a man swinging in a travelling-cradle and leisurely painting the funnel. It seemed so peaceful an occupation, and so strangely out of accord with those terrible transactions of the night, that I stared in wonder. Then my eyes went to the bridge and marked something more in keeping with the situation, for the bridge had been boarded about in the rear and sides with a wall of timber, so that the helmsman and the man in charge, Holgate or another, were invisible from the deck below, as also from the hurricane-deck. I suppose that this structure had been put together in memory of the Prince's prowess, and of his ruthless performances from the hurricane-deck.

I advanced to the end of the deck and hailed the forecastle, waving my flag.

"Is Mr. Holgate there?" I called out. "I wish to see him," and again I waved my flag.

A man came into the open on the deck below and stared up at me, and presently after he was joined by another whom I recognised as Gray. They exchanged words, and I knew also from a sound overhead that some one was peering at me from the bridge. Once more I called out for Holgate, brandishing my flag vigorously: and then I heard Holgate's voice below.

"Hold on, doctor!"

He emerged into my line of vision and with him was Pierce, his lank red face upturned to me, his lower jaw in its socket. Gray gesticulated, indicating me, and Holgate stood passively looking at me. Suddenly the ex-boatswain put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a revolver and presented at me. It was the work of a moment. Holgate struck his arm up, and the bullet whizzed past me and banged into the chart-house.

"Steady there, doctor," said Holgate. "Glad to see you. Just in time, wasn't I? Step along down there." I moved towards the ladder and descended to the lower deck, where Holgate met me.

"Difficult to keep our respective men in hand, isn't it, doctor?" he said with a quizzical look. "But I won't have any firing on a flag of truce any more than you. You and I keep to the code of honour."

I could have sworn that the piece of comedy which had just been performed had been his. I knew for certain now that it was his jest, this crude and savage joke that was on the margin of tragedy, and might have gone over the border. But what would he care, this infamous man of astute intelligence, cold, cunning, and ruthless determination? His eyes twinkled, and he laughed now so as to disclose his abominable fang.

"We are now quits, eh, doctor?" he said. "His Royal Highness would have had me but for you, and now Pierce yonder would have potted you but for me. I like honourable warfare," he chuckled.

"Well," said I cheerfully, for I was resolved to take him in his own way, "then the Prince's offence is wiped out. He is forgiven."

"Oh, there's nothing to forgive about the Prince," says Holgate indifferently. "I don't want him. I want his safe. What's a Prince or two?" He looked at me narrowly. "Shall we get to business? Changed your minds?"

"There's not the slightest chance of that," I answered. "You may set that on record."

"Say, I will," said he, unexpectedly turning, and called out, "Pierce, Gray, come here. Just listen to the whoop our cockerels give up there. Now, doctor, spit it out."

"I have nothing to add to my statement that there is no chance of any terms," I said sharply.

"Think of that," observed Holgate to the others. "They don't know what's good for them. Well, let 'em alone, doctor. Let 'em stew in their juice. They'll come round in a brace of shakes, after a little argument, let's say."

Gray guffawed, and Pierce grinned, his thin face puckering to his eyes, an unpleasing sight. It was clear who was master here. Holgate commanded by the sheer force of his individuality and his coolness.

"Well, to what do we owe the honour of this visit?" went on Holgate easily. "Come to borrow some of our provisions? Strikes me you're a bit fond of the forecastle. We shall have to make room for you. Got room for a little one inside, Pierce?"

The joke sent Gray off again, but I was aware that this gross fooling was as much a piece of acting as had been the feint of shooting at me. He was playing to an audience, and that audience a gallery that dealt only in crude fun. Why did he do it? What was his object? He puzzled me. But I made answer very plainly.

"You know my profession, Mr. Holgate. We had a second officer...?" I paused.

"Have!" he corrected mildly. "Have; not, of course, on active service—resting, let us say."

Gray giggled. His master was as good as the clown in a circus to his tickled ears. Holgate looked at me.

"There's nothing much the matter with Legrand," he went on, "save natural chagrin and a crack on the head. You see, I got him just so." He put both hands together in a comprehensive gesture, "and it interfered with his vertebrae. But better see him, doctor, better see him; and while you're about it, we've got a job or two more for you."

I followed him, as he spoke, towards the forecastle deck, and soon was busy in my professional capacity, Holgate chatting the while very wheezily in my ear. And when I had finished he had the hatch opened and I descended to the prisoners.

"I'm accompanying you, doctor," explained Holgate, "not because I'm going to spy on you—that would be mean, and not in the game—but as a guarantee of good faith, as one might say. You see I feel responsible for you, and if some one with an imperfect sense of honour, say like the Prince, should take it into his head to clap hatches on you, where would my reputation be?"

He smiled, took a lamp from one of his men and descended after me.

The prisoners were standing or squatting moodily about in that small compartment of the hold, which was otherwise almost empty, and lying on his back with his face turned towards us was the second officer. His eyes gave no indication that he was aware of my presence, though they were wide open, and, I confess, I was alarmed to see his condition. It looked like death. I felt his pulse, and examined him, and all the time his eyes were on me unwavering. His high colour had fallen away, and his face was now spotted with unhealthy blotches on a pallid skin. I pressed my fingers to the back of his neck, puzzled, and as I did so my body came betwixt Holgate with the light and Legrand.

It seemed to me that now the eyes moved, and I could have declared that one of them closed sharply and opened again. But at the moment Holgate shifted his position the eyes were again dull and vacant.

I drew in my underlip, and stood up, looking at the mutineer.

"A heavy crack," said I.

"Well, I suppose he came down rather nastily," said Holgate, unperturbed. "I'm sorry. I bear Legrand no grudge. He was a good navigating officer."

"It looks like brain lesion," I said. "But I should like to examine more carefully."

"Welcome, doctor, welcome," said he cheerfully, "always welcome, so long as I command this ship. Fly a flag and I'll see there's no reigning princes about. I'm the only prince here, you may take my word for that."

I thanked him coolly, and giving the prisoners some directions for the care of Legrand, climbed to the deck. As I left the lower deck with the suave compliments of Holgate in my ears, I had two things in my mind to ponder. In the first place, there was the mystery behind the chief mutineer. What ailed him that he had made no attack on our weak garrison? And had the deviation of the yacht's cruise been an adequate reason for leaving the strong-room untouched? Again, when he had offered terms, had he not known that we could not accept them, and why had he conducted himself with such easy insolence as to prevent us from accepting them had we been disposed to do so? This problem frankly baffled me. But the other thought was more consolatory. I was convinced that Legrand was not much injured, and I guessed that he was "shamming." That he had winked at me to convey his real case seemed obvious. My heart rose at the thought, for it had been downcast, heaven knows. But it was something to feel that we had allies forward, in the heart of the enemy, even if they were at present under hatches. I had faith somehow in Legrand, a silent, forcible man, and I entered the staterooms with cheerfulness.

Oddly enough, the note with which I was received bore some relation to that cheerfulness, for I was admitted to the tune of tremulous laughter. It was Ellison who let me in, but the laughter did not proceed from him. Half-way down the corridor was Sir John in animated conversation with Mademoiselle. At least, the animation was on her part, for he was decorously stolid, and favoured me with a nod.

"Managed it, then, Phillimore. Good for you," he said with amiable patronage. "I though it was all up when I heard that shot. But Mademoiselle put her money on you."

"Ah, was I not right?" she asked archly in her pretty English. "I know the doctor. He is an old friend of mine."

She was dressed in a smart morning gown, somewhat open at the throat, and her admirable voice seemed to encompass us in its sympathy. One could not but feel pleased and flattered by her faith. I smiled.

"I am glad to say that Legrand's safe, but hors de combat," I went on. "Perhaps not for long. We may have a surprise in store for us. At any rate, Holgate does not know everything. He's a little too clever, to my mind."

"Oh, I wish they were all hanged, and dead," broke out Mademoiselle, with an impatient gesticulation.

"They will be in due time," said Barraclough.

"Tell me, Sir John, tell me, doctor, is there any danger?" she asked vivaciously.

Sir John was ever deliberate, and I anticipated him.

"None, or very little at present, I think."

"Ah!" she beamed on us both. "Then you shall have time to play with me. Do you play breedge, Sir John?"

I turned away, for it was time to relieve Lane in the saloon.



CHAPTER XI

THE LULL

When you consider how I had parted from the Prince, his subsequent conduct must be regarded as creditable. After my watch I fell dead asleep in my bunk, and might have slept till night had it not been for the sense of discipline possessed and exhibited by his Royal Highness. He visited me in person, and did me the honour to arouse me from my dreamless slumber, whereat I sat up cursing.

"It is natural you should feel irritated, Dr. Phillimore," said he calmly. "But when you come to yourself you will perceive that duty must be performed. It is your watch."

"Oh, ah!" I blurted forth. "You must excuse me; sir, but I have had a night of it."

He nodded amiably. "If you will come to my cabin after your watch," he observed, "I shall have something to say to you."

I do not know that I looked forward to the interview with any interest. I expected some censure of my conduct earlier in the day, and I was resolved to defend myself. But the Prince proved mild and even amiable. He offered me a cigar, and condescended to discuss some points of policy with me.

"I have been told," said he, "that you have been in the forecastle, and have seen Mr. Legrand. You think that there is some chance of his joining us? Well, it is good hearing. I have no doubt that we shall succeed in destroying the traitors."

"Mr. Morland," said I, leaning forward to him, "I would not like to leave you in the thought that this is going to be easy."

"Oh, no; it will not be easy," he agreed.

But plainly he was confident that it was possible, which I was not. If there was any one in that ship that doubted, it was I. I said nothing, however, but remarked that Holgate was a man of resource and capacity.

"I am willing to believe that," he said after a pause. "He is a very clever scoundrel. Oh, yes."

"We might be in a better position to counter his plans if we fathom them," I suggested.

He looked at me, interrogation in his blue eyes, which were, and were not, so like his sister's.

"The question that puzzles me, sir, is why Holgate did not seize the saloon and the deck below last night when he had the chance—for down there is what he wants."

"He had us locked up in the chart-house," replied the Prince with assurance. "He did not anticipate that we should escape; and the yacht was running into danger."

Yes; that was the explanation that had occurred to me; indeed, it was the explanation that hitherto we had all accepted. But was it true?

"It was his intention to possess himself of the papers at his leisure," continued Prince Frederic, smoking and gazing at me with the air of a preceptor instructing a pupil.

"Why should he?" I asked bluntly.

The Prince smiled pleasantly. "I will tell you, Dr. Phillimore," he answered. "When I left London, and Europe, for good, I instructed my lawyers to put my property into three forms of goods—drafts on bankers, Bank of England notes, and English currency. Each kind would be of service to me, whose destination was not quite settled. But these would make a bulky load for any man. There is a large amount of specie, and is it not the Bank of England that says, 'Come and carry what gold you will away in your pockets provided you give us L5,000'? Well, there is that difficulty for these villains."

"But," I objected, "do they know how the treasure is made up?"

He cast a dark glance at me. "I have told you," he said, "I trust such as you in my service, doctor. But there has been treachery. Who I am and what I carry became known. How, I cannot say. But it was treachery. The whole thing is a conspiracy," he cried, hammering on the table, "and it may be that my enemies in Hochburg are at the bottom of it. I will find out. But, see you, doctor, I am Mr. Morland here and hereafter. Let that be understood, and it is as Mr. Morland I will hang these ruffians."

His frown knit his eyebrows closely, and his nostrils heaved, while the blue eyes were fired with sudden flame. If he had ideas on democracy, as reports of him had declared, he had also beyond question the temper of the martinet. It was possible, no doubt, to recognise these strange contradictions, but at the first sight it seemed difficult. I had yet to learn that I was dealing with a type of the fanatic, and a representative of that type, moreover, who exemplified in his blood the fatalism of his ascendants. Yet the glimpse I had of the man was interesting. I began to understand him, and even to sympathise with him. He had foregone much for the sake of an ideal, and that was something. But just then I should like to have known exactly what his sister's attitude to that ideal might be. For Princess Alix, strange as her brother was, was even more baffling than he.

Though we kept a rigid watch all that day and night, no attack was delivered, and I began once again to speculate as to Holgate's policy. Was he trying to tire us out before he made his assault, or had he other ends in view? The second day passed as tranquilly as the first, and the yacht was still making her best southward. She had passed the mouth of the Rio La Plata, and was forging along the Argentine coast, bound for—we knew not whither. Her destination was in other hands, and we must be content to abide the issues, alert and equipped for any emergency.

On the second day I revisited the forecastle, with my flag, and found Holgate as amiable as before.

"You give me your word, doctor, that you have no weapons?" said he, when I had attended to his wounded men, and was proceeding to the hold where the prisoners lay.

"I give you my word," I replied.

He nodded, and gave orders for the removal of the hatch; and down I went, this time unaccompanied. Legrand still lay on his back, staring vacantly, and the sailors were grouped about, a despondent company, in that dark and stuffy hole.

"Any improvement?" said I to one of them.

"Not much, sir," said he, with a glance towards the open hatchway, where, no doubt, one of the mutineers stood on guard.

"Does Mr. Legrand take any nourishment?" I asked.

"A bit, sir, but not too much. He doesn't seem to relish his food," the man answered.

"Does he talk?" I asked.

"He has spoken about a dozen sentences, sir, but there don't seem much sense in them."

"Ah, I feared as much," I said. I was certain that Holgate, for all his lordly air of unconcern, had taken steps to know what was forward in the hold.

I made another examination, and was the more convinced that there was nothing seriously the matter with Legrand. This time he frankly grinned in my face, as I laid him down. No doubt the sailors were in his secret, and primed for it.

"I daresay I shall have to operate," I said, and, bidding them farewell, I ascended to the deck.

Holgate waved his hand cheerily at me. "Always glad to see you, doctor," he called out, and went on with the conversation in which he was engaged.

I could have whipped myself that I could not guess what his crafty design was.

But, if I was ignorant, no one was likely to assist me. Barraclough had no views; all that his purview compassed was the probability of an immediate fight, to which he looked forward with unconcern. Lane was ridiculously inept in his suggestions, one of which involved the idea that Holgate desired to "bag ladies and treasure with one gun." This suggestion irritated me, and I snubbed him, so far as any one could snub Lane. The Prince, I knew, was secure in his obstinate conviction, and naturally Ellison had no views any more than Barraclough. They were both very excellent examples of pure British phlegm and unimaginativeness. This seemed to cast the burden upon me, for Pye was still confined to his cabin. The little man was undoubtedly shaken by the horrid events he had witnessed, and though he was confessedly a coward, I could not help feeling sorry for him. He was an abject creature now, and clung to his bunk, keeping out of the Prince's way and Barraclough's as much as possible, and pestering me with his consultations.

"I believe I should be better, doctor, if we were to get into warmer weather," he said pleadingly. "Cold does affect a man's nerves, doesn't it?"

"Well, you'll have to make love to Holgate, if you want that," said I drily. "We're at his mercy."

We were all, I think, conscious of that, if we did not always openly acknowledge the fact. Yet it was astonishing that no attack was made on the state-rooms. Holgate had promised it, and had even struck the shadow of deeper terrors during the concluding words of his interview in the corridor. But things went on peacefully; the sun rose in blurred heavens of blue and grey, and declined into rolling waters, and no event of consequence took place. The bells were sounded as of old; the wheelman in his armoured turret steered the yacht upon her course, and every day the Sea Queen drew southward under the ordinary maritime routine. Were it not for our memories, and for the outward facts of our predicament, we might have fancied ourselves merely upon a pleasant excursion.

There was, however, this lacking, that no one knew our destination. The secret was locked in Holgate's bosom, or perhaps he shared it with one or more of his desperadoes.

And, as if to lull us into a sense of security and to persuade us that all was normal, Mademoiselle suddenly developed and exhibited a remarkable liveliness. She was a thing of moods and impulses, restrained by no reason or consideration for others, so far as I could judge. And, having once got the better of her hysteric fear of the mutiny, she promptly discarded any thought of it. We were prisoners in our part of the yacht, it is true, but that did not interfere with our comfort. We had food and wine to spare; we were supplied with every luxury; and no one gave us any trouble. The guards were set regularly, but Mademoiselle had no concern with that. I doubt if she even recognised that such precautions were taken. There was a certain romance in the situation which appealed to her and inflamed her imagination. She lived most of the day in her cabins, being tired by her maid, or playing dominoes or some other childish game; and in the afternoon she emerged upon us, a glorious figure in fine clothes, and gave us the benefit of her society.

Naturally she spent much of her time in company with the Prince and his sister, but Barraclough and myself were by no means denied her favours. Barraclough spoke French very indifferently—as indifferently, indeed, as Mademoiselle spoke English, but that did not prevent them from getting on very well together. As I have explained, Barraclough was a tall, handsome fellow, lean and inflexible of face, with the characteristic qualities of his race. His eyes admired the lady profoundly, and he endeavoured to keep pace with her wits, a task rendered difficult by the breaches in two languages. This vivacity was crowned by exhibitions of her voice, to which she began to treat us. She had, as I remembered, a wonderful mezzo-soprano, and, being pent up in this comfortable prison, and denied access to the promenade, she used it to effect. As I have said, the music-room surrounding the saloon below, as a balcony, was in our suite, if I may put it in that way, and thither was Mademoiselle accustomed to repair of an afternoon to keep her voice in practice, as she explained. The Prince usually followed her there, and I have seen him more than once seated in the dimness of the farthest corner of the balcony, staring before him as a man lost in thought, or as one rapt out of himself into some sentimental ecstasy at the sounds of that divine music. Here we felt, more or less, that we were in Liberty Hall, and, to do him justice, Prince Frederic encouraged us to feel this. It was understood that the saloon was open to all, and it became a resort for such of us as were off duty in those days—a resort that would have been improved by more light; for the windows were all barred and shuttered, and only the skylights admitted the day.

The weather was now grown much colder, for we were off the coast of Patagonia, and Holgate appeared to be bent on doubling the Horn and getting into the Pacific. In the wilds of that wide domain there would be more chances for this crew of scoundrels to find refuge and security from the arm of the law. Was it for this he was waiting? And yet that was no argument against an immediate attack, for it was clear that he might get the business over, deal with us as he chose, and make for his destination afterwards and at his leisure. Nor could it be that he doubted as to the issue of the struggle, for his forces outnumbered ours greatly, and, if I knew anything of men, Holgate was utterly without fear. But, on the other hand, he had a great deal of discretion. The only conclusion that emerged from these considerations was the certainty that in the end Holgate had decreed our fate. That had been settled when Day fell, perhaps even before that, and when poor McCrae was shot by his engines. We were doomed to death.

If any doubt as to our fate dwelt in Princess Alix's mind she did not show it. She was a girl of spirit and energy, and she had neat hands. Thus her time was spent in such work as she deemed useful in the circumstances, or such as occupied her mind healthily. She made a handsome fur cap for herself against the biting wind, which now came snapping off the icy highlands of the coast, and she sketched, and designed, and photographed. Above all, she was cheerful and self-reliant. There was not much in common between the brother and the sister save perhaps their aloofness from strangers. I questioned much if the Princess had any of her brother's sentimentality. She had all her brother's decision and fire, however, as I was to see exemplified more than once.

It was on the third of our quiet afternoons that I was sitting in the corridor with a volume in my hand, conscious merely of the many sounds in that silence, and scarcely aware of what I read. The voyage seemed to partake of the nature of that fabled voyage of the ancient mariner. Some strange doom hung over us all, and yet the sky smiled, as it did that moment, and the cold breath of the blue sea was inspiring in one's nostrils like wine in the blood. I was aware in this dream that a door had opened and shut, and that the Princess had come into the corridor. She sat on a chair not far from me and plied her needles in a way that struck me now, as I roused myself, as very homely and pleasant. I shot a glance at her. She was very simply dressed in what, for all I know, may have been a very extravagant fashion. She had the knitted waistcoat she was making (I concluded for her brother) across her knee, and I had a full view of her as she swayed and moved about her task. Those flowing lines, that sweet ripeness, the excellent beauty of her face, impressed me newly. She met my glance, and smiled.

"What do you find interests you, Dr. Phillimore?" she asked in her pleasant voice.

"I was reading, or pretending to read, a book of poems," I answered.

"Poems," she replied, plying her needles, and then in a little, "It is strange you should be reading poems and I knitting here."

"It puzzles me," said I. I rose and went to the window behind her which was not shuttered, and for the light from which she had seated herself there. The crisp sparkle of the sea rose to eyes and ears. When I turned, Princess Alix had ceased from her work and was looking towards me.

"You wonder why?" she asked.

"I have made many guesses, but have never satisfied myself yet why the mutiny is not pushed to its logical conclusion."

"Which would mea——" she said thoughtfully.

"Which would mean," I interrupted quickly, "the possession of the treasure."

There was something deeply significant in her gaze, something that was brave, and appealed, and winced at the same time. She went on slowly with her knitting.

"He is waiting his time," she remarked in a low voice.

"He will wait too long," I said with a little laugh.

"Do you think so?" she asked, and, laying down her work, went to the window as I had done. "It is cold."

"We are off an icy shore," I said.

"Yes, I found it on the map this morning," she nodded. "We are close to the Straits of Magellan!"

At that moment the sound of the piano sailed through the door at the end of the corridor. She turned her head slightly, and then moved away restlessly. She went to the chair on which I had been sitting and picked up my Tennyson.

"I know him pretty well," she remarked, turning the pages. She halted where I had inserted a marker.

"'The Princess,'" she said slowly. She drummed her fingers on the leaf, read for a minute or two, and dropped the book lightly. "We have no literature in comparison with yours, Dr. Phillimore; but we have sometimes done better than that."

"Oh, not than the lyrics," I protested lightly. "Ask me no more——"

The music from without broke into louder evidence, and she turned frowning towards the door.

"Do you know, Dr. Phillimore," she asked hesitatingly, "if Mr. Morland is in his room?"

"He went after lunch," I answered. She stood considering.

"Mademoiselle has a beautiful voice," I said tentatively.

"Oh, yes," she assented. "It is of good quality and training." Her tone was curt, as if she were unwilling to continue the conversation, but she still listened.

Einsam Wandelt dein Freund im Fruehlings garten.

It seemed to me that I could almost hear the words in that uplifted music. The song has always been a passionate fancy of mine, beguiling the heart of rock to romance. Sentiment is on wing in every corner of one's consciousness when that song rises in its fulness and falls in its cadences on one's ears and deeper senses.

In der Spiegelnden Fluth, in Schnee der Alpen.... ... strahlt dein Bildniss.

I could see Mademoiselle Trebizond at the piano with the vision of the mind, her soul enrapt, her features transfigured. She was a figment of the emotions. And the Princess and I listened, she with a little dubitating look of perplexity, paying me no heed now, and I singularly moved. I walked down the corridor, past where Princess Alix stood, and as I went by I could have put out my arm and drawn her to me. She was wonderful in her beauty and her pride.

Deutlich schimmert auf jedem purpur blaettchen.

But I went by and opened the door that gave upon the saloon stairs. Instantly the flood of music rolled into the room in a tide, and, glancing back, I saw the Princess stir. She came towards me.

"A voice is a beautiful machine," she said uncertainly as the notes died away.

I could not answer; but she may have read an answer in my eyes. She passed me just as the singer broke into something new, and entered the music gallery. A shaft of light struck out her figure boldly. I walked round to the second door at the head of the stairs. Right away in the corner was Mademoiselle, and by her Sir John Barraclough lounged on the sofa, stroking his moustache uneasily. But my eyes lingered on the two not at all, for they were drawn forthwith to another sight which filled me with astonishment. The barriers had been removed from several of the windows, the windows themselves were open, and I could discern the figures of men gathered without on the deck.

With an exclamation I ran forward, interrupting the mellifluous course of Schubert's Serenade, and Barraclough started to his feet.

"What is it?" he asked abruptly.

Mademoiselle turned on her stool and regarded me with curiosity, and behind the Princess was approaching slowly.

"The windows, man!" said I.

Mademoiselle burst into laughter. "It was so dark," she said prettily, "I could not see plainly. I must always have light when I play. And I made Sir John open them."

Barraclough fidgeted, but turned a cold face on me.

"What's all the fuss about?" he asked surlily.

I pointed to the figures which we could see through the open windows.

"Well, that's my business," he said shortly. "I'm in command, and I'm not a fool." As he spoke he fingered his revolver.

"Oh, do not be afraid. It is all right," said Mademoiselle cheerfully. "See, we will have more open. I will play them something. They are listening to my music. It will soothe them."

She cast a look at Sir John from her laughing dark eyes, and let her hands down on the keys with a bang, breaking into a jolly air of the boulevards.

"Stay," she cried, stopping quickly, "but I know one of your English tunes suitable for the sea. How do you call it? Tom-bolling!"

As she spoke she swerved softly into that favourite air, the English words running oddly from her lips.

"'Ere a sheer 'ulk lies poor Tom Bo-olling..."

From the deck came a burst of applause. She laughed in delight, and winked up at me.

"I can do more with them than your guns," she said boldly, and was sailing into the next verse when the Princess intervened.

"Mademoiselle," she said in French, "you are inconveniencing the officers. They have much to do."

Mademoiselle turned about angrily and met the Princess' gaze. She seemed about to fly out in a tempest, but as suddenly checked herself, leaving only a little frown on her forehead to witness to her annoyance. She had been engaged in a little triumph that suited her vanity, and she had been called away from it. I really do not think there was anything more than that in it—not then, at any rate. She rose.

"You are a tyrant, my princess," she said, and nodding sweetly to Barraclough and myself, left the gallery.

Princess Alix followed, her face pale and still. More than ever was I convinced that, whatever feelings the lady had inspired in the Prince, his sister was not party to them.



CHAPTER XII

IN THE SALOON

I think it was from that hour that I began to get on badly with Barraclough. It was in his power as acting captain, no doubt, to remit certain precautions, but the remission of those precautions was not to the credit of his head. He had been beguiled by the Siren, and she, doubtless, by her vanity or her freakishness. When she had gone he turned on me.

"What the devil do you want interfering, Phillimore?" he demanded. "I'm in charge here."

There never was a man so insensate. I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, it was not my interference that was successful," I said curtly.

He walked abruptly to the window and opened it wider I could not be mistaken as to the bulky form that blocked it.

"Nice music, captain," said Holgate's wheezing voice.

"I'll give you just three seconds to quit, or I'll put a hole through you, you infernal rascal," said Barraclough savagely, raising his revolver.

"Oh, we're in no hurry," said the mutineer cheerfully, and moved away.

I suppose that some gleam of reason prevented Barraclough from firing. He barred the windows afresh, and came back to me.

"Why the mischief doesn't he attack?" he exclaimed peevishly.

I did not know, but I was near guessing just then. In point of fact, I did guess that afternoon. I paid my usual visit to the forecastle and the hold. Legrand played the same farce with remarkable persistence, and I was no longer puzzled by him. He was biding his time, like Holgate, and his reasons were obvious. Holgate's dawned on me just then—but some of them only, as you shall see during the progress of this narrative.

He maintained his friendliness, inquired civilly after our health, and how the ladies bore the seclusion.

"I wish I could make it easier for them, but I can't, doctor," he said amiably.

He was an abominable liar, but I had a certain admiration for his effrontery. I was glad I could meet him on his own ground, so I answered deliberately:

"Of course, it would spoil your plans to get the job over."

He eyed me smiling. "As how, my friend," he asked.

"You would rather have us in charge of the treasure than yourself," I replied.

He laughed. "Doctor, there's imagination in you, as I've always said. It's a pity I made that blunder about you. Not that it matters now. Well, you've nicked it. What's the odds? You are welcome to the truth—now."

There was a perceptible emphasis on his last word.

"You're not afraid of the attack?" I said.

He shook his head. "Not much. While we have a common object we're all right. I'm afraid of success. Doctor, you've a penetrating eye. Why, the treasure might break us up. If you had sent it down to me I believe I'd have sent it back. That would have been your best chance. I wonder you didn't think of it. But you've got your flaws. If you'd sent that treasure down I'd have had to take it; and you might have sat down and waited on events. But it's too late now. I know where I am."

"And where's that?" I asked bluntly.

He smiled craftily. "We enter the Straits of Magellan this extra special night," he said. "Let's put it at that."

"And what's to come?" I asked in the same voice.

"Lord, one would suppose you in the counsels," he said equably. "And in a way you are. Well, you can hand over that treasure which you have been good enough to guard for me better than I could myself as soon as you will. I've no objection now. Good-evening, doctor."

He wheeled about and went off humming a tune. But I was staggered. That meant, if he were not lying again, that we were near the end of our tether, that the truce was up, and that....

My mind shuddered in its train of thought. There was only one possible end for us if Holgate was to secure himself; and he was capable of any infamy. As I looked at his broad back and bull neck I felt rage and hatred gather in me and surge together. But I was impotent then and there. I went back to our quarters sick at heart.

It was falling dark when I reached the state-rooms, and all was as usual. The same vacant face of quietude was presented to me in the corridor. Leaving the two men, of whom one was Grant, on guard, I went below to my cabin; and, as I did so, thought to look in upon Pye. Faint shafts of light streamed in by the open port, but I could see no one.

"Pye!" I called, and received no answer.

Well, it was of small consequence to us if Pye recovered or not, for he was negligible as a unit of our defence. But I was glad that the little man had sufficiently resumed what what might be called his manhood to be up and about again. Maybe, I thought with some amusement, I should find him airing himself in the corridor or disporting in the music-room. Coming out of my cabin, I groped my way along the passage in the direction of the stairs. When I reached the foot of them it was quite dark, and I stopped, arrested suddenly by a murmur of voices from the saloon beyond. I knew that some one must be on guard there, but I did not quite understand the murmur. I hesitated, making some inquiries in my mind. From the hour, I came to the conclusion that Barraclough was on duty, and I turned and entered the saloon, the door of which was ajar.

"Is that you, Barraclough?" I called.

My voice penetrated the darkness, which was here alleviated by the dull gleam from the port-holes. I heard a rustling, and I was sure it was of a woman's skirts.

"What do you want?" asked Barraclough in a leaden voice.

"Oh, nothing," said I as coldly; "I only thought I heard voices."

"Now what the——" He pulled himself up sharply, for with all his faults (and heaven knows I had yet to find how many they were) he was a gentleman.

"It is the doctor," came in Mademoiselle's pretty accents. "Oh, it is so cold upstairs, doctor. You must make us some machinery to warm us."

"We shall be colder yet, Mademoiselle," I replied indifferently; "we shall have the ices of Magellan refrigerating us to-morrow."

"Magellan," said Barraclough. "What the mischief does that mean?"

"Ask Mr. Holgate," I answered. "It's his affair, or he thinks it is. He has taken it on himself." I made my way to the electric-light knobs. "As it seems to be getting dark," I said, not without irony, "I will take the liberty of illuminating."

"Oh, it's none so dark," growled Barraclough. "We ought to be used to darkness by this time. We're not all children at nurse," he sneered palpably.

I turned the catch, but no light came. "It's gone wrong," I exclaimed.

"Yes, I did try it a little time ago," said Mademoiselle sweetly, "when Sir John and I were in so deep argument."

Of course it was a lie, but what did that matter. If I could have seen Barraclough's face at that moment I felt sure it would have advertised a sense of shame, despite his passivity. But Mademoiselle.... Well, I could see in the dusk the shadow of her face, and it was a handsome shadow. Almost I could see her smile. They were seated in the recesses of the saloon. I moved towards them.

"I suppose you understand the hang of this, Sir John," I said drily.

"I'm not a patent detective," he answered with his arrogant sneer, but I paid no heed, for I felt sure of settling him then and there.

"I suppose it has occurred to you to reflect on whose grace we have depended for our electric supply," I said mildly.

"I know that it comes from the engine-room, if that's what you mean," he replied bluntly.

"And now it's cut off," I said.

There was a pause, and it was the lady who broke it.

"What is it that you mean, doctor?"

I addressed her. "The mutineers cut off the light preparatory to an attack."

"You are the most wonderful sleuth-hound, Dr. Phillimore," said Barraclough with a hard laugh; "your talents are quite thrown away."

"I regret to say they are here," I answered sharply. "And where would he be if he had paid some attention to the patent detective? I tell you again, Sir John Barraclough, that we've got to expect an attack to-night, and that's why the light is gone."

A man may endure hostility and defeat; he may suffer shame and injustice; he may undergo pangs of jealousy and remorse. All these things are dispiriting or humiliating, but I declare that I would willingly experience them all if I might save myself from the supreme dishonour of appearing in a ridiculous role. I had spoken strongly because I felt warmly, and there was a note of dictatorial assurance in my voice which might have convinced, or at least silenced, Barraclough. But I had left the keys down, and to my shocking discomfiture as I finished my declamation the saloon was at a stroke flooded with light.

The radiance discovered to me Mademoiselle's piquante face, her eyes smiling, her lips full and pouting, and close beside her Barraclough's fair Saxon jowl. He grinned at me, but said nothing, for which perhaps I should have been grateful. But I was not.

"But this is in our honour, then?" suggested Mademoiselle Yvonne prettily.

I had no fancy for her, but I did not mind her little sarcasm.

I bowed. "No doubt to celebrate my oratory," I said, recovering myself. "But as we do not know how long Mr. Holgate will condescend to continue his compliment we may as well make the most of it."

"You're a cool hand, Phillimore," said Barraclough, now with the good temper of one who has triumphed.

"But none so cool as Holgate," I returned him in the same spirit, "for he has just warned me that his reasons for not attacking us are at an end." He regarded me interrogatively. "Holgate is not only a cool hand, but a cunning hand, a far-reasoning hand. He has let us take care of his treasure until he was ready for it."

"What do you mean?" asked Barraclough in astonishment.

"His men might have become demoralised if he had seized the safe. He has, therefore, feigned to them that it was not practicable. That has been his reason for our security—not tender mercy for us, you may guess. So we have kept his treasure safe, and now—he wants it."

"Why now?" queried Barraclough, who frowned.

"That's Holgate's secret. I suppose he knows what he is going to do and what destination he wants. We don't. Anyway, we're turning through Magellan to-night, and he has no further use for us."

"I wish I'd shot that fiend to-day," said Barraclough savagely.

Mademoiselle looked from one to the other, a curious expression on her face.

"He is a remarkable man, this 'Olgate?" she asked.

"He is—pardon, Mademoiselle—the devil," said Barraclough.

She laughed her fluting laughter. "Oh, but the devil may be perhaps converted," she said. "He may be tamed. You say music have powers to tame the savage breast." She tapped her bosom dramatically, and smiled. "There is many men that may be tamed."

She cast a soft glance at Barraclough and then at me.

But I only got the edge of it, for at that moment I caught sight of a gray face, with little tufts of whisker under the ears, and glancing glasses that hung over the railings of the music balcony above. It was Pye. Had he been there long in the darkness or had he only just arrived, attracted by the light and the voices? The latter seemed the more probable assumption, for as I looked up he made an awkward movement as if he was embarrassed at being discovered. Yet if he had been eavesdropping, where was the harm? But somehow I felt annoyed. The others followed my glance, but the clerk had gone.

Mademoiselle Trebizond sighed and put her small hand over her mouth to hide a yawn.

"It is so what you call dull, Sir John," she protested in her coquettish way. "Nothing but sea, sea, and not even the chance to go on deck. I would sooner have the mutineers. Oh, but it was insensate to leave Europe and France. No, it is a country the most diabolic this side of the ocean. What is there under the sea, Sir John?"

"Why, the fishes, Mademoiselle," said he, grinning.

"No, no; understand me, Monsieur. I mean under the ground. What is there?" She waved her hands. "Sea, sea, sea, nothing else, and savages," she added thoughtfully.

"They would be interesting," I suggested drily.

She looked at me. "My good friend, doctor, you are right," she said charmingly. "More interesting than this company. Monsieur 'Olgate, he is interesting, is it not?"

"We may have an opportunity of judging presently," said I lightly.

Mademoiselle got up and peered out of the port-holes. The glow of the electric light in the luxurious saloon threw into blueness the stark darkness of the evening. Nothing was visible, but through the ports streamed the cadences of the water rising and falling about the hull. It had its picturesque side, that scene, and looked at with sympathetic eyes the setting was romantic, whatever tragedy might follow. That it was to be tragedy I was assured, but this pretty, emotional butterfly had no such thoughts. Why should she have? She was safeguarded by the prince of a regnant line; she was to be the mistress of millions; and she could coquette at will in dark corners with handsome officers. She was bored, no doubt, and when dominoes with her maid failed her, she had Barraclough to fall back on, and there was her art behind all if she had only an audience. I began to see the explanation of that astonishing scene earlier in the day. She was vain to her finger-tips; she loved sensations; and it was trying even to be the betrothed of a royal prince if divorced from excitements to her vanity. After all, Prince Frederic, apart from his lineage, was an ordinary mortal, and his conversation was not stimulating. In Germany or in Paris Mademoiselle would have footed it happily as the consort even of a dethroned prince; but what was to be got out of the eternal wash and silence of the ocean, out of the sea, sea, sea, as she herself phrased it?

She came back from the port-hole. "It is so dull," she said, and yawned politely. Well, it was dull, but perhaps dulness was more pleasant than the excitements which we were promised. With a flirt of her eyes she left us.

When she was gone Barraclough eyed me coldly and steadily.

"You didn't say all you had to say," he remarked.

"No, I didn't. Lights or no lights, Holgate will attack presently—I will not pin myself to to-night. He is where he wants to be, or will be soon. Then he has no use for us"—I paused—"women or men."

"Good God, do you think him that sort of scoundrel?" he inquired sharply.

"What has he done? Played with us as a cat with mice. Oh, he's the most unholy ruffian I've ever struck. And you know it. Look at his face. No, Barraclough, it's death, it's death to every man jack."

"And the women?" he said hesitatingly.

I too hesitated. "No, I don't credit him with that. He threatened, but I don't quite believe. Yet I don't know. No; I think it's a question of a terminus for all of us, man and woman"—I paused—"including your pretty friend there."

He turned sharply on me, but made no remark. His eyelids were drawn and heavy and his eyes surcharged. He appeared to be under the stress of some severe thought. I moved away, leaving it at that, for it was obvious that he was moved. As I reached the door I happened to glance back. Barraclough stood where I had left him, his brows knitted; but my eyes passed from him to the gallery, and there lighted on Mademoiselle, who stood with one hand on the railing gazing down at Barraclough. She had her hand to her heart, and her face was white like death, but that may have been the effect of the electric light. I wondered, as I had wondered about Pye, how long she had been there, and if she had heard. Had she spied on us of a set purpose? If so (God help her!) she had taken no good of her eavesdropping. A pity for her seized me. She was still and silent in the course of my gaze, but, as I looked, the ship heeled, her bosom struck the railing heavily, and she uttered a tiny cry. Barraclough glanced up and saw her. As I went out a cold blast streamed off the sea and entered the open ports; the waters rocked and roared. I guessed that we were entering the channel.

I had made my report to Barraclough, but I had to report to the Prince. When I reached his cabin I found him seated before his table, engaged in sorting a number of documents. He wore glasses, which I had never seen on him before, and he proffered me a severe frown as I entered. I have never to this day rightly assessed the character of Prince Frederic of Hochburg, so many odd ingredients entered into it. He was dictatorial, he was even domineering, he was hard-working, and he was conscientious. About these qualities I had already made up my mind. But his acts had been wholly in disregard of the rhythmical and regular conventions which he should thus have associated with himself. He had broken with his fatherland, he had thrown over dynastic laws, he had gone by his will alone, and no red tape. Perhaps there was the solution. He had gone by his conscience. I have said I was convinced of his conscientiousness, and possibly in these strange departures from the code of his fathers he was following a new and internal guide, to the detriment of his own material interests. He had abandoned the essence while retaining the forms of his birth and breeding. At least, this is but my assumption; his actions must explain him for himself. I have set down faithfully how he behaved from the first moment I met him. Let him be judged by that.

The Prince, then, who had violated the traditions of his house by his proposed alliance, was occupied in his accounts. That, at any rate, is what I gathered from the hasty glance I got at the sheets of figures before him.

"Well, sir?" said he brusquely.

"I report, sir, that we have entered the Straits of Magellan, and that we have every reason to look for an attack at any moment," I said formally.

He dropped his pen. "So!" he said, nodding quite pleasantly.

"It is just as well that it comes, doctor. We have been too long on the rack. It has done us no good."

"I think you are right, sir," I answered; "and, on the other hand, it has been of service to the mutineers."

He looked perplexed. "We have taken charge of the safes for them," I explained.

He sat silent awhile, and then mechanically curled his moustache upwards.

"Yes—yes—yes," he said. "You are right. That, then, is the reason. This man is clever."

It seemed the echo of what his lady-love had said a quarter of an hour before. I made no reply, as none seemed necessary. He went to the barred window, in which a gap was open, letting in the night, and the act recalled again to me Mademoiselle. Was this scion of royalty perishing for an idea? He looked very strong, very capable, and rather wonderful just then. I had never been drawn to him, but I had at the moment some understanding of what it might be to be the subject of so masterful and unreasonable a man. Yet now he was not at all unreasonable, or even masterful. He turned back to me.

"Doctor," he said gently, "we must see that the ladies are not incommoded."

"We will all do our best," I answered, wondering if he knew how inadequate a word he had used. Incommoded! Good heavens! Was my knowledge of Holgate to go for nothing? What would be the end? Was the man an idealist? He seemed sunk in a dream, and I saw his face soften as he stared out at the sea. Compassion gushed in my heart. I turned away.



CHAPTER XIII

THE FOG

My watch ended at ten o'clock, and I went direct to my cabin. I was a light sleeper, and could depend upon awaking at the slightest sound. Thus I had no fear that I should be wanting in an emergency, quite apart from the fact that the steward was stationed at the opening into the saloon with strict orders.

I suppose it must have been three hours later that I sat up in my bunk with a consciousness that something was wrong. I listened, but I could hear no sound, and I rose to my feet, seizing my revolver. Then I understood. It was precisely that there was no sound, or rather that sounds had dwindled, that I awoke. The screw had stopped. I opened the door and went along the passage towards the saloon. Grant was at the foot of the stairs, and I hailed him.

"No, sir, I don't know, sir," he answered me in respect of my questions.

Well, one had to find out at any cost, and I ran up the stairs and got access to the corridor of the state-rooms. Here were gathered the Prince, Barraclough, Lane, and the quartermaster.

"I believe he's been on the P.S.N.C," Lane was saying as I came up. "He ought to be able to pull her through."

"The question is, does he want to?" asked Barraclough grimly.

"Good heavens, who wants to lock his ship in these accursed bilboes?" cried the purser. "It's enough to freeze one's hair stiff. Can you see anything?"

For answer, Barraclough threw open the door that led upon the deck, and it was as if a vent had yawned in the night. It was pitch black, and, what was worse, banks of fog rolled along the thwarts. Lane drew back a step, and shivered.

"Oh! my uncle!" he exclaimed.

"You do not see any sign of them?" inquired the Prince imperturbably.

Barraclough shook his head. "If they're coming they'll have their work cut out to find their way," he said.

"Oh, let 'em all come this weather," said Lane agreeably. "'I wish I'd bought ducks'—I mean fires."

He was shivering continuously and I pushed him back. "Don't be a fool," said I. "We want all hands in good form during the next four-and-twenty hours."

I peered out of the door, but the screen of sea fog shut off the view; it was as if I gazed at a blank wall, and the cold was intense.

"What do you guess has happened?" I asked Barraclough.

"He's got her in a narrow gut somewhere and is frightened. I've only been through here twice in my life, and in both cases it was broad daylight. This is where they melt fogs for the world. Oh, hang it, let's have the door shut."

He shut it as he spoke, and I looked round. The Prince sat on a sofa and waited. Lane blew on his fingers and whistled. Ellison stood, the respectful seaman as ever.

"They've been kind about the electric light," observed Barraclough, with a grin at me.

I said nothing, for there was nothing I could rejoin in the circumstances. I retraced my way to the door and opened it.

"Oh! confound it all!" roared Barraclough, as the fog rolled in. "Don't you see the ladies are here?"

I turned back, but only Princess Alix was visible. She moved white and tall under the lights. I shut the door again.

"Why has the yacht stopped, Frederic?" she asked her brother.

"The fog," he answered, with a gesture towards the door.

She looked towards us, her upper lip lifted in a charming excitement and the colour flying in her cheeks. Then she came forward swiftly, and, even as she did so, the Sea Queen heeled over, rolling and trembling from her copper sheathing upwards. The shock sent me against the wall, and Barraclough also staggered. Princess Alix in her flight was precipitated forward and ran upon me. She put up her hands instinctively to save herself, but in the rush she gathered momentum, and swung across the dozen paces between where she had been and the door with the speed of an arrow discharged in the air. Her palms struck the woodwork with a resounding slap, but the full force of her sweet body fell on me. For one instant I held her in my arms quite closely, her breath upon my face.

"Are you hurt, Princess?" I gasped.

"Oh! my hands!" she cried pitifully, and then ceased suddenly. She withdrew a little. "They sting," she said, also breathlessly. "But you—you must be injured."

"I am a little out of breath," I answered, "but I was never better in my life." I cannot say why I blurted this forth. Somehow I was beyond myself.

"She has struck!" cried Barraclough.

The Sea Queen righted herself slowly.

"I can't stand this," I said. "I'm going to find out."

I glanced at the Princess, but she stood clinging to the wall, her bosom heaving, her eyes on Barraclough. I opened the door, and, stepping out, closed it again behind me. I was determined to find out what had happened.

After all, it was not a very hazardous enterprise. Holgate had shown no disposition to take advantage of my visits to the forecastle, and it was pretty clear that no attack was possible at the moment. Nevertheless, I will confess that I experienced a little elation in feeling my way through the dense darkness along the saloon. It is not always possible to analyse one's feelings, but I think afterwards (not at the time) I connected this mood with the Princess. I had held her in my arms, her face to mine, and I was suddenly exalted to be capable of great things. There was nothing I would not have dared then, no danger from which I would have shrunk, no risk I would not have taken, however foolhardy. In a sense I walked on air; I was lunatic; and all because I had held for an instant of time an adorable woman in my arms with no consent of hers. I believe now (and I hope it will not be counted against me) that it was with a little swagger I opened the door and stepped forth into the rolling fog.

The Sea Queen stirred a little as if to show she still lived, but there was no motion perceptible. I had buttoned up my coat round my neck, but even so the mists from the ice-clad hills on either side of the passage bit hard into me. I groped to the chart-house and then paused. A twinkle of light was visible ahead and aloft. It was the bridge. I launched myself suddenly into the vacancy before me, and went like hoodman blind with arms outstretched towards the railing. I struck an iron pillar, and guiding myself from it to another, reached at last the foot of the ladder that ran up. This I mounted very deliberately and carefully until I had come to the bridge itself, where a dull light burned by the binnacle. Instantly I was taken by the throat.

I struggled with my assailant at a disadvantage, as I was unable to reach his face, owing to his superior grip of me; but I managed to get a leg at the back of his, and though the pressure on my windpipe was terrible, and I felt that I was weakening fast, I threw him back against the railings. As I did so a light was thrust into my face, and I heard Holgate's voice.

"It's the doctor. All right, Pierce. Hands off, man."

Even as he spoke my antagonist loosened his hold, and I drew off, the relaxed artery jumping in my throat painfully.

"By thunder, doctor, you were near gone," went on Holgate in his ruminating voice. "Pierce don't take his fingers off no more than a bull-dog when he has once caught on. Lucky I had a suspicion of you. I thought no one would be such a fool as to venture save you. Glad to see you as always, if unexpectedly. Any news?"

He lighted a cigar as he spoke, and the fog was roseate about his head. I recovered my breath as best I might.

"As you are reserving us—Holgate, for a destiny of your own," I panted, "and we are not—particularly anxious to anticipate it—thought I would find out—if we are going down."

He laughed fatly. "I like you, doctor. Upon my soul I do. It's a real pity we couldn't have hit it off. No; you can sleep calmly. There's no going down; well, not yet. I've been through these Straits a score of times, and in all weathers, and I've learned this much, that a fog spells the red flag. That's all, Dr. Phillimore. She's got no more than steering way on her, and I'll pull her up presently."

"Well," said I. "I suppose it matters nothing to us, but a wreck is a frightening matter this weather."

He seemed to be studying me, and then laughed. "All serene. If you have made up your mind to your fate there's nothing to be said. But I'm in charge here, and not Sir John Barraclough. I suppose he has some use, but I've not made it out up till now."

"Holgate," said I suddenly, "this vessel's in your hands till she's out of the Straits, if she's ever out. I don't deny it. But I should like a little further light on destiny, so to speak. You reckon you can take the safes. What more do you want?"

"Nothing in the world, my lad," he said comfortably. "You've hit it. Nothing in the wide, wide world."

"Rubbish!" said I sharply. "Does any one suppose you're going to turn loose witnesses against you?"

He took the cigar from his mouth, and, though I could not discern his face in the fog, I knew its expression.

"Well, now, that's a new idea, and not a bad idea," he said equably. "Of course I should be running a risk, shouldn't I? But what's to be done in conflict with a temperament like mine? I can't help myself. Take your oath on one thing, doctor, and that is I'll die game. If the respectable folk whom I take pity on and land somewhere—somewhere nice—turn on me, why, I'll die game. But of course they won't. You know they won't, doctor."

This question was not worth answering: indeed, I knew it was not meant for an answer; it was a palpable gibe. I held my tongue, but now I knew I should get no information out of this soft-voiced ruffian until it suited him to give it. Our fate was still a mystery—if we were beaten in the struggle that was imminent, and I could not flatter myself with hopes of our victory.

I bade him good-night, for there was no reason to dispense with ceremonies; we were still enjoying our armed truce. But I had got no farther than the ladder when he hailed me through the gloom.

"I've pitched her to, now, doctor. You can sleep like a babe, and the Princess too."

I stopped—I knew not why; perhaps I had still a faint hope of discovering something.

"That means you will attack," I said calmly.

His figure loomed out upon me in the fog, the red cigar end burning in his mouth. "You don't mean that, my lad," said he, in an easy, affectionate tone. "I'm Lancashire born and Lancashire bred, and I'm shrewd enough to know a bit. You don't mean that, bless you. Look ye here, doctor; go and take your rest, and pray God to deliver you from your folly. A foolish man you were and that you be. You'll die that, my lad, I fear. Yet I would give you another chance. I liked you when I sat opposite to you in the tavern there."

"Ah, Holgate," said I, sighing deeply. "How many weary years ago, and your doing!"

I admit that this was theatrical; it was designed as such, and as a last appeal. I was afraid of that man, and that is the truth. I drew a bow at a venture. From the change in the position of the burning edge I gathered that he took his cigar out of his mouth. He was perceptibly silent for a time. Then the light went back.

"Well, you'll have a sound sleep if you take my advice," he said in his normal tones.

"And then ... a sounder," I said lightly.

"You always take too much for granted, doctor," he replied, laughing. "By the Lord, I wish I had your forward mind."

"You shall have anything you like of mine directly," I said flippantly, and began the descent of the ladder.

I was conscious that he leaned over the barrier of the bridge watching me, for I saw the point of his cigar, but that was soon swallowed up in the darkness, and I saw nothing more. The cold was so intense that my fingers had grown numb as I talked with Holgate, and I could hardly feel the iron; moreover, my feet were like lumps of ice and seemed to rest on nothing as they met the rungs. This, I imagine, was the reason of my mishap. At any rate, I missed a rung, lost my catch, and tumbled heavily down the last three or four steps, falling, to my surprise, not upon the hard deck, but upon some warmer, softer body. Remembering vividly and painfully my struggle with Pierce, I was on my guard, and grabbed the man that lay under me.

"For heaven's sake—" he gasped. "It's me—it's Pye."

I was astounded, and relaxed my hold! What was the little craven clerk doing there at this time of night, and in such weather?

"What——" I began, when he uttered an exclamation of terror, as it seemed.

"Dr. Phillimore!"

"That is so," I answered. "What on earth are you doing here?"

There was almost a whimper in his voice as he replied:

"The fog, doctor. I was foolish enough to wander out on the deck, and I lost my way. I've been straying about for twenty minutes or more. I couldn't find the door again."

"Well, you won't in this direction," I assured him. "This part of the country belongs to the enemy. You've strayed afield, my friend, so, if you'll give me your arm, I'll do my best to put you straight."

He thanked me, and did as I asked him, but, as I thought, somewhat timorously. His hand rested nervously inside my arm, as if he would have withdrawn it and fled at a moment's notice. And so we stumbled along the deck together to the state cabins.

I gave the signal on the door, and we were admitted by Ellison. There was no one else in the corridor except Lane at the farther end, and, to my surprise, the Princess. She was seated on a couch under the electric light, reading, clad in a long and flowing morning-gown. Her hand with the book had dropped a little as we entered, and her eyes sought us.

"There will be no alarm to-night, Ellison," I said on the spur of the moment, and I caught the Princess's eye. She rose, shut her book, and came towards us.

"You have come back safely," she said in a quick way.

"The fog was the only danger," I answered. "And it nearly did for Mr. Pye. You may confide your head to the pillow with a security to-night, Miss Morland. To-night Mr. Holgate is a sailor."

She did not seem to understand.

"His care is his ship to-night," I explained.

"You have placed us in your debt," she said. "I do not think my brother knows how much we are indebted to you."

I looked at Pye. The praise was pleasant on her lips, but I felt a little embarrassed. The clerk's eyes were fastened on the Princess Alix with a certain definite avidity of gaze. It was as if some strange animal had suddenly stiffened at the sight of prey and was watching greedily. The look repelled me; it struck horror to my marrow. I could have seized him, shaken his miserable little bones and thrown him into a weeping, cowardly heap on the floor. But as I looked his gaze came round to me, and behold! it was only the feeble watery eyes behind the gold-rimmed spectacles that I saw. With a bow to the Princess I proceeded on my way to give my report to her brother.



CHAPTER XIV

BARRACLOUGH TAKES A HAND

I did not take Holgate's advice, although I had instinctively made up my mind that he was sincere in offering it. What reason he had for expressing kindliness for me—if he had any—I could not say. I reflected that it might very well be of a piece with his astute plans. He might seek to serve some purpose by it. I was useful as a doctor attending to his wounded men, but I knew enough of him to guess that that alone would not suffice to keep him friendly. There must be another reason, unless, indeed, it was as he said, and he really had been captivated by my personal charm! This solution of the problem was flattering, of course, but I was not disposed to accept it. So deep was my mistrust of the arch schemer that I racked my brain to find an explanation for his conduct. This, needless to say, was not conducive to sleep, and I passed a bad night. It was profoundly still, but towards dawn the screw began to move again, and I concluded that the fog had lifted. I got up and looked out of the port, and could discern dimly the white sheets of the mountains not two furlongs distant. The Sea Queen began to tramp along at a slow pace at first, but finally, getting speed, resumed her normal rate of progress. If I knew Holgate he was still on the bridge, and he would remain there until the danger was over. If he was an abominable scoundrel, he was indubitably also an admirable seaman with a sense of duty to his ship.

I fell asleep shortly after that, and when I awoke the sun was full up, but setting low in the east, glittering upon a field of snowy pinnacles. I ascended to the state-rooms, and there found Barraclough, who had just come on duty. He had a cheerful eye, and scanned me curiously.

"Well, are we going to get through this?" he asked.

"We're going to get out of the Straits, I believe," I answered.

"Ah!" he said, and frowned, as he was accustomed to do when thinking deeply. He was not a man of much thought.

"And after that?" said he abruptly.

"The deluge," said I, shrugging my shoulders.

"Look here, Phillimore, do you believe we can hold out against Holgate's forces?" he asked seriously.

"I think we shall have to try," I replied evasively.

"I'm damned if we can," he said bluffly. "It's all infernal nonsense."

"Well, we've got to try," I repeated impatiently.

"Oh, well! yes, we've got to try," he admitted, "unless Holgate will hear reason."

"Good Lord, man, do you suppose he's risked all this to listen to reason now?" I asked in amazement.

Barraclough turned away. "Well, you see him. You ought to know," he growled. "If he doesn't, we're done."

"I don't advise you to tell the others that," I said drily.

He turned on me fiercely. "Who said I would?" he snapped. "Do you take me for a fool? And who's captain here? Dr. Phillimore, I'll have you know your place," he cried, in a black passion, unusual in him. "I'm commanding officer and responsible to none, not even the—Mr. Morland, by heaven, no—not on this ship, anyway!" And with that remarkable tempest of unreasonable fury he strode angrily away, leaving me annoyed and something abashed. Assuredly the situation, the waiting, the suspense, had played havoc with all our nerves, even with this stolid English gentleman's. There was the development, in fact, as plain as a pike-staff. This tension had worn on us. Barraclough lost his temper for inadequate reasons; the Prince shut himself in his room morosely, for I shall come to that presently; and Lane growled and grumbled so that it was difficult to avoid quarrelling with him. Indeed, it was only by silence that I averted an open collision on more than one occasion. Little Pye was as nervous as a hen; a sound set him jumping. As I came up the stairs noiselessly, I encountered him, and his whole body started.

"Good gracious, man!" said I, with good-humoured contempt, "you'll be skipping away from your own shadow next. How do you expect to stand up against Holgate with a spirit like that?"

He was pale even through the strong colour that the sun had beaten into him. He eyed me without replying for a moment, and then, with the ghost of his old manner, answered: "I expect I shall sit down to him."

The fingers with which he readjusted the glasses—his favourite trick—were tremulous.

Pye was to be counted out in case of an emergency, but Pye somehow set me thinking. Pye's cowardice was manifest—rampant, if one may use such a term; yet he had ventured into the fog the night before; not only so, but upon a deck which was filled in his eyes with horrid enemies, prowling in search of victims. How had he achieved that spirited action? It seemed incredible, yet I had come upon him at the foot of the bridge stairs, and I had his explanation. What induced the timid rabbit to venture out of his hutch upon such a night and in such circumstances? Frankly the riddle beat me, and I should have worried over it had it not been for other matters that seemed more immediately important. I have spoken of the Prince's seclusion. I admit now that it had already made an impression on me. He was, as became his nature and his training, a disciplinarian. Each man had his place and his duties, and Prince Frederic appeared at due seasons and shared in the responsibilities. He did not shirk, in accordance with his promise. But for the rest he had withdrawn himself now for three days from the general company. His meals were served with his sister and Mademoiselle, but from what I saw he was most often in his own cabin; and here it was I got a glimpse of him once again—a glimpse, I mean, into that strange and compound character.

I forget the occasion, but it was necessary that I should see him, and I entered the cabin after knocking. When we were done he pulled his papers before him and sat looking at them dully.