that called up a vague
recollection which she strove to master.

"Who are you?" she cried again.

"Sir Harry Morgan!" answered the horseman, bowing low over the saddle,
"a free sailor at your service, ma'am."

"My God!" cried Alvarado, who had listened attentively, "the buccaneer?"

"The same," answered Morgan turning to him.

"Sir Harry Morgan! Were you not Governor of Jamaica last year?" asked
Mercedes in astonishment.

"I had that honor, lady."

"Why are you now in arms against us?"

"A new king, Mistress de Lara, sits the English throne. He likes me not.
I and these gallant seamen are going to establish a kingdom in some
sweet island in the South Seas, with our good swords. I would fain have
a woman to bear me company on the throne. Since I saw you in Jamaica
last year, I have designed you for the honor----"

"Monster!" screamed the girl, appalled by the hideous leer which
accompanied his words. "Rather anything----"

"Sir," interrupted Alvarado, "you are an Englishman. Your past rank
should warrant you a gentleman, but for this. There is no war between
England and Spain. What is the meaning of this outrage? This lady is the
daughter of the Viceroy of Venezuela. I am his captain and the
commandante of yonder city of La Guayra. You have waylaid us, taken us
at a disadvantage. My men are killed. For this assault His Excellency
will exact bloody reparation. Meanwhile give order that we be unbound,
and let us pass."

"Ho, ho!" laughed the buccaneer. "Think you I fear the Viceroy? Nay, not
His Majesty of Spain himself! I came here with set purpose to take La
Guayra and then Caracas, and to bear away with me this pretty lady upon
whom, I repeat, I design to bestow the honor of my name."

As he spoke he leaned toward Mercedes, threw his arm around her waist,
and before she was even aware of her intention, kissed her roughly on
the cheek.

"Lads," he cried, "three cheers for the future Lady Morgan!"

The proud Spanish girl turned white as death under this insult. Her eyes
flashed like coals of fire. Morgan was close beside her. She was without
weapon save a jeweled whip that hung at her wrist. Before the first note
of a cheer could break from the lips of the men she lifted it and struck
him violently again and again full in the face.

"Thou devil!" cried the captain in fury, whipping out his sword and
menacing her with it.

"Strike!" cried Mercedes bravely, "and let my blood wash out the insult
that you