e murmured faintly. 'What are you doing on board?
Who's tied me up like this?'

'See here!' replied the Prince, 'I don't want to have any arguments, but
this yacht must return to Ostend at once, where you will be given up to
the authorities.'

'Really!' snarled Mr Tom Jackson. 'Shall I!' Then he called out in
French to the man at the wheel, 'Hi Andre! let these two be put off in
the dinghy.'

It was a peculiar situation. Certain of nothing but the possession of
Nella's revolver, the Prince scarcely knew whether to carry the argument
further, and with stronger measures, or to accept the situation with as
much dignity as the circumstances would permit.

'Let us take the dinghy,' said Nella; 'we can row ashore in an hour.'

He felt that she was right. To leave the yacht in such a manner seemed
somewhat ignominious, and it certainly involved the escape of that
profound villain, Mr Thomas Jackson. But what else could be done? The
Prince and Nella constituted one party on the vessel; they knew their
own strength, but they did not know the strength of their opponents.
They held the hostile ringleader bound and captive, but this man had
proved himself capable of giving orders, and even to gag him would not
help them if the captain of the yacht persisted in his obstinate course.
Moreover, there was a distinct objection to promiscuous shooting; the
Prince felt that; there was no knowing how promiscuous shooting might
end.

'We will take the dinghy,' said the Prince quickly, to the captain.

A bell rang below, and a sailor and the Negro boy appeared on deck. The
pulsations of the screw grew less rapid. The yacht stopped. The dinghy
was lowered. As the Prince and Nella prepared to descend into the little
cock-boat Mr Tom Jackson addressed Nella, all bound as he lay.

'Good-bye,' he said, 'I shall see you again, never fear.'.

In another moment they were in the dinghy, and the dinghy was adrift.
The yacht's screw chumed the water, and the beautiful vessel slipped
away from them. As it receded a figure appeared at the stem. It was Mr
Thomas Jackson.

He had been released by his minions. He held a white handkerchief to
his ear, and offered a calm, enigmatic smile to the two forlorn but
victorious occupants of the dinghy. Jules had been defeated for once
in his life; or perhaps it would be more just to say that he had been
out-manoeuvred. Men like Jules are incapable of being defeated. It was
characteristic of his luck that