the fact that even the most
ferocious had a certain kindliness of eye, and showed their teeth almost
idiotically.

"Welcome!" said the leader,--"welcome to the Pirates' Cave! The Red
Rover of the North Fork of the Stanislaus River salutes the Queen of the
Pirate Isle!" He rose up and made an extraordinary bow. It was repeated
by the others with more or less exaggeration, to the point of one
humorist losing his balance!

"Oh, thank you very much," said Polly timidly, but drawing her little
flock closer to her with a small protecting arm; "but could you--would
you--please--tell us--what time it is?"

"We are approaching the middle of Next Week," said the leader gravely;
"but what of that? Time is made for slaves! The Red Rover seeks it not!
Why should the Queen?"

"I think we must be going," hesitated Polly, yet by no means displeased
with the recognition of her rank.

"Not until we have paid homage to Your Majesty," returned the leader.
"What ho! there! Let Brother Step-and-Fetch-It pass the Queen around
that we may do her honor." Observing that Polly shrank slightly back,
he added: "Fear nothing; the man who hurts a hair of Her Majesty's head
dies by this hand. Ah! ha!"

The others all said ha! ha! and danced alternately on one leg and then
on the other, but always with the same dark resemblance to Christy
Minstrels. Brother Step-and-Fetch-It, whose very long beard had a
confusing suggestion of being a part of the leader's buffalo robe,
lifted her gently in his arms and carried her to the Red Rovers in turn.
Each one bestowed a kiss upon her cheek or forehead, and would have
taken her in his arms, or on his knees, or otherwise lingered over
his salute, but they were sternly restrained by their leader. When the
solemn rite was concluded, Step-and-Fetch-It paid his own courtesy
with an extra squeeze of the curly head, and deposited her again in the
truck, a little frightened, a little astonished, but with a considerable
accession to her dignity. Hickory and Patsey looked on with stupefied
amazement. Wan Lee alone remained stolid and unimpressed, regarding the
scene with calm and triangular eyes.

"Will Your Majesty see the Red Rovers dance?"

"No, if you please," said Polly, with gentle seriousness.

"Will Your Majesty fire this barrel of gunpowder, or tap this breaker of
grog?"

"No, I thank you."

"Is there no command Your Majesty would lay upon us?"

"No, please," said Polly, in a failing voice.

"Is