, and she fell into a doze.
When she woke she was startled to see by her wrist watch that it was after
eleven. The yacht was plowing along through the velvet blackness of the
night. The inclination to sleep gone, Jane decided to walk the deck until
she was as bodily tired as she was mentally. All the hidden terror was
gone. To-morrow these absurd pirates would be on their way.

Study the situation as she might, she could discover no flaw in this
whimsical madman's plans. He held the crew in his palm, even as he held
Cleigh--by covetousness. Cleigh would never dare send the British after
Cunningham; and the crew would obey him to the letter because that meant
safety and recompense. The Great Adventure Company! Only by an act of God!
And what could possibly happen between now and the arrival of the
_Haarlem_?

Cleigh had evidently turned in, for through the transoms she saw that the
salon lights were out. She circled the deck house six times, then went up
to the bow and stared down the cutwater at the phosphorescence. Blue
fire! The eternal marvel of the sea!

A hand fell upon her shoulder. She thought it would be Denny's. It was
Flint's!

"Be a good sport, an' give us a kiss!"

She drew back, but he caught her arm. His breath was foul with tobacco and
whisky.

"All right, I'll take it!"

With her free hand she struck him in the face. It was a sound blow, for
Jane was no weakling. That should have warned Flint that a struggle would
not be worth while. But where's the drunken man with caution? The blow
stung Flint equally in flesh and spirit. He would kiss this woman if it
was the last thing he ever did!

Jane fought him savagely, never thinking to call to the bridge. Twice she
escaped, but each time the fool managed to grasp either her waist or her
skirt. Then out of nowhere came the voice of Cunningham:

"Flint!"

Dishevelled and breathless, Jane found herself free. She stumbled to the
rail and rested there for a moment. Dimly she could see the two men
enacting a weird shadow dance. Then it came to her that Cunningham would
not be strong enough to vanquish Flint, so she ran aft to rouse Denny.

As she went down the companionway, her knees threatening to give way, she
heard voices, blows, crashings against the partitions. Instinct told her
to seek her cabin and barricade the door; curiosity drove her through the
two darkened salons to the forward passage. Only a single lamp was on, but
that was enough. Antho