ast on the nameless ship, where the Russian ensign had hung ten
minutes before. It was there no longer; the black flag took its place.

"Pirates, by the very devil!" said the skipper; and then he whistled
long and loud and shrilly as a man who has solved a sum.

"Gentlemen," he added very slowly, "I said I would resign this ship at
New York: with your permission I will withdraw that. I will sail with
you wherever you go."

He shook our hands heartily, as though the discovery of our purpose had
unclouded his mind. But we had no time for fuller understanding, for at
that moment the air itself seemed torn apart by a great concussion, and
a shell burst in the water no more than fifty yards ahead of us. When
the knowledge that we were not hit was sure on the men's part, they
bellowed lustily; and old Dan fired his gun into the air with a great
shout. Yet we knew that all this was the cheapest bravado; and when the
skipper touched the bell to stop our engines, I was sure that he was
wise.

"That's the end of it, then," I said. "Well, it's pretty ignominious,
isn't it, to be shot down like fools on our own quarter-deck?"

"Wait awhile," he answered, looking anxiously behind him, where a mist
gathered on the sea; "let 'em lower a boat, the lubbers!"

By this time the great vessel rode still some quarter of a mile away
from us; but the glass showed me the men upon her decks, and
conspicuous amongst them I saw the form of Captain Black standing by
the steam steering gear. Others below were moving at the davits, so
that in a small space a launch was riding in a still sea, and was
making for us. I watched her with nerves strained and lips dry; she
seemed to me the message boat from Death itself.

"Stand steady, and wait for me!" suddenly yelled the skipper, his
fingers moving nervously, and his look continually turning to the banks
of mist behind us. "When I sing 'Fire!' pick your men!"

The boat was so near that you could see the faces in it; and three of
the five I recognised, for I had seen them in the room of the Rue
Joubert. The others were not known to me, but had rascally
countenances; and one of them was a Chinaman's. The man who was in
command was the fellow "Roaring John"; and when he was within hail he
stood and bawled--

"What ship?"

"My ship!" roared back the skipper, again looking at the mist-clouds,
and my heart gave a bound when I read his purpose: we were drifting
into them.

"And who may you be?" ba