"And you'd still marry
this woman if she had another husband living?"

"Of course. Haven't I told you that I've thought the whole thing
thoroughly over already, and I'm not inclined to stick at trifles? But I
may tell you that divorce is easy in these Mohammedan countries, and I
shall take care to get the girl set legally free before we get away from
here. You don't catch me getting mixed with bigamy."

"But tell me. Is a Mohammedan marriage made here binding for an
Englishman?"

"It's as legally binding as if the Archbishop of Canterbury tied the
knot."

"Very well," said Kettle. "Now let me tell you, sir, for the last time,
that I don't like what you're going to do. To my mind, it's not a nice
thing marrying a woman that you evidently despise, just for her money."

Wenlock flushed. "Look here," he said, "I refuse to be lectured,
especially by you. Aren't you under promise to get L50 from me the
moment I'm safely married? And didn't you fairly jump at the chance of
fingering it."

Captain Kettle did not hit this man who cast such an unpleasant
imputation on him; he did not even let him feel the lash of his tongue
in return. He merely smiled grimly, and said: "Get down into the boat,
you and your case of rifles."

For the moment Wenlock started and hesitated. He seemed to detect
something ominous in this order. But then he took a brace on his
courage, and after a couple of deck hands had lowered the rifles into
the dancing boat, he clambered gingerly down after them, and sat himself
beside the white-robed man in the stern sheets. Kettle followed, and
the boat headed off for the opening between the reefs.

The Indian Ocean swells swung beneath them, and presently were breaking
on the grim stone barriers on either hand in a roar of sound. The
triangular dorsal fins of a couple of sharks convoyed them in, in case
of accidents; and overhead a crowd of sea-fowl screamed and swooped and
circled. But none of these things interested them. The town ahead, which
jerked nearer to every tug of the oars, held the eye. In it was Teresa
Anderson, heiress, a personage of whom each of them had his own private
conception. In it also were fanatical Arabs, whom they hoped the fear of
shadowy British gunboats would deter from open piracy.

The boat passed between a cluster of ragged shipping which swayed at the
anchorage, and Wenlock might have stared with curious eyes (had he been
so minded) on real dhows which had even then go