.... Oh, they'll want a doctor."

"That's true. Well, God bless you," said he, placidly yielding, and
unlocked the door. I had provided myself with a flag, and now emerged
upon the deck clasping it in one hand.

I walked past the barred windows of the music-room and saloon, and past
the smoking-room beyond, until I was level with the chart-house. I was
on the windward side of the yacht, and she was heeling gently as she
ran down the coastline under a full head of steam. Above me I could
discern also the white spread of her wings, and from the look of the
long white water that leaped and fell off her sides in a welter I
guessed that we must be footing it to a pretty tune. If poor McCrae had
been right in estimating her rate at eighteen knots, she could not be
making much less than sixteen now.

The sails were full of noise, and the wind rattled and sang in the
ventilators. The first sight that struck me as I came back square with
the bridge was a man swinging in a travelling-cradle and leisurely
painting the funnel. It seemed so peaceful an occupation, and so
strangely out of accord with those terrible transactions of the night,
that I stared in wonder. Then my eyes went to the bridge and marked
something more in keeping with the situation, for the bridge had been
boarded about in the rear and sides with a wall of timber, so that the
helmsman and the man in charge, Holgate or another, were invisible from
the deck below, as also from the hurricane-deck. I suppose that this
structure had been put together in memory of the Prince's prowess, and
of his ruthless performances from the hurricane-deck.

I advanced to the end of the deck and hailed the forecastle, waving my
flag.

"Is Mr. Holgate there?" I called out. "I wish to see him," and again I
waved my flag.

A man came into the open on the deck below and stared up at me, and
presently after he was joined by another whom I recognised as Gray.
They exchanged words, and I knew also from a sound overhead that some
one was peering at me from the bridge. Once more I called out for
Holgate, brandishing my flag vigorously: and then I heard Holgate's
voice below.

"Hold on, doctor!"

He emerged into my line of vision and with him was Pierce, his lank red
face upturned to me, his lower jaw in its socket. Gray gesticulated,
indicating me, and Holgate stood passively looking at me. Suddenly the
ex-boatswain put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a revolver and
presented at