to save the father of the brave
ma'amselle. But I have no love for the Ingleesh rope or the Ingleesh
madhouse--so _bon voyage_, messieurs."

And before they could guess his intention the big knife was driven home,
through the blue blouse, into his own tumultuous heart.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE STING OF THE NETTLE

The moment when the _Snipe_ was first sighted from the bridge of the
_Cobra_ was immediately after Brant's refusal to put into Plymouth to
allow Miss Jimpson to communicate with her "young man." The girl had
just turned away to rejoin Violet in the saloon, when her quick ears
caught the phrase--

"There's a torpedo craft of sorts away to the nor'-east, and I'm
jiggered if I don't think she's chasing us."

The speaker was Bully Cheeseman, who thus passed on his discovery to the
captain. The latter took a long survey of the distant destroyer through
his telescope, and then, cocking his eye to see if Nettle was within
earshot, assented to the mate's statement in a string of imprecations,
the pith of which was that the stranger was travelling thirty knots to
their twenty.

Which was perfectly true as far as it went, though had he so wished
Brant might have added that the _Cobra_, fast as she was moving through
the water, was only going at half her possible speed of forty knots. But
he was seized with a malicious desire to raise false hopes on the part
of his prisoners, and he wanted Nettle to draw the inference that the
war vessel could easily overtake them.

To add to the disappointment of the girl who had flouted him he sent
verbal instructions to the engine-room to reduce the speed still
further, with the result, as we know, that the _Snipe_ began to rapidly
creep up. Nettle, after taking in the situation as she believed it to
exist, ran excitedly into the saloon and imparted the glad tidings to
Violet.

"The brute refused to call at Plymouth, but we've beat him for all
that," she cried. "There's a Navy ship chevying us and catching up like
mad. Your friends must have got news through to the admiral at Plymouth,
and he's sent that dear dirty little boat after us. We shall soon be all
right now, Miss Maynard."

The girl's cheery optimism was infectious, and Violet roused herself
from the apathy of despair. "I hope so, dear," she said, leaping up from
the couch where she had spent the miserable night. "Shall we go out on
deck and watch Brant's discomfiture?"

But Nettle was wise according to her