ons until we reach London,
and there delivered up to justice."

"Sail in sight!" shouted the man at the helm, and several of the crew
whispered in terror; "Pirates!"

Scudamore fixed his green-gray eyes on the captain and, smiling
contemptuously, said in tones which had suddenly grown hoarse.

"I think it might be advisable to defer my punishment a few hours; you
or some one else might need my services during the interval."

"That is no affair of yours," returned the captain. "To die without a
doctor or to be thrown into the sea by his orders is much the same
thing."

"Ha! ha! ha! You see, it might have been better for you in the end, had
you relieved the ship of the sick in the first place, instead of
throwing your guns overboard. But that's _your_ affair."

Captain Rolls silently nodded to the men to take the doctor below. Then
he gave orders that the bars of silver should be concealed in the hold,
and that every man should go to his post to be prepared for any attack.
He himself, taking his weapons, went to his usual station and, without
changing the vessel's course in the least, ordered all sail to be set.

Meanwhile the pirate craft was dashing toward the brigantine. The black
flag was already visible, and a cannon ball, whistling close by the
brigantine's rigging, was the first message from the sea-robber.

Captain Rolls had no cannon with which to answer. The silence was
interpreted by the pirates as fear, and one of their number shouted in a
tone of thunder through his speaking trumpet:

"Ship ahoy! A word with the captain."

Instantly a battle-flag fluttered from every mast-head on the
brigantine.

A terrible uproar arose on the pirate ship; a tall man, with a gray
vest, girdled by a scarlet sash, appeared on deck, issuing orders in
loud, hoarse tones, upon which half the sails were furled, and with a
swift turn the light craft came round before the wind close by the
brigantine, without firing a shot, evidently considering her a sure
prey, which must be spared from harm.

On the pirate's prow was carved a strange human figure, the symbol of
the ship's name, The Sea Devil, and, which, the pirates humorously
asserted, was the living image of their Captain Davis, whose face had
been so disfigured by the bursting of a shell that it resembled a
death's head.

The pirates dashed with Satanic recklessness toward the brigantine,
whose defenders still awaited them in motionless silence. But just at
the