captive I noted that his face paled, and that
there came a look into his eyes which I had not often seen there, but
which meant no good for Jensen and his scum if Lancelot got the top of
them. For Lancelot was a staunch Churchman and a respecter of ministers
of God's Word, and as loyal to his religion as he was to his King.

There was one face which I missed out of those boatloads of blackguards,
a face which I had very confidently expected to find most prominent
amongst them. When I missed it in the first boat I made sure that I
should find it in the second, and probably in the place of command; but
it was not there either, very much to my surprise. At that crisis in our
affairs, at that instant of peril to my life, I was for the moment most
perturbed, or at least most puzzled by the fact that I could not find
this familiar face among the collection of scarlet-coated scoundrels who
were creeping in upon us.

The face that I was looking for was a face that would have gone well
enough too with a scarlet coat, for it was a scarlet face in itself. I
looked for that red-haired face which I had seen for the first time
leering at me over Barbara's shoulders on the last day that ever I set
foot within the Skull and Spectacles. I was looking for the face of
Jensen's partner in treason--Hatchett.

By this time our enemies had come to within perhaps ten boats' lengths
of Fair Island. All this time they had kept silence, and all this while
we had kept silence also. But now, as if Lancelot had made up his mind
exactly at what point he would take it upon him to act, we assumed the
defensive. For Lancelot gave the command to make ready and to present
our pieces, and his words came from his lips as clearly and as
composedly as if he were only directing some drilling on an English
green. In a moment all our muskets were at the shoulder, while Lancelot
called out to the pirates that if they rowed another inch nearer he
would give the order to fire. Our men were steady men, and, though I am
sure that more than one of them was longing to empty his piece into the
boats, all remained as motionless as if on parade.

The pirate boats came to a dead stop, and I could see that all the men
who were not busy with the oars were gripping their guns. But Jensen
kept them down with a gesture. Then, as the boats were steady, he rose
to his feet and waved a white handkerchief in sign that he wished for
parley. It was part of the foppishness of the