fellow that the
handkerchief was edged with lace, like a woman's or a grandee's.

Lancelot called out to him to know what he wanted. Jensen shouted back
that he wished to parley with us. Lancelot promptly made answer that he
needed no parley, that he knew him and his crew for traitors, murderers,
and pirates, with whom he would have no dealings save by arms.

At those bold words of his we could see that the fellows in the scarlet
coats were furious, and we could guess from their gestures that many of
them were urging Jensen to attack us at once, thinking, no doubt, that
they might return our fire and, being able to effect a landing before we
could reload, might cut us to pieces.

But, whatever their purposes were, Jensen restrained them, and it was a
marvel to see the ease with which he ruled those savages. He again
addressed himself to Lancelot, warning him that it would be for his
peace and the peace of those who were with him to come to some
understanding with the invaders. And at last, having spoken some time
without shaking Lancelot's resolve, Jensen asked if he would at least
receive an envoy upon the island.

Lancelot was about to refuse again when something crossed his mind, and
he shouted back to Jensen to know whom he would send. Jensen, who had
probably divined his thoughts, clapped his hand upon the shoulder of
that prisoner of his who sat by his side all in black, and called out to
Lancelot that he proposed to send the parson as his envoy. To this
Lancelot agreed, but I saw that he looked anxious, for it crossed his
mind, as he afterwards told me, that this proposition might merely serve
as an excuse for the pirate boats to come close, and so give them a
better chance of attacking us. However, the pirates made no such
attempt. It may be that Jensen, who was quick of wit, guessed Lancelot's
thought. The boats remained where they were. We saw the reverend
gentleman stand up. One of Jensen's fellows untied his hands, and then
without more ado Jensen caught the poor man up by his waistband and
straightway flung him into the sea.

A cry of anger broke from Lancelot's lips when he saw this, for he
feared that the man might drown. But he was a fair swimmer, and the
distance was not so great, so within a few seconds of his plunge he
found his depth and came wading towards us with the water up to his
middle, looking as wretched as a wet rat, while all the rogues in the
boats laughed loud and long at the figure