learned that she heard all that we said by the wall there. While we
talked, she was busy reloading her pistol, waiting. At the door of the
court we paused to pull out her knife from where it stuck. It was a not
very large dagger-knife, with a small woman's grip, inlaid with silver,
but bound at the guard with gold clasps. The end of the handle was also
bound with gold. The edge of the broad, cutting blade curved to a long
sharp point. The back was straight. On the blade was an inscription in
Spanish, "Veneer o Morir" ("To conquer or die"), with the maker's name,
Luis Socartes, Toledo, surrounded by a little twirligig. I have it in
my hand as I write. I value it more than anything in my possession. It
serves to remind me of a very remarkable woman.

"There, Martin," said Mr. Jermyn. "There's a curiosity for you. Get one
of the seamen to make a sheath for it. Then you can wear it at your back
on your belt like a sailor."

As we walked back to the ship, I told Mr. Jermyn all that I had seen of
the morning's adventure. He said that the whole, as far as he could make
it out, had been a carefully laid plot of some of James the Second's
spies. He treated me as an equal now. He seemed to think that I had
saved the Duke from a very dreadful danger. The horsey man, he said, was
evidently a trusted secret agent, who must have made friends with the
carpenter on some earlier visit of the schooner. He had planned his raid
on the Duke's papers very cleverly. He had arrived on board when no one
was about. He had bribed the carpenter (so we conjectured, piecing the
evidence together) to shout fire, when we were busy at breakfast. Then,
when all was ready, this woman, whoever she was, had gone forward to
the bo'sun's locker, where she had set fire to half a dozen of those
fumigating chemical candles which she had brought in her box. The
candles at once sputtered out immense volumes of evil smelling smoke.
The carpenter, watching his time, raised the alarm of fire, while the
horsey man, hidden below, waited till all were on deck to force the
spring-locks on the Duke's cabin-door. When once he had got inside the
cabin, he had worked with feverish speed, emptying all the drawers,
ripping up the mattress, even upsetting the books from the bookshelf,
all in about two minutes. Luckily the Duke kept nearly all his secret
papers about his person. The pocket-book was the only important
exception. This, a very secret list of all the Western gentr