p! The _Venture_ and the
_Vulture_ are one and the same! Here--take my glass," he cried handing
it down. "See the two second letters--they are just a bit aslant.
Weeks ago, at home, I thought it seemed strange that the _E_ and the
_N_ looked loose. But loose they are! Once at sea they're
changed--bolted in, maybe, I don't know how--and there's your merchant
ship at home and pirate ship at sea!"

The men turned, wonderingly but angrily too, for the remembrance of
what Zachary Heigh had tried to do, and so nearly succeeded in,
rankled, and they now began to understand many things. Voices began to
rise dangerously high in the growing ill-feeling.

"Ah--the dirty dog--"

"_And_ his friend with the airs!"

"Have we then been harboring the like of him at home?"

"Aye--to let him go free to scuttle the next fine ship, take all her
cargo, and leave her valiant men to drown!"

The Captain came forward, his hands upraised. "How-now, men, be still!
We are here to see what may take place, but if your voices should
carry, as well they may, over the water, we should have little chance
of it. Do you be still and watchful."

A low cry came from Amos, who had not taken his eyes from the sea.

"Look! Around the point! Here comes another ship--looks like that was
what the ol' blackbird was a-waiting for!"

Sure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its
way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be
heard on the _Vulture_. Looking through his glass, which he lent to
Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the
deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others
walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris
could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked
figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his
master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a
supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as
if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few
inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from
anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile
as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from
its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in
advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be
plainly seen manning the guns that had already been