"I hardly think that will be necessary. I 'll go through our friend's pockets for his keys." I turned him over, and began the search. "Ah, a revolver; I thought probable--in protection against a woman, you cur.

Here are keys; now let's see what they fit."

The third one tried unlocked the door, but even as I tried them in the lock, my mind swiftly reviewed the situation in which this affair left us, and leaped forward toward a possible solution. It must be open war from now on. No pretense on my part would ever again win me the confidence of the man I had fought and conquered. Henceforward, we could expect no mercy on board. Yet how was it possible to escape, or avoid discovery? To attempt leaving the _Sea Gull_ before dark would be suicidal; no boat could be lowered unseen, and even if one reached the surface of the water, we would surely be overtaken, and brought back.

Yet there was a chance that what had occurred in this cabin could be kept concealed for a few hours, until darkness gave us better opportunity for successful action. The memory of what Henley had said to me the evening before--that he was only technically in command; that for days at a time he never appeared on deck in person, gave me the clew. If he could be kept absolutely secure in his cabin, unable to create any alarm, we would be free to plan our escape. There were but two points of danger to be guarded against--Herman and the steward. The former, when he returned from sh.o.r.e, might seek him for final orders, and the latter, if he failed to appear in the cabin for the regular meal, would endeavor to learn his desires. I would have to guard against these contingencies, and, with the first in mind, I stepped across to the bathroom, and was gratified to learn that the door leading into the mate's stateroom could be locked on the inside. With this private approach barred I felt confident of being able to guard the single entrance remaining. I met her waiting for me as I stepped out from behind the curtain.

"Well, what can we do?"

"Keep the fellow tied, and wait for night," I answered soberly. "That is our only chance. The mate is ash.o.r.e--we are lying in the cove of a small island off the Florida coast, waiting for darkness, and a chance to slip through into southern waters."

"Do you know where this boat is bound?"

"Yes--Spanish Honduras; we are loaded with munitions of war," I laughed.

"I was to be a general down there."

"You!"

"Yes; swift promotion, was n't it! Our friend yonder promised the job; all I had to do was to desert you, and join his outfit."

"And you consented?"

"With a mental reservation. It gained me a few hours' freedom at least, and surely has done you no harm. Did you doubt me?"

"Oh, I hardly know. I was so miserable locked up alone, unable to even learn where we were going, that I lost faith in everyone. You acted so strange."

"I had to play my part. But you received my note?"

"Yes, and it helped me wonderfully, although even then I scarcely comprehended why all this pretense was necessary. Surely you do not believe this man is Philip Henley? that--that I have told you a lie?"

"No, I do not," I answered earnestly. "It is my absolute confidence in you which has held me steadfast. He has shown me evidence of his ident.i.ty which would have convinced me under other circ.u.mstances--letters and pictures; I will show them to you, for I know where they are kept in the desk--but in opposition I had your word, and I believed in that. No evidence would shake my faith in you, and I am certain now there is fraud here--some devilish plot concocted to steal Judge Henley's fortune."

"What letters? What pictures were they?"

"Letters from the Judge to his son--intimate, family letters, and a photograph of the father and this man taken together."

"And were the letters addressed to Philip?"

"The envelopes had been destroyed, and no name was mentioned, but the photograph was endorsed in the Judge's handwriting."

She sank down on a locker, and hid her face in her hands. The pitiful dejection in her att.i.tude compelled me to bend over her in quick sympathy.

"Please do not take it like that," I urged. "We shall find a way of escape if we keep our courage, and work together."

"Oh, it is not that," and she looked up into my face. "I am not afraid.

Only I cannot bear the thought that you doubt me ever so little. I know I have been indiscreet, that you might justly deem me an adventuress.

But I am not, Gordon Craig; I am a good woman left to fight alone, and I must have your faith, or break down utterly."

"Why do you suppose you have not?" I asked, grasping her hands in complete forgetfulness. "We are together now in open fight against these villains. There is no longer any purpose in acting a lie."

"It was a lie?"

"A bare-faced one. Never for an instant did I intend deserting you, or becoming that man's tool."

"And you believe me--all I have told you; that I am really the wife of Philip Henley?"

"Yes," I answered through clinched teeth, struggling to control myself.

For a moment she sat in silence, and, while I dare not look at her, I knew her eyes were upon my face.

"Then I will do whatever you say, go wherever you tell me," she promised gravely. "I cannot decide for myself. I am too confused to think clearly, but I trust you as a friend."

"Is--is that all?" I stammered, unable to restrain the words.

"All! What do you mean? is that not enough?" in surprise.

My eyes met hers, and I cursed myself for a fool.

"Yes--I--I meant nothing," I managed to explain lamely. "That was a slip of the tongue. Please forget it, and keep faith in me."

I drew aside the curtain draping one of the after ports, and glanced out, eager for anything to distract attention. Through the clear gla.s.s I could see the curve of sh.o.r.e-line forming the little cove. Just within the foam of the breakers a half dozen men were launching a small boat. I stared at them an instant, before realizing what it meant. Then I dropped the curtain.

"The mate is coming aboard," I said swiftly. "You must go to your room; here is the key; lock yourself in, and only open when you hear my voice."

"And you--?"

"I must take care of myself; don't worry about me."

She hesitated, yet the expression of my face decided her, and she held out her hand.

"I--I said I would do whatever you told me to, and here I am questioning the first thing. Forgive me."

Without so much as a glance at our prisoner, she opened the door, and, with a swift look about the outer cabin, disappeared.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE CREOLE'S STORY

My time of preparation was brief, yet I already had a plan of operation outlined. In truth, there was small choice left me. I must keep Henley concealed and silent until darkness rendered our escape possible. In order to accomplish this it would be necessary to prevent either the steward or the mate from entering the after cabin. All peril from the negro I dismissed quickly, confident that his knowledge of my standing on board would impel him to accept any explanation I might make. But with Herman the situation was not so clear. Whether, or not, the Captain had informed him that I was a volunteer on their lawless expedition, I did not know. We had not met since coming aboard, and, unless he had received direct orders regarding my status, any interference on my part would be apt to arouse instant suspicion.

Nor was he the kind to brook any a.s.sumed authority. I had him placed as a gruff, hard-fisted sea-dog, who would strike first, and investigate later--one in dealing with whom either diplomacy or force might prove equal failures. Yet I possessed this advantage--I could deal with him alone. With but two watch officers on board, only one at a time could leave the deck, and Broussard, I felt a.s.sured, had no privileges in the Captain's cabin. From what I knew of Henley I doubted if even the first officer felt privileged to invade the privacy of his chief without some special reason. There was discipline on board, strict discipline; there had to be to control such a crew, and it was my impression Henley was the very kind to insist on every privilege of his station. Herman was of value merely for his ability as navigator; socially, the Captain and he had nothing in common. It was on this theory I decided to work.

As I lifted the helpless Captain into his berth, his eyes glaring at me in impotent rage, my ears could distinguish the sound of oars as the small boat rounded the stern of the _Sea Gull_. Much as I despised the fellow, I hated to gag him, yet our safety depended on his silence, and I dare not neglect the precaution. Even as the boat grated along the side, I stepped forth into the main cabin, and sat down to wait. To my surprise and relief, it was Broussard who came down the companion stairs, driving the steward before him.

"Vat for you loaf, hey!" he snapped fiercely. "By Gar, I teach you. I work four--seek--hour an' nodding to eat. You say ze Capitaine send you; bah! eet vas not so--nevaire! Vat you hav'--hey?"

The negro mumbled something through thick lips, and the irate mate gripped him by the collar of his jacket, shaking the fellow as he might a dog, and hurling him half across the deck.

"Sacre! I keel you for five cent. Queek now--jump! Put all on right way, by Gar, or I show you. Here you--ze brandy furst."