At sight of the old man’s lean, uniformed figure, rising from among the rest, there was visible excitement and surprise aboard the launch. The officer saluted and ordered the engine stopped that he might hear more plainly. “Lieutenant,” repeated the Governor, “I am summoned aboard His Highness the Grand Duke Vladimir’s yacht. You will proceed to the harbor and await my return to the rock. There has been a mutiny among the garrison, but I have quelled it.” The officer saluted again, gave an order, and the launch’s nose pointed for the rock. “Governor,” observed Lamont, as the old man sank again into his seat, “you’ve earned your passage to Stockholm. You need not work for it.” CHAPTER XXI --THE ELOPEMENT THE girls on the yacht had no expectation that Captain Kempt would come back with the two young men. But when, through their powerful binoculars, the girls became aware that Drummond and the Prince were in the small boat, they both fled to the chief saloon, and sat there holding one another’s hands. Even the exuberant Kate for once had nothing to say. She heard the voice of her father on deck, giving command to the mate. “Make for Stockholm, Johnson. Take my men-o’-war’s men--see that no one else touches the ammunition--and fling the shells overboard. Heave the gun after them, and then clear out the rifles and ammunition the same way. When we reach Stockholm to-morrow morning, there must not be a gun on board this ship, and the ridiculous rumor that got abroad among your men that we were going to attack something or other, you will see is entirely unfounded. You impress that on them, Johnson.” “Oh, Dorothy,” whispered Katherine, drawing a deep breath. “If you are as frightened as I am, get behind me.” “I think I will,” answered Dorothy, and each squeezed the other’s hand. “I tell you what it is, Captain,” sounded the confident voice of the Prince. “This vessel is a beauty. You have done yourself fine. I had no idea you were such a sybarite. Why, I’ve been aboard the Czar’s yacht, and I tell you it’s nothing--Great heavens! Katherine!” he shouted, in a voice that made the ceiling ring. She was now standing up and advanced toward him with both hands held out, a welcoming smile on her pretty lips, but he swooped down on her, flung his arms round her like a cabman beating warmth into his hands, kissed her on the brow, the two cheeks and the lips, swaying her back and forward as if about to fling her upstairs. “Stop, stop,” she cried. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Before my father, too! You great Russian bear!” and, breathless, she put her open palm against his face, and shoved his head away from her. “Don’t bother about me, Kate,” said her father. “That’s nothing to the way we acted when I was young. Come on, boys, to the smoking-room, and I’ll mix you something good: real Kentucky, twenty-seven years in barrel, and I’ve got all the other materials for a Manhattan.”