He stood watching the cutter sending up signals. They might have been colours of danger, hurried flashes of distress. No notice was taken on board the brig--in fact, the crew seemed all too much afraid of what had happened to be willing to stop the _Gypsy_, even had the order to back her topsail been given. A king's cutter hulled, dismasted, placed _hors de combat_ by an English brig which had impudently refused to heave-to to legitimate demands! Who was this Captain Jackman, anyhow? It had got mysteriously whispered about, through God knows what source, that he was a little mad. It may have come from his last ship. It may have been detected in the docks, and coolly noted and made nothing of by the reckless seamen who had agreed to sail with him for fine pay and a good share of the treasure. The wide stretch of river looked melancholy with the black of the night and the dimness of the stars, and the dull gleam of the heads of the running sea. The commander, with folded arms, stood gazing in the direction where the cutter was sunk in the gloom. His mind was distracted. He had counted upon the civility and respect of Captain Jackman; on the contrary, his life had been threatened, and he was now being carried away to sea in spite of his protests. He could endure his reverie no longer, and after looking about him in search of Captain Jackman, and beholding no one aft but the huge figure of Bill Hoey, who was keeping the watch, he went into the cabin. There he found the captain and Ada, late as it was, in earnest conversation. They broke off when he entered, and the captain stood up; but the girl stared at her father with angry looks of impatience. 'We are pleased that you have come below, sir,' said the captain respectfully, indicating a chair, and brandy and other materials, in as many flourishes of his hand. 'We should like a good understanding to exist between us.' 'I am very wishful that that should be,' said the commander, who understood that this lover of good understandings carried loaded pistols in his pockets, and that he had one in his breast then. 'You are on board my brig,' said Captain Jackman, 'without invitation. Do not you think you are guilty of a gross act of rudeness?' The commander pointed, mute with passion, to his daughter. 'You cannot divorce us by being here,' continued Captain Jackman, with a slow white smile and a sarcastic face, and eyes full of dangerous light. 'She is my wife, sir, above and beyond your control absolutely.' 'You will set me ashore with her, nevertheless,' exclaimed Commander Conway. 'Yes, you shall be set ashore certainly, and my wife and I will accompany you. Does that satisfy you, sir?' 'Where is the place?' said the commander, with an angry snuffle of suspicion. 'In Cornwall.' 'It is your home, perhaps.' 'You shall see it,' exclaimed Ada. 'And when you have enjoyed its beauties you will return to the little square house.'