"Get to your duty," commanded the little atomy in his quavering treble. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for handling a lady so. A little more velvet glove, and not quite so much iron hand till it's wanted, on this ship, if you please, my son." Catching the wicked wink at the tail of his chief's eye, the mate sheered off in seeming self-abasement, and left the involuntary "stewardess" face to face with Brant. Somehow the courage which had stood her in good stead with the sturdy "Bully" failed her when confronted by this five-foot skeleton who looked as if he had been buried and dug up again. Her firm mouth quivered a little, and there was a suspicion of moisture in the sullen, wrathful eyes. "Now that you've had your lark perhaps you'll turn your beastly ship round again and put me ashore," she strove to speak bravely. "I shall be fined as it is, for not being back on time." Brant wheezed and cackled. "You've done with fines, my dear," he said, running an approving glance over the imposing female figure in the shabby black dress. "I'm going to be a father to you and make your fortune. Fact is there's a lady passenger coming aboard presently who'll want different company from us rough sailor-men, and I was bound to find it for her. The moment you stepped out of that cab I spotted you for the job, and there's not a bit of use in making a fuss. It'll be a gold mine for you before you've done with it. You'll never need to stand behind a counter again and be cheeked by rude old women--no, not in your natural." The tall draper's assistant measured the captain with a calculating eye, and saw that in him that was not to be reckoned in inches. She was already mastering her indignation at the outrage. "You don't mean to put me ashore?" she said firmly. "I'm d----d if I do," was Brant's energetic rejoinder. She appeared to reflect. "If there's really money in it I don't so much mind," she said at length. "But if you want a quiet time you'll have to meet me on one thing. You must run into Plymouth on your way down Channel and give me a chance to let my young man know where I am. He's in the Navy--a petty officer on the destroyer _Snipe_." Captain Brant rubbed his chin as if weighing the feasibility of the proposition. "Well," he said, "it won't be at all convenient, but I'll stretch a point to oblige you. You don't want to see the gentleman?" "No, so long as I can send word to him, or get a letter posted, it will be all right." "Then I'll do that much for the sake of a quiet life." "You'll have to, or there'll be trouble," replied the matter-of-fact young amazon, little guessing that the villainous skipper had not the slightest intention of fulfilling his promise. A naval port, bristling with warships, was the very last place the _Cobra_ would be likely to visit after her contemplated doings at Ottermouth that night.