"That is true; and if you should be arrested and taken to Tangier, the Pacha would have it all his own way, and you would certainly be convicted. I doubt if they would even give you the form of a trial. But there is an American consul here, and he could make a good deal of trouble for the Moroccan." "But I have no idea of being taken to Tangier or any other port in Morocco," Scott affirmed in the most resolute manner, shaking his head like a boy who is getting decidedly "mad." "You are not going there voluntarily, you mean," suggested Louis. "Neither voluntarily nor involuntarily!" protested the captain very warmly. "But if you couldn't help yourself, you wouldn't go there voluntarily," said Felix, who was an attentive listener and a close observer of all that transpired. "You had better translate that into ancient Greek so that we can't understand it, Flix," replied Louis. "Oi kin translate it into modern Kilkenny Greek; but Oi have forgotten all the ancient Greek Oi iver knew, and that's sorra one bit," returned Felix. "If ye's can't help yersel', ye's can't prayvint the anti-pork ayters from taking ye's to Tangier. But Oi'll foight for ye's, Scotty darlint, wid me fishts and me revolver." "Thank you, Felix; but I don't believe this is to be a matter of fighting so much as it will be of running away," replied Scott. "Do you expect to run away from the Fatimé, Captain Scott?" "That's the only way out of the scrape as I understand the situation," answered Scott, as he picked up the chart of the Strait, which lay on the miniature capstan upon the forecastle, and began to study it attentively. "Do you expect to beat the Pacha's steamer on a straight run to Gibraltar, Captain Scott?" asked Louis incredulously. "I don't know how fast the Fatimé is; but she was slow enough on the run from Mogadore to Funchal, though perhaps they did not hurry her. I don't believe I shall make a straight course of it to Gib," answered the captain, still studying the chart. Louis had been directed to head the Maud for Point Malabata, and Scott stood by the open window of the pilot-house during the conversation. The little steamer had certainly gained upon the bigger one, which was said to be of about four hundred tons, for she had passed out of a convenient speaking distance of her. When first seen the Fatimé's smoke-stack seemed to be a useless appendage, for nothing issued from it; but as soon as she came about a volume of black smoke had begun to pour out of it, which was continuously increasing. "Do you see the black smoke the Fatimé is sending out of her funnel?" asked Louis of the captain, who still retained his place at the window.