Doña Dominica thought it imperative that Beauvallet's impudence should be suitably punished, and took it upon herself to perform this pious office. Master Dangerfield was a tool ready to her hand; she sought him out, cast a thrall about that susceptible lad, and flirted with him, somewhat to his embarrassment. She brought her long eyelashes into play, the minx, was all honey to him, and flattered the vanity of the youthful male. She used a distant courtesy towards Beauvallet, listened when he spoke to her, folded meek hands in her lap, and turned back to Master Dangerfield at the first chance. Beauvallet had stately curtseys and cool impersonalities from her; she let it be clearly seen that Dangerfield could have if he chose a hand to kiss, her smiles, and her chatter. Master Dangerfield was duly grateful, but showed a lamentable tendency to set her high upon a pedestal. At another time this might have pleased her, but she had now no mind to play the goddess. She was at pains to show Master Dangerfield that he might dare to venture a little further. But all this strategy failed of its object. Doña Dominica, out of the tail of her eye, saw with indignation the frank amusement of Sir Nicholas. Beauvallet stood back and watched the play with a laughing, an appreciative eye. The lady redoubled her efforts. She was forced to admit Dangerfield dull sport, and chid herself for hankering after the livelier company of his General. With him one met the unexpected; there was a spice of risk to savour the game, an element of adventure to whet the appetite. She would come up with Dangerfield on the deck, stand at his side and ask him questions innumerable upon the sailing of a ship, and appear to listen rapt to his conscientious answers. But all the time she had a quick ear and a vigilant eye for Sir Nicholas, and when she heard his ringing voice, or saw him come with his quick light step across the deck she would feel her pulses beat the faster, and dread a rising blush. Nor could she ever withstand the force in him that compelled her to meet his look. She might fight against it, but soon or late she must steal a glance towards him, and find his eyes, brimful of laughter, upon her, his hands lightly laid on his hips, his feet firmly planted and wide apart, mockery in his every line. Since pride forbade her to give him her company she found a certain solace in talking of him to his lieutenant. Master Dangerfield was willing enough, but he was shocked to hear what an ill opinion she had of the hero. He could allow that Sir Nicholas had maybe too boisterous and reckless a way to suit a lady's taste, but when Dominica poured more scorn upon Beauvallet the boy was moved to protest. It was likely that she wanted this. "I marvel that you breed such ruffling bullies in England, señor," she said, nose in air. "A bully?" Dangerfield echoed. "Sir Nicholas? Why, I believe you must not say so aboard this ship, señora." "Oh, I am not afraid!" Dominica declared.