"A challenge?" inquired Beauvallet. "Oh, rash! I told you that I never refused a challenge." He bore down upon her, and dodged, laughing, the dagger's point. He caught her wrist, and had his other arm firmly clipped about her waist. "Cry peace, sweetheart," he said, and took the dagger from her, and restored it to its sheath. "Come!" he said, tossed her up in his arms, and strode off with her to the quarterdeck. Dominica forbore resistance. It would be useless, she knew, and her dignity would suffer. She permitted herself to be carried off, and liked the manner of it. They did not use such ready methods in Spain. There was great strength in the arm that upheld her, and the very carelessness of the man intrigued one. A strange, mad fellow, with an odd directness. One would know more of him. She was carried down the companion into the waist, where the men were busy with the treasure--China silks, and linen-cloths, ingots of gold, bars of silver, and spices from the islands. "Robber!" said Dominica softly. He chuckled. It was annoying. To the bulwarks he went, and she wondered how he would manage now. But he did it easily enough, with a hand on the shrouds, and a leap up. He stood poised a moment. "Welcome aboard the _Venture_, sweetheart!" he said audaciously, and climbed down with her safe tucked in his arm to his own poop-deck below. She was set on her feet, ruffled and speechless, and saw her father being helped carefully down the side of the tall galleon. Don Manuel appeared to be both bewildered and amused. "See them well bestowed, Diccon," Beauvallet bade the fair youth, and went back the way he had come. "Will it please you to come below, señora?" Dangerfield said shyly, and bowed to them both. "Your chests will be here anon." Don Manuel smiled a little wryly. "I think the man is either mad--or else--an odd, whimsical fellow, my daughter," he remarked. "We shall doubtless learn which in time." CHAPTER II Doña Dominica was escorted below decks, and led to a fair cabin which she guessed to be the home of Master Dangerfield, hurriedly evicted. She was left there alone, while Master Dangerfield took her father on to yet another cabin. She took stock of her surroundings, and was pleased to approve. There were mellow walls, oak-panelled, a cushioned seat under the porthole, a table with carved legs, a joint-stool, a fine Flanders chest, a cupboard against the bulkhead, and the bunk. There was presently a discreet scratching on the door. She bade enter, and a small man with an inquisitive nose and very bravely curling mustachios insinuated his head into the room. Doña Dominica regarded him in silence. A pair of shrewd grey eyes smiled deprecatingly. "Permit that I bring your chests, señora," said the newcomer in perfect Spanish. "Also your ladyship's woman." "Maria!" called out Dominica joyfully.