--------------------------------------------------------------------- [Illustration: A strange encounter. The old _Pinmore_, on which "Phelax Leudige" had served, appears on the horizon. The modern buccaneer sends his old ship to her last port.] --------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------- [Illustration: The latter day corsair in a poetic setting.] --------------------------------------------------------------------- It was funny. Finally, I had to laugh. The ship was the _Lundy Island_ bound for France with a cargo of Madagascar sugar. An important cargo, sure enough. Sugar was scarce in all the countries at war, and we Germans, whose supply of sugar consisted mostly of a great longing for it, could sympathize with the captain's eagerness to get his precious merchandise to port. When the first shot struck the _Lundy Island_, the crew, black, brown, and yellow, fell into a panic. With shells falling, running the ship or staying with it meant nothing to them. The captain roared and stormed, but that was all the good it did. So he seized the helm, himself. Just then a shot hit the rudder chain, and when he turned the wheel nothing happened. The crew started taking to the boats, and the tough old salt was left alone on deck. Our signal for him to come on board left him helpless. His boats were out there with the crew floundering at the oars. The sea was pitching and rolling, and they were so frightened they could hardly row. He paced the bridge with his handbag in his hand, a solitary, woebegone figure. We finally had to send a boat for him. On our deck he got a stern, formal reception. "Any casualties among your men, Captain?" "No, worse luck. Not a man scratched, by Joe, and the blighters scurried around like rabbits at a dog show. Look at them in the boats out there. They haven't got here yet, the beggars. Let me at that gun, by Joe, and I'll sink them." It was hard not to sympathize with him, but still his conduct had apparently been inexcusable. "Why did you endanger your men's lives like that, Captain? It not only was the height of folly, but it was inhuman!" Just then our ship's surgeon, Dr. Pietsch, came along. "Hello, Captain." "Hello, Doctor." They greeted each other like long-lost friends, save that there was a shadow of uneasiness in the captain's fraternal demonstrations.