Although Bob Shackelford had always been accounted pretty much of a dare devil he really drew the line at throwing his gauntlet into the ring and sending a defiance to two nations--that would probably be a little too strong for his blood. Here was a chance to draw out with honor. Shackelford accepted the olive branch. "Well, Beven, you put the matter pretty strongly, and I am inclined to yield. Give me your solemn pledge that this gentleman boarded us as a lover and not as a spy, and," here he expressed himself very forcibly in the genuine Shackelford style--"I'll draw off and spare you the gore of battle that must come when Greek meets Greek." "I give you that pledge," replied Beven, readily. "Why did he go in disguise then?" was the final query from the other, who had not as yet grasped the full significance of affairs. "Because he had enemies on board yonder boat--you carry Spaniards, and his country is at war with Spain. They want him badly, and he is no fool. Captain, I am under obligations for your courtesy. Come and see me to-morrow and I'll keep my promise." Shackelford smacked his lips. "By Jove! I'll try and oblige you, my boy," he declared, enthusiastically, as he dropped down upon the thwart. The incident was closed. There would be no broken heads, no old time boarding of the craft, no hot time in the harbor _that_ night. Reason had resumed her sway, pushing valor and blind passion into the background. One there was whom disappointment cut to the quick. A figure arose in the boat, a bedraggled figure, with one arm of his evening coat almost divorced from its moorings on account of the vigor shown by the British tars in dragging the owner aboard--a figure that was just the opposite of the usually dandified Jerome, the pink of neatness, the epitome of current style. "What," he ejaculated, "you decline to go aboard and drag the fellow away? I am astonished beyond measure--I did not expect this of you, Captain Bob." "Well, I'm satisfied with the explanation given. If you still object, sir, we'll hold the boat here and let you go aboard and get him. Of course you'd have to shoulder the whole responsibility--" "Pull away," muttered Jerome, suddenly dropping back to his seat and endeavoring to look as small as possible. Roderic guessed the reason. The Adonis had discovered that he was the cynosure of bright eyes from the cabin--all this excitement had not passed without arousing Cleo and Miss Becky--the former had not really retired at all, but awaited her cousin's return from his mission of love--perhaps her earnest prayers had followed him, even to the arms of her successful rival. The blockade runner's boat shot quickly over the darkened water toward the lights that indicated the spot where the steamer was anchored. Thus the coast was again clear. Captain Beven turned and shook Roderic's hand. He was bubbling over with suppressed laughter.