"Dick," said Ralph Ingle as the two brothers were left alone together, "what treatment might a prisoner look for if brought aboard this ship?" "Why, all the difference betwixt a swift death and a slow one." "And if the prisoner were a woman--" "Nay, none of that business, Ralph! I was but jesting when I spoke of carrying off the villagers' wives. Remember, we take our commission from the Roundheads, who do faithfully believe we are bent on promoting the Puritan religion in this part of the world." Here Richard Ingle burst into a roar of laughter, but his brother's eyes flashed. "You know not how to take a gentleman," he said. "Indeed," sneered his brother, "have a few months in the Brent household turned thee into such a white-livered fellow, half prude, half priest? Nay, nay," seeing his brother's sulky looks; "I meant not to vex thee, though 'tis a damned odd time for talking of such matters; but take thy pleasure as thou wilt, only now make ready for the prettiest fight thou hast seen since we met the pirates off Algiers." "The other pirates," corrected Ralph, and began buckling on his cutlass and feeling for his pistols. "Come on, then," called Richard, lowering himself over the ship's side, "come on, men; rally to the cry of 'Ingle!' Never mind giving quarter, and set the torches to every house in St. Mary's. There's plunder enough for us all, and then up sail and away before the burghers know who's struck them." The muffled oars sped silently through the water; silently, too, the keels of the boats slipped over the sand of the beach. With unshod feet, pistols in belts, and cutlass in hand, the men ranged themselves in a ragged line, and before them, Richard Ingle stood in a theatrical attitude, with one hand on his hip, the other waving a sword. "Are you ready for a fight, my men?" "Try us!" "Ready to make a bonfire of yonder town?" A waving torch answered, but was speedily extinguished by Ingle's order. "Ready to open the bung-holes in the tavern barrels?" "Ay, and drink the spirit as it runs." "Then you're the men for Dick Ingle. Claiborne, how many have you in your command?" "Forty." "Take twenty, and climb yonder stairs. There is a gap in the palisade at their head. Put your men through it single file, and in dead silence. There is no guard. "Ralph!" "Ay." "Do you take the other twenty and follow the longer trail leading to the rear of the town. When our approach is known, the rush will be for the river gate. That leaves your gate weak. Beat it down. Once in, I leave you to your work." "Trust me!" "The rest of you follow me. Swift and still. That's your motto till we burst in with a yell, and surprise our friends. The guard is bribed, the gate unbarred. Up and forward!" Forward they went with a rush, Ingle well in front,--up the hilly road at a double quick to the very shadow of the palisade, not a sound giving warning of their approach.