The following morning, the party had just finished breakfast, and were clustered about in front of the house, when Captain Jamison came hurriedly up the avenue. Old Marbury, with his foot in the stirrup, had paused for a moment's conversation with Mr. Plater and Parkington, and he regarded the approaching skipper with some surprise. "What does this mean, Jamison?" he asked, "I thought you would be well on the way to Annapolis, by this time." "So did I, sir," was the answer. "Such were your orders--but you can't never tell what will happen. The truth is, sir, Long-Sword has escaped!" "Escaped! How?--when?" Marbury demanded. The skipper was plainly much embarrassed--he twirled his cap between his fingers, shuffled his feet, and his glance wandered skyward. "I don't know, sir--it was sometime between dark and daylight. He was in the cabin, tight enough, with the irons fast on him, when night fell--he was gone, this morning." "With the irons fast to him?" "No, sir, with the irons off him, sir, lying on his bunk--and as securely locked as when they were on him. How did he get out of them, sir, how did he get out of them?" Marbury shook his head. "If you cannot tell, I am sure I cannot." "Possibly he found the key you lost," observed Parkington. "I did not lose it in his cabin, sir," said Jamison; "it was found at the foot of the companionway. I picked it up there, myself." Parkington nodded. It was clever of Brandon to lock the irons and leave the key where it likely would be found. "Then he must be small-boned and small-jointed. I have heard of men who could slip the irons in that way," remarked Plater. "I think not--they seemed to fit him very close--in fact, he complained of them pinching him." "Like enough!" laughed Plater. "Another proof that they were loose." "Where was the guard--asleep?" asked Marbury. "No, not asleep--dead! dead! with his own knife buried in his breast." "When did you discover that Long-Sword was missing?" "A little after day-break. I sent every man ashore on the search. I did not come here, until it was proved he had escaped." "How did he get ashore?" "Swam for it." "Hum! pretty fair for a broken collar-bone!" Marbury remarked. "He is a dangerous man, sir." "Naturally--otherwise he would not be a pirate chief." "He must be taken!" protested the skipper. "We must catch him!" "Yes--we, or some one else, must catch him--and, as he seems to have got away from the vicinity, it will probably be some one else," Parkington observed. "So you likely will not retire on your reward, Jamison," Marbury observed; "another will get the thousand guineas.... Why did you not notify us, at once?" "Because, I hoped to catch him, sir." "And not be obliged to tell me he had escaped--I see." "It is only human nature," said Parkington. "Let me intercede for Jamison."