“Cowards!” she cried. “Is there not one of you who dares face this man. Come! I offer you a bargain. If any man will save me, to him will I give myself in all wifely humility. Any man! _Any_ man! Speak! What! Does no one speak? Am I so poor a prize?” “I speak!” Absorbed in the scene, no one had noted Howard’s approach, but at the sound of his voice all faced him. His sea-stained clothes were torn, and there was a fleck of blood on his lip, but his glance was high. “I speak,” he repeated. “Not for the prize, but for the honor of womanhood.” He turned to Forbes, who had flushed furiously at his appearance. “Ah! you craven,” he flared. “You thought you had me safe while you worked your coward will. Look better to your shackles next time.” Three or four of the men had risen and were closing in on Howard, but Forbes waved them back. “Since you are here,” he remarked, nonchalantly, “do I understand that you offer as a candidate for the lady’s hand? If not, you have no standing.” “I offer for anything that will save this lady from your insults.” “Ah! So you _do_ offer. That is well. That is in line with the very object of this ceremony and shows the wisdom of our laws. You and I will fight this out and bury all ill-feeling--in your grave. Kindly choose some one as second, and let’s get to work.” Howard looked around him. “I’ll take my companion, Jackson,” he decided. “I suppose you’ve got him locked up somewhere.” “Bring him,” ordered Forbes, calmly. He turned to Howard and began to take off his coat. “Get ready,” he ordered. “You’ll give me fair play?” “Surely. And marry you to the lady--if you win.” In the revulsion of feeling consequent on the appearance of her champion, Dorothy’s limbs had given way, and she would have fallen had not Mother Joyce caught her and helped her to a chair, where she leaned back, white and dazed. When she recovered enough to note what was going on, Howard and Forbes, stripped to the waist, stood facing each other before her, the latter towering, giant-like, above his smaller adversary. With a cry she sought to struggle up, but Mother Joyce restrained her. “Don’t interfere,” she whispered. “It’s your only chance.” “But he’ll kill him.” The older woman seemed to have no difficulty in assigning the confused pronouns correctly. “I’m not so sure,” she muttered consolingly. “I fancy the captain has his work cut out for him. Anyhow, it’s for you to kape still.” Jackson’s eyes had lighted up when he had reached Howard’s side and understood what game was on. “It’s many a fight I had in the ring myself before I went on the force,” he whispered, with something very nearly approaching enthusiasm. “It’s a big fellow he is. Can you do him?” Howard smiled grimly. “I’ve got to,” he answered.