There the reason for this ominous activity was apparent. Not a league distant under the lee was a large vessel under full press of canvas, fleeing for her life. ’Twas evident that the _Saucy Sally_ had crept near her during the night; and the laggard Spaniard, unaware of the nationality or dangerous character of his neighbor, had permitted her to come close, until the full light of day had convinced him of his error. That he was making a valiant effort to repair it was evident in the way the vessel was heeling to the wind and the lashing of the amber foam into which she frantically swam in her mad struggle to win clear away. But even Mistress Barbara’s untutored eye could see that the effort was a vain one. For the slipping seas went hurrying past the _Sally’s_ quarter with a rush which sent them speedily astern to mingle with the dancing blue line which marked the meeting of the sky and sea. The intention of the _Sally_ was soon apparent. A crash split Mistress Barbara’s ears and set her quivering with fear. Flight was impossible, and so, in a ferment of terror, yet fascinated, she watched the shot go flying towards the luckless fugitive. It was not until then that the real danger of her situation became apparent. A cloud of white floated away from the Spaniard’s stern. She saw no shot nor heard any sound of its striking, but she knew that monsieur had willfully gone into action, and heedlessly exposed her to the shocks of war. Had he no kindness, no clemency or compassion? Was it, after all, a mistake that she should have given this man her solicitude and confidence? A knock at the door fell almost as loudly upon her ears as the crash of ordnance had done. When a second and sharper knock resounded, she summoned her voice to answer. “Madame, it is I,” came in low tones from without. “If you can find it convenient to open--” At the sound of the voice she gained courage. Monsieur had come to her. Trembling, yet still undismayed, she crept to the door and opened it. The face of the Frenchman was dark and impassive. If the night had brought a new resolution to her, it was plain that monsieur was in no wise different from yesterday. All this she noted while her hand still clung falteringly to the knob of the door. “Madame,” he began, “the matter is most urgent. If it will please you to follow me--” Mistress Barbara with difficulty found her tongue. “Where, monsieur. What--” “Madame, I pray that you will make haste. There is little time to lose. I should be at this moment upon the deck.” “Monsieur would take me--?” “Below the water-line, madame. There will be a fight. Shots may be fired. I would have you in safety.”