“_Almighty ’n’ everlastin’ God, who’s given unto us, Thy servants, grace by the c’nfession of a true faith t’ acknowledge th’ glory of th’ Eternal Trinity, and—and——_” “_And in the power of the Divine Majesty——_” prompted the Vicar ostentatiously. “_Will_ you keep still, Miss? _Majesty to worship the Unity, we beseech Thee that Thou wouldst keep ’s—keep ’s steadfast, er, wouldst keep ’s steadfast——_” [Illustration: “’_Almighty ’n everlastin’ God._’”] The Lieutenant paused helplessly. “_In this faith_,” added the Vicar with triumph, dashing on with almost unintelligible rapidity, “_and evermore defend ’s from all ’dversities, who livest ’n’ reignest one God, world ’thout end. Amen!_” She took a necessary breath, and pushed back her mask still further from her tumbled bang. The Head Captain was visibly impressed. It had never occurred to him to say a collect. The Lieutenant was not such a poor stick, after all. Gravely he led the way down-stairs and climbed abstractedly through the little window. Something was evidently on his mind. “The last time I saw that pirate,” he began. The Lieutenant tripped, and sat down abruptly. “The—the last time you saw him?” he stammered. “That’s what I said,” responded the Head Captain shortly. “The last time I saw him I didn’t s’pose I’d have to bury him. He’d just got a lot of treasure and stuff and—_Sst! Sst!_ For your lives!” They scuttled off desperately. The ground was new to them, and had it not been for providential garbage barrels and outhouses, they could hardly have hoped to conceal themselves from the man who was raking up the yard. To avoid him they dashed straight through his barn, and rounded a summer-house without perceiving a small tea-party going on there, till they ran through it, to their own sick terror, and the abject amazement of the tea-party. They tore through a hedge, panted a doubtful moment in a woodhouse, then took up their headlong flight with the vague, straining pace of crowded dreams. On, on, on. Slip behind that lilac clump—wait! _Sst! Sst!_ Then get along! Oh, hurry, hurry! Pick up your sash! Whose _is_ this yard? Never mind! hurry! [Illustration: “_Then took up their headlong flight._”] They dropped exhausted under their own pear tree. “My, but that was a close shave! I thought they’d got us sure!” breathed the Head Captain. “Wh-who were they?” asked the Lieutenant, round-eyed. “Who were they? Who were they?” the Head Captain repeated scornfully. “The idea! I guess you’d find out who they were if they caught you once!” The Lieutenant shot a sly glance at the Vicar. Did she know? You never could tell, she pretended so. She shivered at the Head Captain’s implication. “Yes, sirree, I guess you’d find out then,” she assured him. Suddenly the Head Captain’s face fell. “The treasure!” he gasped. “It’s gone!”