“He was not informed of it,” said Kidd, archly. “I am not acquainted with Bassanio, my lady, but I overheard Sir Walter enjoining upon the others the absolute necessity of keeping the whole affair from Bassanio, because he was afraid he would not consent to it. ‘Bassanio has a most beautiful wife, gentlemen,’ said Sir Walter, ‘and he wouldn’t think of parting with her under any circumstances; therefore let us keep our intentions a secret from him.’ I did not hear whom the gentleman married, madame; but the others, Prince Hamlet, the Duke of Buckingham, and Louis the Fourteenth, all agreed that Mrs. Bassanio was too beautiful a person to be separated from, and that it was better, therefore, to keep Bassanio in the dark as to their little enterprise until it was too late for him to interfere.” A pink glow of pleasure suffused the lovely countenance of the cross-examiner, and it did not require a very sharp eye to see that the wily Kidd had completely won her over to his side. On the other hand, Elizabeth’s brow became as corrugated as her ruff, and the spirit of the pirate shivered to the core as he turned and gazed upon that glowering face. “Sir Walter agreed to that, did he?” snapped Elizabeth. “And yet he was willing to part with—ah—his sister.” “Well, your Majesty,” began Kidd, hesitatingly, “you see it was this way: Sir Walter—er—did say that, but—ah—he—ah—but he added that he of course merely judged—er—this man Bassanio’s feelings by his own in parting from his sister—” “Did he say sister?” cried Elizabeth. “Well—no—not in those words,” shuffled Kidd, perceiving quickly wherein his error lay, “but—ah—I jumped at the conclusion, seeing his intense enthusiasm for the lady’s beauty and—er—intellectual qualities, that he referred to you, and it is from yourself that I have gained my knowledge as to the fraternal, not to say sororal, relationship that exists between you.” “That man’s a diplomat from Diplomaville!” muttered Sir Henry Morgan, who, with Abeuchapeta and Conrad, was listening at the port without. “He is that,” said Abeuchapeta, “but he can’t last much longer. He’s perspiring like a pitcher of ice-water on a hot day, and a spirit of his size and volatile nature can’t stand much of that without evaporating. If you will observe him closely you will see that his left arm already has vanished into thin air.” “By Jove!” whispered Conrad, “that’s a fact! If they don’t let up on him he’ll vanish. He’s getting excessively tenuous about the top of his head.”