"To rescue the young lady," corrected Prelice coldly. "If you attempt to clear out with Miss Chent, I'll make it hot for you." "What can you do?" "What I said. I have my revolver. See!" Prelice whipped out his weapon before Brisson could move. "I have you covered. What is to prevent me from shooting you and racing on deck to swim ashore?" The captain did not move a muscle. "You can put the gun down, my lord," said he, with a note of admiration in his voice. "I promise you that I won't steam for the Southern Cross until Madame gives the word." "Madame won't come on board." "Then I wait until she does," retorted Brisson. "Will you put that gun down, or am I to be shot?" "You are more use to me alive than dead," said Prelice, and slipped his derringer behind him, handy for the grip; "but I see the tea is on the table. I'm infernally hungry." Brisson smacked his great thigh, and looked at Prelice with much admiration. "Guess you'll come home on the winner," said he as they sat at table, "and I should just love to see you get the bulge on that son of a sea-cook." "Meaning Jadby?" "Meaning Jadby," assented Brisson gravely. "Have some salt tack." The hungry guest assented very readily, and ate a decent meal of extremely bad sea food. Prelice was not fastidious when in the wilds, and passed over the table like a prairie fire. At the conclusion of the meal Brisson mixed him a tot of rum, and handed along a box of very good cigars, which had never paid duty. Then to pass the time until Jadby arrived, they chatted. Amongst other things, Prelice learned that Brisson had met Sir Oliver Lanwin, and did not like him. The baronet had a bad record in the South Seas. "I was in his service once," growled Brisson, cutting up tobacco with a clasp-knife; "but he gave me the chuck 'cause I wouldn't pile up a schooner, which he'd insured for wrecking. Agstone did it, though." And he filled a dirty little pipe with the rank tobacco. "Humph! You knew Agstone?" Brisson nodded. "He was a fairy-tale pirate, was Agstone," said he. "Lord, I could put in the night yarning about his doings. Murder amongst 'em too." And he spat. "Sir Oliver knew of that, and got the hang of Aggy. No wonder Aggy got square with him." "Do you mean to say that he murdered Sir Oliver?" "You can hold on to that, my lord. Sir Oliver treated Aggy like the old devil treats a holy man. Course I wouldn't swear to Aggy's knifing him in a Court o' Law; but it sounds like Aggy. Wonderfully quick with his sticker, was Aggy." "And who do you think murdered Agstone?" Brisson leered. "You've got me there," he confessed. "I can't lay my hand on the son of a gun that did that." Prelice nodded. Possibly Agstone had turned on his tyrant to send him below; but it was impossible to say who had sent Agstone to join the baronet. "About Madame Marie, now. Is that her real name?" he inquired.