They would follow the marauders and rescue the victims--that he took as settled. The settlement could hardly be a mild one, and he would fain have spared the women the sight of it; but there was nothing else for it--they could not possibly be left behind. The raiders had doubtless filled their holds here to the last man. But there must be many left. They would be in hiding yet, but presently they would come out of their retreats, full of grief and anger, and it would go hard with the first white faces they encountered. The women must go with them--that was one of his troubles. And the next, supposing they caught these blood-thirsty and body-hungry rascals--and catch them they would, if it took a month's circling round--what were they to do with them when they had them? There would probably be fighting, though the results did not trouble him. What he wanted was to put an end once and for all to this horrible traffic. The only way that suggested itself as adequate and final was to string them up to the yard-arm, every man-jago of them, and whether that might be done with impunity was more than doubtful. The only impunity he desired was for his future work. Morally, he would feel justified. And whether or no, the spirit that was in him would have borne lightly the burden of such a deed, even though its outward results to himself were personally painful and disastrous. It took no more than two minutes after they had scrambled on board to set things in motion. "We are too late," said Blair to the anxious waiters. "We follow at once, captain. They will have filled up here, and will make straight for home. Lay her straight for the Chincha Islands, please, and make all speed possible." Captain Cathie had foreseen the possibility. He set their course due east for the present, and spread his wings again to the last stitch, and they swept away past the other islands, with no more than fleeting glimpses of them in the mellow distance. Then Blair begged them to confer with him in the saloon, and laid his difficulties before them. "I take it for granted we shall catch them," he said. "Certainly," said the captain. "I am distressed at thought of bringing you ladies into contact with bloodshed and violence. But there is no help for it; it would not be safe to leave you behind." "Certainly not," said Aunt Jannet Harvey emphatically. "We would not have been left in any case," said Jean. "Our places are by your sides," and the others quietly endorsed her. "The next thing is this: we shall catch this ship, we shall rescue these islanders, by force if necessary. What are we to do with the crew and the ship?" "Hang them and scuttle her," said Captain Cathie, with decision. "That is one's natural first feeling, and possibly it would be the wisest thing in the end. And yet----" "It is a question if we are justified in going that length," said Charles Evans gravely. Stuart, too, shook his head doubtfully.