“I believe it is.”

“And you will not lose faith in me?” she questioned earnestly.  “It will not lower your belief in my womanhood?”

“Nothing could do that.  Mistress Dorothy, I want you to realize the depth of my interest and respect.  Your friendliness has meant much to me, and I would never urge you to lower your ideals.  But we must face this situation as it is.  You cannot cling now to the standards of London, or even Maryland.  We are on the ocean, upon a pirate ship, surrounded by men utterly devoid of all restraint—­hell-hounds of the sea, who live by murder and pillage.  We possess but two weapons of defense—­deceit, or force.  A resort to the latter is at present impossible.  I cannot conceive that you are lowering yourself in any way by using the power you possess to escape violence—­”

“The power I possess?”

“Yes—­beauty and wit.  These are your weapons, and most effective ones.  You can play with Estada and defeat him—­temporarily at least.  I confess there is danger in such a game—­he is a wild beast, and his evil nature may overcome his discretion.  You are armed?”

“No; I have never felt the need.”

“Then take this,” and I thrust a pistol into her hands.  “I took it from the rack in the cabin, and can get another.  It is charged; keep it hidden about your person, but use it only when all else fails.  Do you see this necessity now from my standpoint?”

“Yes,” hesitatingly, “all that you say is true, but—­but the thought frightens me; it—­it is like creeping into a lion’s cage having only a fan with which to defend myself.”

I smiled at her conceit.

“A fan rightly used is no insignificant weapon.  In the hands of a woman it has won many a victory.  I have faith in your wielding it to the best effect—­the lasting discomfiture of Senor Estada.”

“You laugh,” indignantly, “believing me a coquette—­a girl to play with men?”

“No; that misconstrues my thought.  I believe you a true woman, yet possessing the natural instincts of your sex, and able to use your weapons efficiently.  There is no evil in that, no reproach.  I would not have you otherwise, and we must not misunderstand each other.  You retain faith in me?”

“Implicitly.”

“And pledge yourself to your part, leaving me to attend to mine?”

Her two hands clasped my fingers, her eyes uplifted.

“Geoffry Carlyle, I have always believed in you, and now, after the sacrifice you have made to serve me, I can refuse you nothing you ask.  I will endeavor to accomplish all you require of me.  God knows how I hate the task; but—­but I will do my best.  Only—­only,” her voice sank, “if—­if the monster cannot be held, I will kill him.”

“I hope you do.”

“I shall!  If the beast lays hands on me he—­he pays the price.  I could not do otherwise.  Geoffry Carlyle—­I am a Fairfax.”

Satisfied with my mission, and confident nothing more need be said, I arose to my feet.