“I thought it was,” said Elizabeth, following closely after.

“Well, it wasn’t,” moaned Lucretia Borgia.  “Calpurnia just looked out of the window and discovered that we were in mid-stream.”

The ladies crowded anxiously about the stair and attempted to ascend, Cleopatra in the van; but as the Egyptian Queen reached the doorway to the upper deck, the door opened, and the hard features of Captain Kidd were thrust roughly through, and his strident voice rang out through the gathering gloom.  “Pipe my eye for a sardine if we haven’t captured a female seminary!” he cried.

[Illustration:  “THE HARD FEATURES OF KIDD WERE THRUST THROUGH”]

And one by one the ladies, in terror, shrank back into the billiard-room, while Kidd, overcome by surprise, slammed the door to, and retreated into the darkness of the forward deck to consult with his followers as to “what next.”

V

A CONFERENCE ON DECK

“Here’s a kettle of fish!” said Kidd, pulling his chin whisker in perplexity as he and his fellow-pirates gathered about the capstan to discuss the situation.  “I’m blessed if in all my experience I ever sailed athwart anything like it afore!  Pirating with a lot of low-down ruffians like you gentlemen is bad enough, but on a craft loaded to the water’s edge with advanced women—­I’ve half a mind to turn back.”

[Illustration:  “‘HERE’S A KETTLE OF FISH,’ SAID KIDD”]

“If you do, you swim—­we’ll not turn back with you,” retorted Abeuchapeta, whom, in honor of his prowess, Kidd had appointed executive officer of the House-boat.  “I have no desire to be mutinous, Captain Kidd, but I have not embarked upon this enterprise for a pleasure sail down the Styx.  I am out for business.  If you had thirty thousand women on board, still should I not turn back.”

“But what shall we do with ’em?” pleaded Kidd.  “Where can we go without attracting attention?  Who’s going to feed ’em?  Who’s going to dress ’em?  Who’s going to keep ’em in bonnets?  You don’t know anything about these creatures, my dear Abeuchapeta; and, by-the-way, can’t we arbitrate that name of yours?  It would be fearful to remember in the excitement of a fight.”

“Call him Ab,” suggested Sir Henry Morgan, with an ill-concealed sneer, for he was deeply jealous of Abeuchapeta’s preferral.

“If you do I’ll call you Morgue, and change your appearance to fit,” retorted Abeuchapeta, angrily.

“By the beards of all my sainted Buccaneers,” began Morgan, springing angrily to his feet, “I’ll have your life!”

“Gentlemen!  Gentlemen—­my noble ruffians!” expostulated Kidd.  “Come, come; this will never do!  I must have no quarrelling among my aides.  This is no time for divisions in our councils.  An entirely unexpected element has entered into our affairs, and it behooveth us to act in concert.  It is no light matter—­”