Miss Arabella Bishop was aroused very early on the following morning by the brazen voice of a bugle and the insistent clanging of a bell in the ship’s belfry.  As she lay awake, idly watching the rippled green water that appeared to be streaming past the heavily glazed porthole, she became gradually aware of the sounds of swift, laboured bustle — the clatter of many feet, the shouts of hoarse voices, and the persistent trundlings of heavy bodies in the ward-room immediately below the deck of the cabin.  Conceiving these sounds to portend a more than normal activity, she sat up, pervaded by a vague alarm, and roused her still slumbering woman.

In his cabin on the starboard side Lord Julian, disturbed by the same sounds, was already astir and hurriedly dressing.  When presently he emerged under the break of the poop, he found himself staring up into a mountain of canvas.  Every foot of sail that she could carry had been crowded to the Arabella’s yards, to catch the morning breeze.  Ahead and on either side stretched the limitless expanse of ocean, sparkling golden in the sun, as yet no more than a half-disc of flame upon the horizon straight ahead.

About him in the waist, where all last night had been so peaceful, there was a frenziedly active bustle of some threescore men.  By the rail, immediately above and behind Lord Julian, stood Captain Blood in altercation with a one-eyed giant, whose head was swathed in a red cotton kerchief, whose blue shirt hung open at the waist.  As his lordship, moving forward, revealed himself, their voices ceased, and Blood turned to greet him.

“Good-morning to you,” he said, and added “I’ve blundered badly, so I have.  I should have known better than to come so close to Jamaica by night.  But I was in haste to land you.  Come up here.  I have something to show you.”

Wondering, Lord Julian mounted the companion as he was bidden.  Standing beside Captain Blood, he looked astern, following the indication of the Captain’s hand, and cried out in his amazement.  There, not more than three miles away, was land — an uneven wall of vivid green that filled the western horizon.  And a couple of miles this side of it, bearing after them, came speeding three great white ships.

“They fly no colours, but they’re part of the Jamaica fleet.”  Blood spoke without excitement, almost with a certain listlessness.  “When dawn broke we found ourselves running to meet them.  We went about, and it’s been a race ever since.  But the Arabella ’s been at sea these four months, and her bottom’s too foul for the speed we’re needing.”

Wolverstone hooked his thumbs into his broad leather belt, and from his great height looked down sardonically upon Lord Julian, tall man though his lordship was.  “So that you’re like to be in yet another sea-fight afore ye’ve done wi’ ships, my lord.”

“That’s a point we were just arguing,” said Blood.  “For I hold that we’re in no case to fight against such odds.”