“He’s with us,” said another seaman, brandishing his sheath knife, and scowling fearfully.  “He’s our new captain.”

In confirmation of this the mate now appeared from below with an axe in his hand, and, approaching his captain, roughly ordered him below.

“I’ll defend this lady with my life,” cried Hezekiah, taking the handspike from Kate, and raising it above his head.

“Nobody’ll hurt a hair of her beautiful head,” said the mate, with a tender smile.

“Then I yield,” said the skipper, drawing himself up, and delivering the handspike with the air of a defeated admiral tendering his sword.

“Good,” said the mate briefly, as one of the men took it.

“What!” demanded Miss Rumbolt excitedly, “aren’t you going to fight them?  Here, give me the handspike.”

Before the mate could interfere, the sailor, with thoughtless obedience, handed it over, and Miss Rumbolt at once tried to knock him over the head.  Being thwarted in this design by the man taking flight, she lost her temper entirely, and bore down like a hurricane on the remaining members of the crew who were just approaching.

They scattered at once, and ran up the rigging like cats, and for a few moments the girl held the deck; then the mate crept up behind her, and with the air of a man whose job exactly suited him, clasped her tightly round the waist, while one of the seamen disarmed her.

“You must both go below till we’ve settled what to do with you,” said the mate, reluctantly releasing her.

With a wistful glance at the handspike, the girl walked to the cabin, followed slowly by the skipper.

“This is a bad business,” said the latter, shaking his head solemnly, as the indignant Miss Rumbolt seated herself.

“Don’t talk to me, you coward!” said the girl energetically.

The skipper started.

“I made three of ’em run,” said Miss Rumbolt, “and you did nothing.  You just stood still, and let them take the ship.  I’m ashamed of you.”

The skipper’s defence was interrupted by a hoarse voice shouting to them to come on deck, where they found the mutinous crew gathered aft round the mate.  The girl cast a look at the shore, which was now dim and indistinct, and turned somewhat pale as the serious nature of her position forced itself upon her.

“Lewis,” said the mate.

“Well,” growled the skipper.

“This ship’s going in the lace and brandy trade, and if so be as you’re sensible you can go with it as mate, d’ye hear?”

“An’ s’pose I do; what about the lady?” inquired the captain.

“You and the lady’ll have to get spliced,” said the mate sternly.  “Then there’ll be no tales told.  A Scotch marriage is as good as any, and we’ll just lay off and put you ashore, and you can get tied up as right as ninepence.”

“Marry a coward like that?” demanded Miss Rumbolt, with spirit; “not if I know it.  Why, I’d sooner marry that old man at the helm.”