Sedgwick, will you kindly step down-stairs and notify the ladies that the day is ours? Get me some water, Morgan, and I'll take a look at Mr. Yeager's head. Philips, find Jimmie. Alderson, will you keep guard for the present? You'd better get back to bed, Dugan. I want to say that each one of you deserves a medal. If the treasure is ever found I promise, on behalf of Miss Wallace, that every honest man shall share in it."
At this there was a second cheer and we scattered to obey orders.
When I knocked on the door of Miss Wallace's stateroom a shaky voice answered.
"Who is there?"
"It is I—Sedgwick."
The door opened. Evelyn, very pale, was standing before me with a little revolver in her hand. She wore a kind of kimono of some gray stuff, loose about the beautifully modeled throat, in which just now a pulse was beating fast. Sandals were on her feet, and from beneath the gown her toes peeped.
"What is it? Tell me," she breathed in a whisper, her finger on her lips.
I judged that her aunt had slept through the noise of the firing.
"They attacked us on the bridge again. We had the best of it."
"Is anybody—hurt?" she asked tremulously.
"Five of them have been killed or badly wounded. We lost Billie Blue, poor fellow."
"Dead?" her white lips framed.
"I'm afraid so."
"Nobody else?"
I hesitated.
"Little Jimmie is missing. We are afraid——"
Tears filled her eyes and brimmed over.
"Poor Jimmie!"
I'll not swear that the back of my eyes did not scorch with hot tears too. I thought of the likable little Arab, red-headed, freckled and homely, and I blamed myself bitterly that I had ever let him rejoin us at Los Angeles.
"He wouldn't have come if it hadn't been for me. I asked you to let him," the young woman reproached herself.
"It isn't your fault. You meant it for the best."
Of a sudden she turned half from me and leaned against the door-jamb, covering her face with her hands. She was sobbing very softly.
I put my arm across her shoulders and petted her awkwardly. Presently she crowded back the sobs and whispered brokenly, not to me, but as a relief to her surcharged feelings.
"This dreadful ship of death! This dreadful ship! Why did I ever lead true men to their deaths for that wicked treasure?"
I do not know how it happened, but in her wretchedness the girl swayed toward me ever so slightly. My arms went round her protectingly. For an instant her body came to me in sweet surrender, the soft curves of her supple figure relaxed in weariness. Then she pushed me from her gently.
"Not now—not now."
I faced a closed door, but as I went up the companionway with elastic heels my heart sang jubilantly.
Chapter XVII.
A Taste of the Inquisition
It could have been no more than five minutes after I left her that Evelyn followed me to the upper deck saloon. Yet in the interval her nimble fingers had found time to garb her in a simple blue princess dress she had found near to her hand.
Without looking at me she went straight to Blythe, who was sponging the wrist of Alderson.
"You'll let me help, won't you?" she asked, with such sweet simplicity that I fell fathoms deeper in love.
"Of course. You're our chief surgeon. Eh, Alderson?"
The sailor grinned. Though he was a little embarrassed he was grateful for the addition to the staff.
After they had finished I brought her water to wash her hands. For the first time since she had entered the room our gaze met.
Braver eyes no woman ever had, but the thick lashes fluttered down now and a wave of pink beat into her cheeks. Moved as she was by a touch of shy confusion, the oval of her face stirred delicately as if with the spirit of fire, she seemed a very blush rose, a creature of so fine a beauty as to stir a momentary fear.
But I knew her to be strong, even if slight, and abrim with health. When she walked away with that supple, feathered tread of hers, so firm and yet so light, the vitality of her physique reasserted itself.
"Some one slipping this way in the shadows, Captain Blythe," spoke up Morgan, who was on guard.
Sam had been reloading his revolver. At once he stepped to the door.
"Who goes there? Hands up! I have you covered. Move forward into the light. Oh, it's you, Smith! What do you want?"
"I've come to give myself up, sir. I'm sick of it. Very likely you won't believe me, sir, but I joined under compulsion to save my life. I didn't dare leave them so long as Captain Bothwell——"
"Mr. Bothwell," corrected Blythe sharply.
"Mr. Bothwell, sir, I meant. He watched me as if I were a prisoner."
"I think I noticed you on my bridge with a revolver in your hand," the Englishman told him dryly.
"Yes, sir. But I fired in the air, except once when I shot the fireman who was killing Mr. Sedgwick over the wheel."
I turned in astonishment to Blythe.
"That explains it. Some one certainly saved me. If you didn't it must have been Smith."
"That's one point to your credit," Blythe admitted. "So now you want to be an honest man?"
"I always have been at heart, sir. I had no chance to come before. They kept me unarmed except during the fighting."
His head bandaged with a blood-soaked bandanna, his face unshaven and bloodstained, Smith was a sorry enough sight. But his eye met the captain's fairly. I don't think it occurred to any of us seriously to doubt him.
Sam laughed grimly.
"You look the worse for the wars, my friend."
Smith put his hand to the bound head and looked at the captain reproachfully.
"Your cutlas did it at the pilot-house, sir."
"You should be more careful of the company you keep, my man."
"Yes, sir. I did try to slip away once, but they brought me back."
"Let me look at your head. Perhaps I can do something for it," Evelyn suggested to the sailor.
While
