g the
hand-rail he gazed towards St. Malo with troubled eyes.

After a few minutes Curwen advanced and touched him lightly on the
arm.

Captain Jack turned slowly to look at him: his face was a little pale
and his jaw set. But the mate, who had served under him since the day
he first stepped upon the old _St. Nicholas_, a gallant, fair-faced
lad (and who knew "every turn of him," as he would have expressed it
himself), saw that he had taken his decision; and he stepped back
satisfied, ready to shape his course for the near harbour, or for the
Pacific Ocean, or back to Scarthey itself at his master's bidding.

"Call the men up," said the captain, "they have earned their bounty
and they shall have it. Though their skipper is a poorer man than he
thought to be, by this fool's work yonder, his good lads shall not
suffer. Tush, man, that's the order--not a word. And after that,
Curwen, let her make for the sea again, northwards."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE LIGHT AGAIN--THE LADY AND THE CARGO

Does not all the blood within me
Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,
As the spring to meet the sunshine!

_Hiawatha._

"Curwen," said Captain Jack, suddenly--the two stood together at the
helm on the afternoon of the same day, and the _Peregrine_ was once
more alone, a speck upon the waste of waters, "I have made up my mind
to return to Scarthey."

The mate wagged his bushy eyebrows and shifted his hand on the helm.
"Ay, ay, sir," he said, after just an instant's pause.

"I would not run you and the men into unnecessary danger, that you may
be sure of; but the fact is, Curwen, I'm in a devil of a fix all
round. There's no use hiding it from you. And, all things considered,
to land the lady and the cargo at the lighthouse itself, gives me as
fair a chance of getting out of it as any plan I can think of. The
cargo's not all my own and it's a valuable one, I daresay you have
guessed as much; and it's not the kind we want revenue men to pry
into. I could not unload elsewhere that I know of, without creating
suspicion. As to storing it elsewhere, it's out of the question.
Scarthey's the place, though it's a damned risky one just now! But
we've run many a risk together in our day, have we not?"

"Ay, sir; who's afraid?"

"Then there's the lady," lowering his voice; "she's Lady Landale, my
friend's wife, the wife of the best friend ever man had. Ay, you
remember him, I doubt not--the gentleman seaman of the