r. Martin.

"Good; send an officer," answered Tarboe.

A moment after, Lafarge was in a boat rowing over to meet another
boat rowed by Joan alone, who, dressed in a suit of Bissonnette's, had
prevailed on her father to let her go.

The two boats nearing each other, Joan stood up, saluting, and Lafarge
did the same.

"Good-day, m'sieu'," said Joan, with assumed brusqueness, mischief
lurking about her mouth. "What do you want?"

"Good-day, monsieur; I did not expect to confer with you."

"M'sieu'," said Joan, with well-acted dignity, "if you prefer to confer
with the captain or Mr. Bissonnette, whom I believe you know in the
matter of a pail, and--"

"No, no; pardon me, monsieur," said Lafarge more eagerly than was good
for the play, "I am glad to confer with you, you will understand--you
will understand--" He paused.

"What will I understand?"

"You will understand that I understand!" Lafarge waved meaningly towards
the Ninety-Nine, but it had no effect at all. Joan would not give the
game over into his hands.

"That sounds like a charade or a puzzle game. We are gentlemen on a
serious errand, aren't we?"

"Yes," answered Lafarge, "perfect gentlemen on a perfectly serious
errand!"

"Very well, m'sieu'. Have you come to surrender?" The splendid impudence
of the thing stunned Lafarge, but he said: "I suppose one or the other
ought to surrender; and naturally," he added with slow point, "it should
be the weaker."

"Very well. Our captain is willing to consider conditions. You came down
on us to take us--a quiet craft sailing in free waters. You attack us
without cause. We summon all hands, and you run. We follow, you ask
for truce. It is granted. We are not hard--no. We only want our rights.
Admit them; we'll make surrender easy, and the matter is over."

Lafarge gasped. She was forcing his hand. She would not understand his
oblique suggestions. He saw only one way now, and that was to meet her,
boast for boast.

"I haven't come to surrender," he said, "but to demand."

"M'sieu'," Joan said grandly, "there's nothing more to say. Carry word
to your captain that we'll overhaul him by sundown, and sink him before
supper."

Lafarge burst out laughing.

"Well, by the Lord, but you're a swashbuckler, Joan--"

"M'sieu'--"

"Oh, nonsense! I tell you, nonsense! Let's have over with this, my girl.
You're the cleverest woman on the continent, but there's a limit to
everything. Here, tell me now, and if you