What I will? What I will, Joan? Do you mean it?"

"Yes. Pshaw! Your duty? Don't I know how the Ministers and the officers
have done their duty at Quebec? It's all nonsense. You must make your
choice once for all now."

Lafarge stood a moment thinking. "Joan, I'll do it. I'd go hunting in
hell at your bidding. But see. Everything's changed. I couldn't fight
against you, but I can fight for you. All must be open now. You've said
there's no contraband. Well, I'll tell Mr. Martin so, but I'll tell him
also that you've only a crew of two--"

"Of three, now!"

"Of three! I will do my duty in that, then resign and come over to you,
if I can."

"If you can? You mean that they may fire on you?"

"I can't tell what they may do. But I must deal fair."

Joan's face was grave. "Very well, I will wait for you here."

"They might hit you."

"But no. They can't hit a wall. Go on, my dear." They saluted, and, as
Lafarge turned away, Joan said, with a little mocking laugh, "Tell him
that he must surrender, or we'll sink him before supper."

Lafarge nodded, and drew away quickly towards the tug. His interview
with Mr. Martin was brief, and he had tendered his resignation, though
it was disgracefully informal, and was over the side of the boat again
and rowing quickly away before his chief recovered his breath. Then Mr.
Martin got a large courage. He called on his men to fire when Lafarge
was about two hundred and fifty feet from the tug. The shots rattled
about him. He turned round coolly and called out, "Coward-we'll sink you
before supper!"

A minute afterwards there came another shot, and an oar dropped from
his hand. But now Joan was rowing rapidly towards him, and presently was
alongside.

"Quick, jump inhere," she said. He did so, and she rowed on quickly.
Tarboe did not understand, but now his blood was up, and as another
volley sent bullets dropping around the two he gave the Ninety-Nine to
the wind, and she came bearing down smartly to them. In a few moments
they were safely on board, and Joan explained. Tarboe grasped Lafarge's
unmaimed hand,--the other Joan was caring for,--and swore that fighting
was the only thing left now.

Mr. Martin had said the same, but when he saw the Ninety-Nine
determined, menacing, and coming on, he became again uncertain, and
presently gave orders to make for the lighthouse on the opposite side of
the river. He could get over first, for the Ninety-Nine would not have
the wind so muc