was written,
or had he the faintest idea that the small mark on the corner of the
wrapper meant that it was to be translated at once and dispatched
post-haste to King William.

For, indeed, the Captain was now playing not merely a double, but a
triple and perhaps a quadruple game. He was not only playing for
William against James, and for James against William, but for the
Earl against both, and for himself above all. For the moment he
wished to get to Harwich with power over the two old men who (as he
conceived it) were defrauding him of his privileges; and to obtain
full possession of those privileges he must stand well with William,
who at present suspected him.

What better proof could he offer that his journey had been all in his
master's interest than by engaging the six galleys at Dunkirk in an
attack upon Harwich, and forewarning the King of his design? Or how
could the Earl have a better chance of clearing himself of the King's
suspicions than by receiving this warning and passing it on to the
King?

Unfortunately this accomplished schemer omitted to take account of
three accidents, for the simple reason that he could not have
anticipated them: first, the two old men whom he meant to terrify at
Harwich were at that moment in Holland; and, second, the son, in
whose name he meant to terrify them, slept every night within a foot
of his head, a galley-slave, disguised beyond recognition and filled
with a just resentment. Number three will be mentioned hereafter.

The little fishing-smack sailed out of Dunkirk that evening, an hour
after sunset.

During the next three days Captain Salt worked hard. Sufficient
stores were laid in to last for a week's cruise. The slaves who
worked on shore were brought on board. The galleys' beaks were
tested, the guns examined, oars and rigging carefully overhauled.
A fresh supply of ammunition was drawn from the citadel and the
fighting crew of each vessel increased by fifty men, with a few Swiss
artillerymen from the batteries of Bourgogne, Auguenois and Santerre.
In all this M. de la Pailletine lent the readiest aid. He had
postponed his animosity to the day when they should return to
harbour; and to the casual eye he and the Englishman were excellent
friends.

By the night of August 22nd all was ready.

At nine o'clock next morning the six galleys started in solemn
procession past the forts and out into the open sea, which was smooth
as glass. A light but ste