t angrily and met the Princess' gaze. She
seemed about to fly out in a tempest, but as suddenly checked herself,
leaving only a little frown on her forehead to witness to her
annoyance. She had been engaged in a little triumph that suited her
vanity, and she had been called away from it. I really do not think
there was anything more than that in it--not then, at any rate. She
rose.

"You are a tyrant, my princess," she said, and nodding sweetly to
Barraclough and myself, left the gallery.

Princess Alix followed, her face pale and still. More than ever was I
convinced that, whatever feelings the lady had inspired in the Prince,
his sister was not party to them.

CHAPTER XII

IN THE SALOON

I think it was from that hour that I began to get on badly with
Barraclough. It was in his power as acting captain, no doubt, to remit
certain precautions, but the remission of those precautions was not to
the credit of his head. He had been beguiled by the Siren, and she,
doubtless, by her vanity or her freakishness. When she had gone he
turned on me.

"What the devil do you want interfering, Phillimore?" he demanded. "I'm
in charge here."

There never was a man so insensate. I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, it
was not my interference that was successful," I said curtly.

He walked abruptly to the window and opened it wider I could not be
mistaken as to the bulky form that blocked it.

"Nice music, captain," said Holgate's wheezing voice.

"I'll give you just three seconds to quit, or I'll put a hole through
you, you infernal rascal," said Barraclough savagely, raising his
revolver.

"Oh, we're in no hurry," said the mutineer cheerfully, and moved away.

I suppose that some gleam of reason prevented Barraclough from firing.
He barred the windows afresh, and came back to me.

"Why the mischief doesn't he attack?" he exclaimed peevishly.

I did not know, but I was near guessing just then. In point of fact, I
did guess that afternoon. I paid my usual visit to the forecastle and
the hold. Legrand played the same farce with remarkable persistence,
and I was no longer puzzled by him. He was biding his time, like
Holgate, and his reasons were obvious. Holgate's dawned on me just
then--but some of them only, as you shall see during the progress of
this narrative.

He maintained his friendliness, inquired civilly after our health, and
how the ladies bore the seclusion.

"I wish I could make it easier for them, but