. Leave Partial in
the boat. Gently now."

Swiftly but silently, we swept in under the lee of the _Belle Helene_.
The landing ladder had not been drawn up after Davidson's departure,
so that the boarding party had easy work ahead.

I sprang upon the deck, my footfalls deadened by the rubber matting
which lay along all the decks. I turned. Above the rail behind me rose
the face of Lafitte, masked. The long blade of a Malay kris was in his
teeth. In one hand he held a pistol, using the other as he climbed. He
scraped out of his belt as he came aboard I know not how many pistols
which fell into the water, but still, God wot! had abundant remaining.
Nor did L'Olonnois, close behind him, his Samurai sword between his
teeth, present a spectacle less awesome. I breathed a sudden prayer
that these might meet with no resistance, else I could only fear the
direst consequences!

I made a quick motion with my hand, even as I sprang forward in search
of Peterson. The dull thud of the engine-room hatch, an instant later,
assured me that Lafitte had performed the most important part of the
work assigned to him. Forsooth, ere long, he had done all his work as
laid out for him. It chanced that, as he sprang to the doors of the
forward saloon, he met John, the Chinaman. Reaching for him with one
hand, he closed the doors with the other, with such promptness and
precision that the cue of John was caught in the door and he was
imprisoned below, where he howled in much grief and perturbation,
unable to escape without the sacrifice of his cue.

Meantime, I found Peterson, my old skipper, much as I had expected. He
was a middle-aged, placid, well-poised man, a pessimist in speech, but
a bold man in soul. He was fond of an evening pipe, and he sat now
smoking and looking down the illuminated lane made by our
search-light. He turned toward me, a sudden curiosity upon his face as
he saw that I was a stranger on the boat, though not a stranger to
himself.

"Sir--Mr. Harry--" he began, half rising.

I reached out my left hand and caught him by the shoulder. In my
right hand I held a pistol, and this, somewhat gaily, I waved before
Peterson's face. "Halt," said I, "or I will blow you out of the
water"--a phrase which I had found sufficient in earlier
circumstances.

The old man smiled pleasantly and in mock fashion put up both his
hands. Had it been anyone else, he probably would have knocked me
down. "All right, Mr. Harry," said he, "you