Breton's face was grave. He came
to report that they had sprung a leak between wind and water, the
consequence of damage sustained from one of the Dutchman's shots. In
alarm Levasseur went off with him. The leakage was not serious so long
as the weather kept fine; but should a storm overtake them it might
speedily become so. A man was slung overboard to make a partial stoppage
with a sail-cloth, and the pumps were got to work.

Ahead of them a low cloud showed on the horizon, which Cahusac
pronounced one of the northernmost of the Virgin Islands.

"We must run for shelter there, and careen her," said Levasseur. "I
do not trust this oppressive heat. A storm may catch us before we make
land."

"A storm or something else," said Cahusac grimly. "Have you noticed
that?" He pointed away to starboard.

Levasseur looked, and caught his breath. Two ships that at the distance
seemed of considerable burden were heading towards them some five miles
away.

"If they follow us what is to happen?" demanded Cahusac.

"We'll fight whether we're in case to do so or not," swore Levasseur.

"Counsels of despair." Cahusac was contemptuous. To mark it he spat upon
the deck. "This comes of going to sea with a lovesick madman. Now, keep
your temper, Captain, for the hands will be at the end of theirs if we
have trouble as a result of this Dutchman business."

For the remainder of that day Levasseur's thoughts were of anything but
love. He remained on deck, his eyes now upon the land, now upon those
two slowly gaining ships. To run for the open could avail him nothing,
and in his leaky condition would provide an additional danger. He must
stand at bay and fight. And then, towards evening, when within three
miles of shore and when he was about to give the order to strip
for battle, he almost fainted from relief to hear a voice from the
crow's-nest above announce that the larger of the two ships was the
Arabella. Her companion was presumably a prize.

But the pessimism of Cahusac abated nothing.

"That is but the lesser evil," he growled. "What will Blood say about
this Dutchman?"

"Let him say what he pleases." Levasseur laughed in the immensity of his
relief.

"And what about the children of the Governor of Tortuga?"

"He must not know."

"He'll come to know in the end."

"Aye, but by then, morbleu, the matter will be settled. I shall have
made my peace with the Governor. I tell you I know the way to compel
Ogeron to come to