me must have been planned with deadly deliberation, and with the
resources of vast wealth behind it. The vessel chosen for such a lawless
errand would certainly be of high speed, and would avoid the regular
steamer tracks. The little _Snipe_, for all her thirty-knot engines,
might well be outpaced by the craft bought or chartered by Bhagwan
Singh's agent; but before he could put that vital question to the test
he would have to find her--no easy matter in the crowded waters of the
Channel, when he had no description of her to guide him, and he was
entirely in the dark as to the course she would steer.

But in all things pertaining to his profession the young commander was
astute beyond his years, and, having once decided to treat the
Maharajah's yacht as a hostile ship, he made his calculations as
thoroughly as if his promotion depended on stopping her. As soon as he
stepped aboard his destroyer he routed out of their bunks the two men on
whose co-operation he would have to rely, one being the only other
commissioned officer, Second-Lieutenant Ellison, and the other the petty
officer who was acting as gunner, a smart young fellow by name Parsons.

Having tersely explained to them the situation, and at greater length
demonstrated that his would be the sole responsibility for what he
proposed to do, he succeeded in rousing their enthusiasm, and from that
moment he was loyally served by both. The three promptly constituted
themselves a council of war in the poky little mess-room, and Ned
Parsons was ready with some valuable advice.

"You'll pardon me, sir," he said with a friendly grin, "but if it was my
girl instead of yours who was on that yacht I shouldn't fumble for my
tactics--not for a single minute."

"It isn't my girl--only a friend of my girl," Reggie corrected him. "But
no matter as to that. What would the tactics be, Parsons? You were
always a helpful chap."

"Well, you see, sir, I'm thinking, as every man on the ship will be, how
to get you out of this without blame," replied the acting gunner. "I
don't know the lady that these blackguards are making off with, but if
it was my Nettle there'd be only one way to it. I'd lay the _Snipe_ as
close as may be to the yacht and trust the girl to do the rest. She'd
holler for help, or clout the helmsman over the head, or do something
that would justify us in interfering, and in asking questions
afterwards. But there! she's a fair cough-drop, though only a draper's
as