lights. "I think it would be better
for you to stay here," she advised. "The captain is such a beast that he
might be rude if you showed on deck. He might hide you away somewhere
till the danger was past," she added, remembering the ghastly inferno on
the lower deck, to which Leslie Chermside had been relegated.

"Then how shall we know what happens?"

"I will keep you posted," Nettle rejoined eagerly. "It doesn't matter
about me. Anyhow, I'll stay on deck till I'm stopped, and run in here
now and again. What a lark it would be if that was the _Snipe_, with my
Ned aboard. I was reading a tale the other day where they hung a pirate
at his own yard-arm, which is a thing I don't believe they've got on
this ugly up-and-down steamer. But I'll bet a pair of Grigg and Winter's
best one-and-eleven-penny white kids that Mr. Edward Parsons, of his
Majesty's destroyer _Snipe_, will find something to hang Captain Simon
Brant on if that's him out yonder."

She skipped out on to the deck without waiting for an answer, and her
stout heart pulsed with joy as she saw the lean, venomous hull of the
warship much nearer than when she had entered the saloon. Her appearance
was the signal for a violent flow of language from Brant, who had
confided the secret of his mummery to the mate. Cheeseman, with his
tongue in his cheek, played up to the lead of the apelike skipper,
simulating the wildest terror of the oncoming destroyer.

Nettle leaned over the rail not far from the saloon door, into which she
darted at brief intervals with the latest news. Each time she was able
to improve on her last report--that she could make out objects on the
deck of the pursuer clearer than before. But the highwater mark of
ecstasy was reached when Nettle ran in with the announcement that it was
indeed the _Snipe_ which was after them, that she had recognized her
Ned, and had received an answer to her signals.

"They'll be alongside in a few minutes," she cheered Violet. "Brant and
Cheeseman are tearing their hair with rage."

But disaster followed swift on her triumph. Running back to the rail,
she saw to her dismay that the distance between the two vessels had
increased, and that the reason was not far to seek. The _Snipe_ was
steaming as fast as ever; but the _Cobra_ was tearing through the calm
sea at the pace of an express train. During Nettle's absence in the
saloon Brant had rung down to the engineers to let loose the full power
of the mighty turbi