rk, and there
was something terrible in the contrast between that look of housewifely
satisfaction and the job upon which it was bestowed. Many an evil sight
have I seen, but never, as I think, anything so evil as this sight of
that beautiful face smiling over the edge of that hideous thing, the
living radiant visage above that effigy of death. The black flag covered
her like a pall, ominously.

'Well,' she said, 'is it well done?'

She spoke in a low tone, but I could hear what she said quite well where
I crouched.

Cornelys Jensen nodded his head approvingly.

The red-bearded man spoke. 'Time it was done, too, and that we should be
setting to work. I am sick of this waiting.'

'Patience, my good fellow, patience,' said Cornelys Jensen. 'All in good
time. Trust Cornelys Jensen to know the time to act. The fiddle is
tuned, friend. I shall know when to play the jig.'

'My feet ache for the dancing,' the red beard growled. Barbara laughed;
dropping her hands, she drew the black flag close to her, so that it
fell all in folds about her body and draped her from throat to toe. Her
beauty laughed triumphantly at the pair from its sable setting.

'Put that thing away,' said Jensen. 'You have done your work bravely,
Mistress Hatchett, and Bill may be well proud of you.'

He clapped his hand as he spoke on Red Beard's shoulder, and the fool's
face flushed with pleasure.

Barbara laughed, and slowly folded the flag up square by square into a
small compass. Jensen took it from her when she had finished and put it
into a locker, which he closed with a key that he took from his pocket.

I began to find my position rather perilous. It was high time for me to
take my departure, before the conspirators became aware of my
whereabouts. It would not trouble either of the men a jot to ram a knife
into my ribs and to jerk me overboard ere the life was out of me. And
then what would become of my dear ones, and of all the honest folk on
board, with no one to warn them of their peril?

I drew back very cautiously, creeping along the passage and holding my
breath, stepping as gingerly as a cat on eggs, for fear of making any
sound that should betray me. As I crept along I kept asking myself what
I was to do. The first course that came to my mind was to go to Captain
Marmaduke and tell him of what I had seen. But then, again, I did not
know, and he did not know, how many there were of crew or company tarred
with Jensen's brush, and