HT 155

XXI. RAFTS 163

XXII. WE LOSE CORNELYS JENSEN 168

XXIII. WE GET TO THE ISLAND 179

XXIV. FAIR ISLAND 190

XXV. THE STORY FROM THE SEA 205

XXVI. THE BUSINESS BEGINS 214

XXVII. AN ILL TALE 232

XXVIII. WE DEFY JENSEN 241

XXIX. THE ATTACK AT LAST 249

XXX. OUR FLAG COMES DOWN 261

XXXI. A PIECE OF DIPLOMACY 268

XXXII. THE SEA GIVES UP ITS QUICK 280

XXXIII. THE LAST OF THE SHIP 290

MARJORIE

CHAPTER I

MY APOLOGY

What I have written may seem to some, who have never tossed an hour
on salt water, nor, indeed, tramped far afield on dry land, to be
astounding, and well-nigh beyond belief. But it is all true none the
less, though I found it easier to live through than to set down. I
believe that nothing is harder than to tell a plain tale plainly and
with precision. Twenty times since I began this narrative I have damned
ink and paper heartily after the swearing fashion of the sea, and have
wished myself back again in my perils rather than have to write about
them.

I was born in Sendennis, in Sussex, and my earliest memories are full
of the sound and colour and smell of the sea. It was above all things
my parents' wish that I should live a landsman's life. But I was mad
for the sea from the first days that I can call to mind.

My parents were people of substance in a way--did well with a mercer's
shop in the Main Street, and were much looked up to by their neighbours.
My mother always would have it that I came through my father of gentle
lineage. Indeed, the name I bore, the name of Crowninshield, was not the
kind of name that one associates usually with a mercer's business and
with the path in life along which my father and mother walked with
content. There certainly had been old families of Crowninshields in
Sussex and elsewhere, and some of them had bustled in the big wars.
There may be plenty of Crowninshields still left for aught I know or
care, for I never troubled my head much about my possible ancestors who
carried on a field gules an Eastern crown or