rpose, nothing could turn it aside. Vince's plans were
well-digested; he knew what he wanted to do, he knew how he was going to
do it.

In the first place he would capture the man Bonnet; all the details of
the action were arranged to that end; then, with Kate's father as his
prisoner, he would be master of the situation.

There was nothing noble about this craftily elaborated design; but,
then, there was nothing noble about Captain Vince. He was a strong hater
and a strong lover, and whether he hated or loved, nothing, good or bad,
must stand in his way. With the life or death, the misery or the
happiness of the father in his hands, he knew that he need but beckon to
the daughter. She might come slowly, but she would come. She was a grand
woman, but she was a woman; she might resist the warm plea of love, but
she could not resist the cold commands of that cruel figure of death who
stood behind the lover.

Captain Bonnet was returning from his visit to the New England coast,
picking up bits of profit here and there as fortune befell him, when
Captain Vince first heard that the Revenge had gone northward. The news
was circumstantial and straightforward, and was not to be doubted. Vince
raged upon his quarter-deck when he found out how he had been wasting
time. Northward now was pointed the bow of the Badger, and the vengeful
Vince felt as if his prey was already in his hands. If Bonnet had sailed
up the Atlantic coast he was bound to sail down again. It might be a
long cruise, there might be impatient waitings at the mouths of coves
and rivers where the pirates were accustomed to take refuge or refit,
but the light of the eyes of Kate Bonnet were worth the longest pursuit
or the most impatient waiting.

So, steadily sailed the corvette Badger up the long Atlantic coast, and
she passed the capes of the Delaware while Captain Bonnet was examining
the queer pulpit in the little bay-side town where his ship had stopped
to take in water.

At the various ports of the northern coast where the Revenge had sailed
back and forth outside, the Badger boldly entered, and the tales she
heard soon turned her back again to sail southward down the long
Atlantic coast. But the heart of Christopher Vince never failed. The
vision of Kate Bonnet as he had seen her, standing with glorious eyes
denouncing him; as he should see her when, with bowed head and proffered
hand, she came to him; as all should see her when, in her clear-cut
beau