It occurred to Mainwaring that the powerful armament he had

beheld was rather extreme to be used merely as a preventive. He
smoked for a while in silence and then he suddenly asked the

other point-blank whether, if it came to blows with such a one as
Captain Scarfield, would he make a fight of it?

The Quaker trading captain regarded him for a while in silence.
His look, it seemed to Mainwaring, appeared to be dubitative as

to how far he dared to be frank. "Friend James," he said at
last, "I may as well acknowledge that my officers and crew are

somewhat worldly. Of a truth they do not hold the same testimony
as I. I am inclined to think that if it came to the point of a

broil with those men of iniquity, my individual voice cast for
peace would not be sufficient to keep my crew from meeting

violence with violence. As for myself, thee knows who I am and
what is my testimony in these matters."

Mainwaring made no comment as to the extremely questionable
manner in which the Quaker proposed to beat the devil about the

stump. Presently he asked his second question:
"And might I inquire," he said, "what you are doing here and why

you find it necessary to come at all into such a wicked,
dangerous place as this?"

"Indeed, I knew thee would ask that question of me," said the
Friend, "and I will be entirely frank with thee. These men of

blood are, after all, but human beings, and as human beings they
need food. I have at present upon this vesselupward of two

hundred and fifty barrels of flour which will bring a higher
price here than anywhere else in the West Indies. To be entirely

frank with thee, I will tell thee that I was engaged in making a
bargain for the sale of the greater part of my merchandise when

the news of thy approach drove away my best customer."
Mainwaring sat for a while in smoking silence. What the other

had told him explained many things he had not before understood.
It explained why Captain Cooper got almost as much for his flour

and corn meal now that peace had been declared as he had obtained
when the war and the blockade were in full swing. It explained

why he had been so strong a defender of Captain Scarfield and the
pirates that afternoon in the garden. Meantime, what was to be

done? Eleazer confessed openly that he dealt with the pirates.
What now was his--Mainwaring's--duty in the case? Was the cargo

of the Eliza Cooper contraband and subject to confiscation? And
then another question framed itself in his mind: Who was this

customer whom his approach had driven away?
As though he had formulated the inquiry into speech the other

began directly to speak of it. "I know," he said, "that in a
moment thee will ask me who was this customer of whom I have just

now spoken. I have no desire to conceal his name from thee. It
was the man who is known as Captain Jack or Captain John

Scarfield."
Mainwaring fairly started from his seat. "The devil you say!" he

cried. "And how long has it been," he asked, "since he left you?"
The Quaker skipper carefully refilled his pipe, which be had by

now smoked out. "I would judge," he said, "that it is a matter
of four or five hours since news was brought overland by means of

swift runners of thy approach. Immediately the man of wickedness
disappeared." Here Eleazer set the bowl of his pipe to the

candle flame and began puffing out voluminous clouds of smoke.
"I would have thee understand, James Mainwaring," he resumed,

"that I am no friend of this wicked and sinful man. His safety
is nothing to me. It is only a question of buying upon his part

and of selling upon mine. If it is any satisfaction to thee I
will heartily promise to bring thee news if I hear anything of

the man of Belial. I may furthermore say that I think it is
likely thee will have news more or less directly of him within

the space of a day. If this should happen, however, thee will
have to do thy own fighting without help from me, for I am no man

of combat nor of blood and will take no hand in it either way."
It struck Mainwaring that the words contained some meaning that

did not appear upon the surface. This significance struck him as
so ambiguous that when he went aboard the Yankee he confided as

much of his suspicions as he saw fit to his second in command,
Lieutenant Underwood. As night descended he had a double watch

set and had everything prepared to repel any attack or surprise
that might be attempted.

III
Nighttime in the tropics descends with a surprisingrapidity. At

one moment the earth is shining with the brightness of the
twilight; the next, as it were, all things are suddenly swallowed

into a gulf of darkness. The particular night of which this story
treats was not entirely clear; the time of year was about the

approach of the rainy season, and the tepid, tropical clouds
added obscurity to the darkness of the sky, so that the night

fell with even more startling quickness than usual. The blackness
was very dense. Now and then a group of drifting stars swam out

of a rift in the vapors, but the night was curiously silent and
of a velvety darkness.

As the obscurity had deepened, Mainwaring had ordered lanthorns
to be lighted and slung to the shrouds and to the stays, and the

faint yellow of their illumination lighted the level white of the
snug little war vessel, gleaming here and there in a starlike

spark upon the brass trimmings and causing the rows of cannons to
assume curiouslygigantic proportions.

For some reason Mainwaring was possessed by a strange, uneasy
feeling. He walked restlessly up and down the deck for a time,

and then, still full of anxieties for he knew not what, went into
his cabin to finish writing up his log for the day. He

unstrapped his cutlass and laid it upon the table, lighted his
pipe at the lanthorn and was about preparing to lay aside his

coat when word was brought to him that the captain of the trading
schooner was come alongside and had some private information to

communicate to him.
Mainwaring surmised in an instant that the trader's visit related

somehow to news of Captain Scarfield, and as immediately, in the
relief of something positive to face, all of his feeling of

restlessness vanished like a shadow of mist. He gave orders that
Captain Cooper should be immediately shown into the cabin, and in

a few moments the tall, angular form of the Quaker skipper
appeared in the narrow, lanthorn-lighted space.

Mainwaring at once saw that his visitor was strangely agitated
and disturbed. He had taken off his hat, and shining beads of

perspiration had gathered and stood clustered upon his forehead.
He did not reply to Mainwaring's greeting; he did not, indeed,

seem to hear it; but he came directly forward to the table and
stood leaning with one hand upon the open log book in which the

lieutenant had just been writing. Mainwaring had reseated himself
at the head of the table, and the tall figure of the skipper

stood looking down at him as from a considerable height.
"James Mainwaring," he said, "I promised thee to report if I had

news of the pirate. Is thee ready now to hear my news?"
There was something so strange in his agitation that it began to

infect Mainwaring with a feeling somewhat akin to that which
appeared to disturb his visitor. "I know not what you mean,

sir!" he cried, "by asking if I care to hear your news. At this
moment I would rather have news of that scoundrel than to have

anything I know of in the world."
"Thou would? Thou would?" cried the other, with mounting

agitation. "Is thee in such haste to meet him as all that? Very
well; very well, then. Suppose I could bring thee face to face

with him--what then? Hey? Hey? Face to face with him, James
Mainwaring!"

The thought instantly flashed into Mainwaring's mind that the