"That would be a pity," he said gravely. "My conscience would be uneasy. My cabin-boy suffers from fever from time to time, but the sea air does wonders for him. You ought to try it." And bowing he placed the jewels in his pocket, and turned away from her.

"Lord Godolphin I believe," he said, standing before his lordship. "Last time we met I relieved you of your wig. That also was the fault of a wager. This time, perhaps, I might take something a little more substantial." He reached for the decoration on Godolphin's breast, a ribbon and a star, and cut it away with his sword.

"Your weapon also, I regret to say, is something I cannot leave upon your person," and Godolphin's sheath clattered upon the ground. The Frenchman bowed again, and passed on to Philip Rashleigh. "Good evening, sir," he said, "you are looking a trifle less warm than when I saw you last. I must thank you for the gift of the Merry Fortune. She is a splendid vessel. You would not recognise her now, I swear. They have given her a new rig on my side of the channel, and a coat of paint into the bargain. Your sword, sir, if you please. And what have you in your pockets?"

The veins stood out in Rashleigh's forehead, and his breath came quick and fast. "You'll pay for this, God damn you," he said.

"Possibly," said the Frenchman, "but in the meanwhile, it is you who are paying," and he emptied Rashleigh's sovereigns into a bag tied at his waist.

Slowly he made the circuit of the table, and each guest in turn lost the weapon at his side, and the money from his pockets, with the rings from his fingers, and the pin from his cravat. And as the Frenchman strolled round the table, whistling a tune under his breath, he would lean, now and again, to the bowl of fruit, and pluck a grape, and once, while waiting for the stout guest from Bodmin to divest himself of the many rings on his fingers, swollen with gout, he sat on the edge of the table, amongst the silver and the dishes, and poured himself a glass of wine from a carafe.

"You have a good cellar, Sir Harry," he said. "I should advise you to keep this a year or so longer; it is a wine that will improve. I had some half-dozen bottles of the same vintage in my own house in Brittany, and like a fool I drank it all too soon."

"Death and damnation," spluttered Harry, "of all the confounded…"

"Don't worry," smiled the Frenchman, "I could have the key of the cellar from William if I wanted it, but I would not deprive you of the fun of drinking this in four or five years' time." He scratched his ear, and glanced down at the ring on Harry's finger. "That is a very fine emerald," he said. For answer Harry tore it from his finger and threw it at the Frenchman's face, but he caught it in his hands, and held it to the light.

"Not a single flaw," he said, "which is rare in an emerald. However, I will not take it. On second thoughts, Sir Harry, I have robbed you enough." And bowing, he handed the ring back to Dona's husband. "And now, gentlemen," he said, "I have a last request to make. It is, perhaps, a little crude, but under the circumstances, very necessary. You see, I wish to return to my ship, and to have you join your fellows in the woods and give chase to me would, I fear, somewhat prejudice my plans. In short, I must ask you to take off your breeches and hand them over to my men here. Likewise your stockings, and your shoes." One and all they stared at him in rage, and "By heaven, no," shouted Eustick, "have you not made game of us enough?"

"I am sorry," smiled the Frenchman, "but really I must insist. The night is warm, you know, and yesterday was midsummer. Lady St. Columb, perhaps you would be good enough to go into the salon? These gentlemen will not care to undress themselves before you in public, however much they may desire to do so in private."

And he held open the door for her to pass, and looking over his shoulder to the guests he called, "I will give you five minutes, but no more. Pierre Blanc, Jules, Luc, William - keep a close watch upon the gentlemen, and while they are disrobing, her ladyship and I will discuss the affairs of the day."

He followed her into the salon and shut the door.

"And you," he said, "with your proud smile, standing at the head of the table, shall I make you do the same, my cabin-boy?" and he threw his sword on the chair, and laughed, and held out his arms. She went to him, and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Why are you so reckless?" she asked, "so shameless, and so wicked? Do you know that the woods and the hills are black with men?"

"Yes," he said.

"Why did you come here then?"

"Because, as in all my undertakings, the most hazardous performance is usually the most successful. Besides, I had not kissed you for nearly twenty-four hours." And he bent his head, and took her face in his hands.

"What did you think," she said, "when I did not come for breakfast?"

"There was little time to think," he answered, "because I was woken just after sunrise by Pierre Blanc, to tell me La Mouette was aground, and taking in water. We have had the devil's own time with her, as you can imagine. And then, later on, when we were all stripped to the waist and working on her, William came down with your news."

"But you did not know then, what was being planned for - tonight?"

"No, but I soon had a shrewd suspicion. One of my men saw a figure on the beach, up the river, and another in the hills opposite. And we knew then, that we were working against time. Even so, they had not found La Mouette. They were guarding the river and the woods, but they had not come down to the creek." "And then William came the second time?" "Yes, between five and six this evening. He warned me of your party here at Navron, and I decided then what I should do. I told him of course, but that cut he received from the fellow in the woods on his way back to you did not help much."

"I kept thinking of him, during supper, lying wounded and fainting on my bed."

"Yes, but he dragged himself to the window, all the same, to admit us, just as we had planned. Your servants, by the way, are all shut up in your game larder, tied back-to-back, like the fellows we found on the Merry Fortune. Do you want your trinkets back again?" He felt in his pocket for her jewels, but she shook her head.

"You had better keep them," she said, "to remember me by."

He said nothing, but looked over her head, stroking her curls.

"La Mouette will sail within two hours, if all goes well," he said. "The patch in her side is rough, but it must hold until she reaches the French coast."

"What of the weather?" she asked.

"The wind is fair and steady enough. We should reach Brittany in eighteen hours or less."

Dona was silent, and he went on touching her hair. "I have no cabin-boy," he said. "Do you know of a likely lad who would sail with me?"

She looked at him then, but he was not smiling any more, and he moved away from her, and picked up his sword.

"I shall have to take William, I'm afraid," he said. "He has played his part at Navron, and your household will know him no longer. He has served you well, has he not?"

"Very well," she answered.

"If it were not for the scrap he had tonight with Eustick's man, I would have left him," he said, "but recognition would come swift and fast, and Eustick would have hanged him without scruple. Besides, I hardly think he would have stayed to serve your husband."

He glanced about the room, his eyes alighting for a foment on Harry's portrait, and then he walked to the long window, and flung it open, drawing back the curtains. "Do you remember the first night I supped with you?" he said, "and afterwards you stared into the fire, and I drew your picture. You were angry with me, were you not?"

"No," she said, "not angry. Only ashamed, because you guessed too much."

"I will tell you one thing," he said, "you will never make a fisherman. You are too impatient. You will keep getting tangled up in your line."

Someone knocked at the door, and "Yes?" he called in French, "have the gentlemen done what I commanded them?"

"They have, monsieur," answered William, through the door.

"Very well then. Tell Pierre Blanc to tie their hands behind their backs, and escort them to the bedrooms above. Close the doors upon them and turn the keys. They will not trouble us for two hours, which will give me the time we need."

"Very good, monsieur."

"And William?"

"Monsieur?"

"How is your arm?"

"A trifle painful, monsieur, but not seriously so."

"That is good. Because I want you to take her ladyship by carriage to that spit of sand three miles this side of Coverack."

"Yes, monsieur."

"And there await my further orders."

"I understand, monsieur."

She stared at him, puzzled, and he came and stood before her, his sword in his hand. "What are you going to do?" she said.

He waited a moment before he answered, and he was not smiling any more, and his eyes were dark.

"You remember how we talked together last night by the creek?"

"Yes," she said.

"And we agreed that it was impossible for a woman to escape, except for an hour and a day?"

"Yes."

"This morning," he said, "when I was working on the ship, and William brought me the news that you were alone no longer, I realised that our make-believe was over, and the creek was our sanctuary no more. From this time forward La Mouette must sail other waters, and find different hiding-places. And although she will be free, and the men on board her free, her master will remain captive."

"What do you mean?" said Dona.

"I mean that I am bound to you, even as you are bound to me. From the very first, I knew that it would be so. When I came here, in the winter, and lay upstairs in your room, my hands behind my head, and looked at your sullen portrait on the wall, I smiled to myself, and said, 'That - and none other.' And I waited, and I did nothing, for I knew that our time would come."

"What else?" she said.

"You, too," he said, "my careless indifferent Dona, so hard, so disillusioned, playing the boy in London with your husband and his friends, you guessed that somewhere, in heaven knew what country and what guise, there was someone who was part of your body and your brain, and that without him you were lost, a straw blown by the wind."

She went to him, and put her hands over his eyes.

"All that," she said, "all that you feel, I feel. Every thought, every wish, every changing mood. But it's too late, there is nothing we can do. You have told me so already."

"I told you so last night," he said, "when we had no cares, and we were together, and the morning was many hours away. At those times a man can afford to shrug his shoulders at the future, because he holds the present in his arms, and the very cruelty of the thought adds, in some desperate fashion, to the delight of the moment. And when a man makes love, my Dona, he escapes from the burden of that love, and from himself as well."

"Yes," she said, "I know that. I have always known it. But not every woman."

"No," he said, "not every woman." He took the bracelet from his pocket and clasped it on her wrist. "And so," he went on, "when the morning came and I saw the mist on the creek, and you were gone from my side, there came also, not disillusion, but realisation. I knew that escape, for me too, was impossible. I had become like a prisoner in chains, and the dungeon was deep."

She took his hand, and laid it against her cheek.

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