at the same moment threw out her hands, defensively or for support, and
clutched the arm and shoulder of the man who had assailed Armitage. He
had driven a knife at John Armitage, and was poising himself for another
attempt when Shirley seized his arm. As he drew back a fold of his cloak
still lay in Shirley's grasp, and she gave a sharp little cry as the
figure, with a quick jerk, released the cloak and slipped away into the
shadows. A moment later the lights were restored, and she saw Armitage
regarding ruefully a long slit in the left arm of his ulster.

"Are you hurt? What has happened?" she demanded.

"It must have been a sea-serpent," he replied, laughing.

The deck officer regarded them curiously as they blinked in the glare of
light, and asked whether anything was wrong. Armitage turned the matter
off.

"I guess it was a sea-serpent," he said. "It bit a hole in my ulster, for
which I am not grateful." Then in a lower tone to Shirley: "That was
certainly a strange proceeding. I am sorry you were startled; and I am
under greatest obligations to you, Miss Claiborne. Why, you actually
pulled the fellow away!"

"Oh, no," she returned lightly, but still breathing hard; "it was the
instinct of self-preservation. I was unsteady on my feet for a moment,
and sought something to take hold of. That pirate was the nearest thing,
and I caught hold of his cloak; I'm sure it was a cloak, and that makes
me sure he was a human villain of some sort. He didn't feel in the least
like a sea-serpent. But some one tried to injure you--it is no jesting
matter--"