him in irons."

When he had gone, the girl raised her eyes to mine. "He is the
German of whom I spoke," she said. "He is Baron von Schoenvorts."

I merely inclined my head. She had loved him! I wondered if in
her heart of hearts she did not love him yet. Immediately I
became insanely jealous. I hated Baron Friedrich von Schoenvorts
with such utter intensity that the emotion thrilled me with a
species of exaltation.

But I didn't have much chance to enjoy my hatred then, for
almost immediately the lookout poked his face over the hatchway
and bawled down that there was smoke on the horizon, dead ahead.
Immediately I went on deck to investigate, and Bradley came with me.

"If she's friendly," he said, "we'll speak her. If she's not,
we'll sink her--eh, captain?"

"Yes, lieutenant," I replied, and it was his turn to smile.

We hoisted the Union Jack and remained on deck, asking Bradley
to go below and assign to each member of the crew his duty,
placing one Englishman with a pistol beside each German.

"Half speed ahead," I commanded.

More rapidly now we closed the distance between ourselves and the
stranger, until I could plainly see the red ensign of the British
merchant marine. My heart swelled with pride at the thought that