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“And afterwards?”

“What to-morrow may bring forth.”

Lafarge became very serious. “I must go back. Mr. Martin is signalling, and your father is calling. I do not understand, but you’re the one woman in the world for my money, and I’m ready to stand by that and leave the customs to-morrow if need be.”

Joan’s eyes blazed, her cheek was afire. “Leave it to-day. Leave it now. Yes; that’s my one condition. If you want me, and you say you do, come aboard the Ninety-Nine, and for to-day be one of us-to-morrow what you will.”

“What I will? What I will, Joan? Do you mean it?”

“Yes. Pshaw! Your duty? Don’t I know how the Ministers and the officers have done their duty at Quebec? It’s all nonsense. You must make your choice once for all now.”

Lafarge stood a moment thinking. “Joan, I’ll do it. I’d go hunting in hell at your bidding. But see. Everything’s changed. I couldn’t fight against you, but I can fight for you. All must be open now. You’ve said there’s no contraband. Well, I’ll tell Mr. Martin so, but I’ll tell him also that you’ve only a crew of two–“

“Of three, now!”

“Of three! I will do my duty in that, then resign and come over to you, if I can.”

“If you can? You mean that they may fire on you?”

“I can’t tell what they may do. But I must deal fair.”

Joan’s face was grave. “Very well, I will wait for you here.”

“They might hit you.”

“But no. They can’t hit a wall. Go on, my dear.” They saluted, and, as Lafarge turned away, Joan said, with a little mocking laugh, “Tell him that he must surrender, or we’ll sink him before supper.”

Lafarge nodded, and drew away quickly towards the tug. His interview with Mr. Martin was brief, and he had tendered his resignation, though it was disgracefully informal, and was over the side of the boat again and rowing quickly away before his chief recovered his breath. Then Mr. Martin got a large courage. He called on his men to fire when Lafarge was about two hundred and fifty feet from the tug. The shots rattled about him. He turned round coolly and called out, “Coward-we’ll sink you before supper!”

A minute afterwards there came another shot, and an oar dropped from his hand. But now Joan was rowing rapidly towards him, and presently was alongside.

“Quick, jump inhere,” she said. He did so, and she rowed on quickly. Tarboe did not understand, but now his blood was up, and as another volley sent bullets dropping around the two he gave the Ninety-Nine to the wind, and she came bearing down smartly to them. In a few moments they were safely on board, and Joan explained. Tarboe grasped Lafarge’s unmaimed hand,–the other Joan was caring for,–and swore that fighting was the only thing left now.

Mr. Martin had said the same, but when he saw the Ninety-Nine determined, menacing, and coming on, he became again uncertain, and presently gave orders to make for the lighthouse on the opposite side of the river. He could get over first, for the Ninety-Nine would not have the wind so much in her favour, and there entrench himself; for even yet Bissonnette amply multiplied was in his mind–Lafarge had not explained that away. He was in the neighbourhood of some sunken rocks of which he and his man at the wheel did not know accurately, and in making what he thought was a clear channel he took a rock with great force, for they were going full steam ahead. Then came confusion, and in getting out the one boat it was swamped and a man nearly drowned. Meanwhile the tug was fast sinking.

While they were throwing off their clothes, the Ninety-Nine came down, and stood off. On one hand was the enemy, on the other the water, with the shore half a mile distant.

“Do you surrender?” called out Tarboe.