FullReads

“But I’ve counted at least twenty men, all armed, and we’ve only five.”

“As you please, sir,” said Lafarge bluntly, angry at being tricked, but inwardly glad to be free of the business, for he pictured to himself that girl at the tiller–he had seen her as she went aft–in a police court at Quebec. Yet his instinct for war and his sense of duty impelled him to say: “Still, sir, fight!”

“No, no, Mr. Lafarge,” excitedly rejoined his chief. “I cannot risk it. We must go back for more men and bring along a Gatling. Slow down!” he called. Lafarge turned on his heel with an oath, and stood watching the Ninety-Nine.

“She’ll laugh at me till I die!” he said to himself presently, as the tug turned up stream and pointed for Quebec. “Well, I’m jiggered!” he added, as a cannon shot came ringing over the water after them. He was certain also that he heard loud laughter. No doubt he was right; for as the tug hurried on, Tarboe ran to Joan, hugged her like a bear, and roared till he ached. Then she paid out the sheet, they clapped on all sail, and travelled in the track of the enemy.

Tarboe’s spirit was roused. He was not disposed to let his enemy off on even such terms, so he now turned to Joan and said: “What say you to a chase of the gentleman?”

Joan was in a mood for such a dare-devil adventure. For three people, one of whom was a girl, to give chase to a well-manned, well-armed Government boat was too good a relish to be missed. Then, too, it had just occurred to her that a parley would be amusing, particularly if she and Lafarge were the truce-bearers. So she said: “That is very good.”

“Suppose they should turn and fight?” suggested Bissonnette.

“That’s true–here’s m’am’selle,” agreed Tarboe. “But, see,” said Joan. “If we chase them and call upon them to surrender–and after all, we can prove that we had nothing contraband–what a splendid game it’ll be!” Mischief flicked in her eyes.

“Good!” said Tarboe. “To-morrow I shall be a rich man, and then they’ll not dare to come again.”

So saying, he gave the sail to the wind, and away the Ninety-Nine went after the one ewe lamb of the Government.

Mr. Martin saw her coming, and gave word for all steam. It would be a pretty game, for the wind was in Tarboe’s favour, and the general advantage was not greatly with the tug. Mr. Martin was now anxious indeed to get out of the way of the smuggler. Lafarge made one restraining effort, then settled into an ironical mood. Yet a half-dozen times he was inclined to blurt out to Martin what he believed was the truth. A man, a boy, and a girl to bluff them that way! In his bones he felt that it was the girl who was behind this thing. Of one matter he was sure–they had no contraband stuff on board, or Tarboe would not have brought his daughter along. He could not understand the attitude, for Tarboe would scarcely have risked the thing out of mere bravado. Why not call a truce? Perhaps he could solve the problem. They were keeping a tolerably safe distance apart, and there was no great danger of the Ninety-Nine overhauling them even if it so willed; but Mr. Martin did not know that.

What he said to his chief had its effect, and soon there was a white flag flying on the tug. It was at once answered with a white handkerchief of Joan’s. Then the tug slowed up, the Ninety-Nine came on gaily, and at a good distance came up to the wind, and stood off.

“What do you want?” asked Tarboe through his speaking-tube.

“A parley,” called Mr. Martin.

“Good; send an officer,” answered Tarboe.

A moment after, Lafarge was in a boat rowing over to meet another boat rowed by Joan alone, who, dressed in a suit of Bissonnette’s, had prevailed on her father to let her go.