“Isn’t it kind of dangerous, Harvey?” suggested the younger pirate.

“My name isn’t Harvey.  I’m Captain Kidd, and you must never speak to me without saluting,—­so.”

His self-importance caused him to move around more lively than ever, while the boat shipped water afresh.

“But isn’t it dangerous, Har—­, Captain Kidd?”

The captain again looked very self-important.  “Pirates never think of danger.  See how near we are to the English brig.  Ha, ha, mate, the gold is ours.  Steady now, mate, she’s coming your way.  When we are once alongside of her, you make a dive for her, and pinion her until I can rush to your assistance.  Steady now.”

Nearer and nearer floated the English boat, unconscious of danger.  Perhaps the nature of the pirate craft was unsuspected.  It floated no black flag.

The younger pirate grew excited over the nearness of the prize.  She arose to her feet.  Surely, it was within grasp now.  Just as she was about to reach out for it, however, a wave took the English boat and started to carry it out of reach.

This made the younger pirate desperate.  She leaned far out over the water.  Suddenly, the commander cried out in fear: 

“Beth, don’t try.  It’s too far away.”

His warning came too late.  The younger pirate had already reached out for the English boat.  A wave at that moment struck the pirate craft, and swayed it to one side.  Over went the younger pirate into the water.

Fortunately, Beth got only a wetting.  Before she was really in the water, Harvey had her by the dress.  For a second or two, it seemed as if the boat would upset.  But presently a wet, unhappy little girl stood shivering beside Harvey.  Her teeth chattered from fright more than from cold.

“What’ll mamma say?”

“I’ll tell her it was all my fault.”

“How good you are,” and Beth edged up nearer to him.

“Stop dripping water all over me and come on.”

They hurried towards the house, and circled around to the back entrance to escape Beth’s mother.

The washerwoman, at the tubs on the kitchen porch, and Maggie were the only ones to see poor Beth.  Maggie raised her arms skyward.  “Laws a massa”—­then she broke into hearty laughter.  “I ’lows, Penny,”—­the name of the washerwoman,—­“hyere’s moh washin’ fur yo’.  How yo’ ’specs it’d be if we’d jes’ run chile an’ all frugh de wringer?”

Beth was too humiliated to say a word, and rushed up-stairs the back way.

When the affair was reported to Mrs. Davenport, she considered the situation well before seeing her little daughter.

Beth was getting to be a terrible tomboy, she thought, but she was growing strong physically with the outdoor life.  And even while she did sometimes fall into danger, the same thing often occurred when mothers watched a child’s every breath.  Mrs. Davenport decided that the wiser way was to educate a child to be self-reliant and fearless, trusting to God’s guardianship and protection.