“Ah!” said Levasseur, showing his teeth.  But his eyes, riveted upon that distant sail, were gloomily thoughtful.  Not for long.  The imagination and resource which Captain Blood had detected in the fellow soon suggested a course.

Cursing in his soul, and even before the anchor was weighed, the association into which he had entered, he was already studying ways of evasion.  What Cahusac implied was true:  Blood would never suffer violence to be done in his presence to a Dutchman; but it might be done in his absence; and, being done, Blood must perforce condone it, since it would then be too late to protest.

Within the hour the Arabella and La Foudre were beating out to sea together.  Without understanding the change of plan involved, Captain Blood, nevertheless, accepted it, and weighed anchor before the appointed time upon perceiving his associate to do so.

All day the Dutch brig was in sight, though by evening she had dwindled to the merest speck on the northern horizon.  The course prescribed for Blood and Levasseur lay eastward along the northern shores of Hispaniola.  To that course the Arabella continued to hold steadily throughout the night.  When day broke again, she was alone.  La Foudre under cover of the darkness had struck away to The northeast with every rag of canvas on her yards.

Cahusac had attempted yet again to protest against this.

“The devil take you!” Levasseur had answered him.  “A ship’s a ship, be she Dutch or Spanish, and ships are our present need.  That will suffice for the men.”

His lieutenant said no more.  But from his glimpse of the letter, knowing that a girl and not a ship was his captain’s real objective, he gloomily shook his head as he rolled away on his bowed legs to give the necessary orders.

Dawn found La Foudre close on the Dutchman’s heels, not a mile astern, and the sight of her very evidently flustered the Jongvrow.  No doubt mademoiselle’s brother recognizing Levasseur’s ship would be responsible for the Dutch uneasiness.  They saw the Jongvrow crowding canvas in a futile endeavour to outsail them, whereupon they stood off to starboard and raced on until they were in a position whence they could send a warning shot across her bow.  The Jongvrow veered, showed them her rudder, and opened fire with her stern chasers.  The small shot went whistling through La Foudre’s shrouds with some slight damage to her canvas.  Followed a brief running fight in the course of which the Dutchman let fly a broadside.

Five minutes after that they were board and board, the Jongvrow held tight in the clutches of La Foudre’s grapnels, and the buccaneers pouring noisily into her waist.

The Dutchman’s master, purple in the face, stood forward to beard the pirate, followed closely by an elegant, pale-faced young gentleman in whom Levasseur recognized his brother-in-law elect.

“Captain Levasseur, this is an outrage for which you shall be made to answer.  What do you seek aboard my ship?”