“Yield me up that lady instantly, fellow!” cried Sir Amyas, with his sword half drawn.

“And who are you, I should like to know,” returned Karen, coolly, “swaggering at an honest man taking his freight and passengers aboard?”

“I’ll soon show you!”

“Hush, sir,” said Green, who had caught sight of pistols and cutlasses, “let me speak a moment.  Look you here, skipper, this young gentleman and lady have right on their side.  This is her sister, and he is her husband.  They are people of condition, as you see.”

“All’s one to me on the broad seas.”

“That may be,” said Green, “but you see you can’t weigh anchor these three hours or more; and what’s to hinder the young captain here from swearing against you before a magistrate, and getting your vessel searched, eh?”

“I’ve no objection to hear reason if I’m spoke to reasonable,” said Karen, sulkily; “but I’ll not be bullied like a highwayman, when I’ve my consignment regularly made out, and the freight down in hand, square.”

“You may keep your accursed passage-money and welcome,” cried Sir Amyas, “so you’ll only give me my wife!”

“Show him the certificate,” whispered Betty.

Sir Amyas had it ready, and he read it loud enough for all on the Thames to hear.  Karen gave a sneering little laugh.  “What’s that to me?  My passenger here has her berth taken in the name of Ann Davis.”

“Like enough,” said Loveday, “but you remember me, captain, and I swear that this poor young lady is what his Honour Sir Amyas say.  He is a generous young gentleman, and will make it up to you if you are at any loss in the matter.”

“A hundred times over!” exclaimed Amyas hotly.

“Hardly that,” said Karen.  “Van Draagen might have been good for a round hundred if he’d been pleased with the commission.”

“I’ll give you and order—­” began Sir Amyas.

“What have you got about you, sir?” interrupted Karen.  “I fancy hard cash better than your orders.”

The youth pulled out his purse.  There was only a guinea or two and some silver.  “One does not go out to parade with much money about one,” he said, with a trembling endeavour for a smile, “but if you would send up to my quarters in Whitehall Barracks—–­”

“Never mind, sir,” said Karen, graciously.  “I see you are in earnest, and I’ll put up with the loss rather than stand in the light of a couple of true lovers.  Here, Jack, lend a hand, and we’ll hoist the young woman over.  She’s quiet enough, thanks to Mother Darkness.”

The sudden change in tone might perhaps be owing to the skipper’s attention having been called by a sign from one of his men to a boat coming up from Woolwich, rowed by men of the Royal navy, who were certain to take part with an officer; but Sir Amyas and Betty were only intent on receiving the inanimate form wrapped up in its mantle.  What a meeting it was for Betty, and yet what joy to have her at all!