As Matterson angrily glared from one of us to another, the group separated and, turning, I saw our guest standing silently apart.
"Captain North," I said slowly, "this lady—"
He did not wait for me to finish.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," he cried. "You shall have my own stateroom. I should have spoken before, but that sail troubles me."
Thereupon others turned to study the sail, which was bearing down on us, although still some miles away; but I continued to watch the guest whose presence there in the Adventure seemed so strange as almost to savor of magic, as she tried to thank Gideon North.
"Don't say a word," he cried. "Not a word! Remember this: I've a wife and daughters of my own, and I wish they were on board to make things comfortable for you. But all we can do, I'm afraid, is give you a chance to make yourself comfortable. Our cabin boy's gone. He went ashore with those damnable villains yonder and never came back."
"A little boy?" she suddenly asked.
"Aye."
"A wicked little rascal?" A strangely roguish light flashed across her face and she smiled as if in spite of herself.
Gideon North's chuckle grew into a wide grin. "Ma'am, that's Willie MacDougald to a T. But what do you know of him?"