"It is very much against the principles of maritime law, as I read it," the lieutenant answered coolly, "for you to blow to pieces, with a concealed gun, a tug which simply came up to ask you questions. Now be a sensible man, Captain Hooge. I shall have your ship searched from top to bottom. If the young lady is found, you will have to stand your trial in an English court on an extremely serious charge."
"If there is any young lady on board," the captain declared sullenly, "it is without my knowledge. I will go and see the purser."
"We will come, too," the lieutenant said dryly.
They passed down a little companion-way. The captain opened the door of a small stateroom and talked for some time in Norwegian to a bearded and spectacled man. The latter, after some time, turned towards the two men and spoke in English.
"There is a young lady here. She must have boarded us by accident. We were on the point of starting, and we could not land her. Come this way."
They followed the man down a long gloomy passage. He knocked at the door of a stateroom at the end of it. A faint voice answered. The door was thrown open. Henriette, white and eager, stood shrinking back against the wall. There was a rush of cold air into the place.
"Aaron!" she exclaimed in blank astonishment. "Aaron Rodd!"
Words failed her altogether. It seemed too wonderful. She peered into his face, shook him by the shoulders, and finally, almost collapsed in his arms.
"It's all right, Henriette," he cried, his own voice shaking. "You're quite safe."
"But where did you come from? How did you get here?" she gasped.