“Annella Wilder!” gasped the captured girl, as she recognized the tall, lean, gray-haired old man whom she had watched at his supper.
“From what port?” asked the questioner.
“I don’t know, sir,” answered Annella, in perplexity.
“Where bound?”
“I do not understand you, sir.”
“Who’s your skipper?”
“Indeed I cannot tell you, sir.”
“Come along in then to the admiral! We’ll see if we can’t make you show your colors. We can’t have any piratical-looking crafts cruising about in our seas without overhauling their letters of marque! so I’ll just take you in tow and tug you into port, alongside of the admiral,” said the oddity, keeping a firm hold of his prize, and forcing her on through the back entrance into the house.
CHAPTER XII.
THE ANCHORAGE.
Some, indeed, have said that creeping,