"Your husband."
"Jim!" Leah started forward, grasping the arms of her chair.
"Huh!" grunted Strange. "I thought you gilded bummers were allays lords an' ladies t' one another."
"Jim!" she repeated blankly. "Jim!"
"You bet. Kidnappin' wos th' word I used, an' kidnappin' it is. Thet there Berrin', your husband, sailin' under false colours, come along with me to Buenos Ayres--there's no denying thet. But"--here the freebooter winked significantly--"he didn't git set ashore there. Oh no, not much, you bet. I gummed on t' him as m' ace till I landed stakes. He don't mind, bless y'--likes the life wonderful. We've bin gavortin' round Pacific waters fur months, till the dollars ran low. Then I brought the barkey nor'ard with him under hatches, and naow"--he stretched out a huge paw--"y' kin pass along thet ten thousand."
Her brain was working so hard that she scarcely heard half the speech. At the back of it she began to see possibilities. "My husband is in England, then?"
"Within reach, anyhow, and with my first mate hangin' on t' him. Maybe the barkey anchors in a French port. Might be Spanish fur choice, if y' like--there's no knowin'. But he's within hail, same as them coppers of yours. The ace, ma'am, the ace. Y' might put in a day arskin' me why I let him go at ten thousand dollars. Th' hull shoot is worth heaps an' heaps more."
Leah watched his face closely. "Worth five thousand pounds, perhaps?"
"Well," he drawled, equally watchful; "I shouldn't mind goin' nap on that, all things being on th' square. Naow if----"
"Wait! Wait, I tell you!" She clasped her hands across her forehead and paced the room with slow steps, which did not betray the nervous hurry of her overwrought brain.