"Some one coming along this way, sir."
Barraclough sprang to his side. "By Heaven, it's Holgate, damn him," he said, "with a flag of truce."
"Open that door," said the Prince evenly.
Grant turned the key and drew the bolt, and the door fell ajar. Holgate's big form was stationed before it, and he waved a flag.
"A truce, gentlemen," he said wheezily.
I looked at the Prince and Barraclough for the answer, and to my amazement saw that the former had his revolver at the level. His finger was on the trigger. I leaped forward and struck it up, and the bullet buried itself in the walls of the cabin.
"What do you mean, sir?" he thundered, turning on me savagely. "How dare you?"
"Mr. Morland," said I. "You spoke of discipline a little ago. Well, how do you keep it?"
"This is my ship," he said furiously.
"Yes," said I, "and it is in the charge of Sir John Barraclough here, who will tell you, perhaps, that it is against the laws of equity, not to say common sense, to fire on a flag of truce."