"Is there no way of compromising?" begged Dalny, his evil face paling, "In exchange for your life, Monsieur Darrin, can you not offer us a chance for escape?"
"One brave man down!" laughed Ensign Dave. "That was spoken like the coward that you are, Dalny."
Darrin turned to break down the door. He knew that he was taking chances, for the sham Prince might be a man cast in a braver mould than Dalny, and, in his desperation, might shoot at the back that Dave so recklessly presented.
At the third lunge from Darrin's sturdy shoulder, the door snapped open at the lock. The young naval officer stepped out into the social hall. There was no sign of the steward.
"Seaman here!" Dave bawled lustily. He was obliged to repeat the summons twice before a hearty "Aye, aye, sir!" was heard in the distance.
Then Jack Runkle showed his jovial face at the top of the companionway. Catching sight of his officer, Runkle bounded down the steps and came up on a run, saluting.
"Runkle, go to the corporal of marines and ask him to send two men here. Then stand by."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Runkle was off like a shot on his errand and soon returned with two marines.
"Now, men," Dave directed, pointing to the doors, "batter them down. That door, first."