"Well, what then, Sir?" answered the Pixie defiantly.
"Then your life shall be spared for a kindness done in an hour of great need to those whom we love."
The captive cast a keen, inquiring glance into True's face; then answered coolly, "Humph! that's a temptation to sail under false colors that most of my kin would thank'ee for. But I don't take kindly to lying, and don't ask for life at Brownie hands. Do your worst—and as soon as you please. My name's not Raft."
Again the Brownie spears were poised, and again True interfered to save the captive. "Beat those bushes along the shore," he cried; "we shall carry our prisoner to camp." Presently the sailors returned and reported that they had found a yacht at anchor under the willows just beyond.
"Aye; 'The Fringe' is worked in white silk upon one of the sails."
True turned to his captive and asked, "Are you the captain of that yacht?"
"No, Sir," was the stout answer, "the Captain's looking for some messmates down yonder at the foot of the island."
True started. "Haste! Mark the spot where the yacht lies. Bring on the prisoner—away, away!"
The Brownie camp was soon reached. Square and his squad left their boat-building to stare at the new arrival, and overwhelmed their friends with wondering questions. Faith and Sophia left their tent to learn the cause of the commotion. The crowd of sailors around the scouts and their prisoner fell back, bringing the Pixie into full view. Sophia uttered a cry and ran forward.