Mr. Sims permitted himself to smile.
"I told them you were a man of sense," he said. "Is it not odd that only you and I should have imagination and ingenuity? I knew you would see when the game is over. My compliments, Captain Shelton. You deserve to have done better."
"Of course," said my father, with a slow nod of assent, "I see when the game is over."
"I knew you would be reasonable," said Mr. Sims. "When it is finished, you and I stop playing, do we not? I am sorry we were not on the same side, but I have been commissioned to take you, captain, for a little man whom you and I both knew back in Paris. I have a dozen men aboard now, who will get us to the harbor. You are a prisoner of France, as you have doubtless guessed. We shall all be trans-shipped to Mr. Jason Hill's schooner, which has been waiting for you; and now you may go below."
Still staring thoughtfully before him, my father rested his chin in the palm of his hand.
"I remember you now," he said. "And may I add it is a pleasure to have met you? It is still a pleasure, much as I resent being taken on board a ship I own."
Mr. Sims bowed ironically.
"And now, Captain, the document, if you please, unless you care to be searched."
I thought my father had not heard, for he still looked quite blandly at the lantern.
"Would you mind telling me," he inquired, "what became of my crew? You bribed them, I suppose."