"Yes; legally my husband, although he had driven me from him by dissipation and neglect. I—I cannot tell you the wretched story now."
"Nor do I ask it," he hastened to assure her. "What is it, Mapes?"
A blue-jacket stood at the foot of the stairs, one hand lifted in salute.
"The Saline, sir, is alongside, and hailing us. The boatswain sent me, sir."
We followed the two on deck, and, after one glance about, I led her around the bulge of the cabin to the narrow deck space astern. The boat in which we had escaped had been hoisted into its davits, and we halted in its shadow. The sea was gently rolling in great crested waves, with no land visible except Cosmos Island. The most of our crew must have been busy forward, as only three or four hung over the port rail in idle curiosity. The two vessels moved side by side, separated by a narrow stretch of green water, a thin vapor of smoke visible. I could perceive the whiteness of the Saline's deck, and the group of officers on the bridge. The Captain, facing us, hollowed his hands.
"What have you to report, Mr. Hutton?"
"The vessel is in our possession, sir, and the crew under guard below."
"Any injuries?"
"None serious, sir."
"And the Captain—the half-breed Henley; did you get him?"