A chorus of "No's!" was the answer, but the men on the Swallow's deck only looked at each other and smiled defiance.
The menace of rifle and revolver was too much for the mob.
It was not quite drunk enough to rush to death, and at the suggestion of one of its number the rest adjourned to the wine shops once more.
The woman's figure remained on the dock.
Belle Demona's form was seen in the starlight as she faced the detective.
"I missed you this morning," she exclaimed, her voice having the old-time, silvery ring. "I fired at your heart, Josiah Broadbrim, but your horse saved it. Now I have you at my mercy!"
She finished by throwing up her hand, and the detective looked again into the muzzle of the deadly revolver.
This time her hand did not quiver.
The men of the vessel seemed to lose nerve at the danger that threatened the man from across the sea.