I recognized the voice as belonging to Bothwell.
"If you've hurt a hair of his head I'll hold you personally to account. Unless you want me to board your schooner you will at once release Mr. Sedgwick and Miss Wallace."
"Miss Wallace has practically ceased to exist," the Russian drawled.
"What do you mean?"
"I shall have the honor to send you cards, captain. Miss Wallace has become my wife."
I stuck my head out of the porthole and shouted. "That's a lie, Sam. You're just in time to save her."
"Are you a prisoner, Jack?"
"Yes. So is she. In the next cabin." Some one stepped quickly across the deck and leaned over the rail above me. Bothwell's dark face looked down into mine. He leveled a revolver at my head and fired just as I drew back.
That shot served as a signal for the attack. Bullets sang back and forth, some from the schooner, others from the boats of my friends.
As for the battle, I saw from my porthole only the edge of it, and that but for a few moments as a boat full of men swept forward. Someone was firing with a rifle, while the others put their backs to the oars.