A slight haze hung over the water, so that sea and sky were merged in a film of brooding grey. Through this, looking strangely flimsy and unreal by reason of the mist, could be seen a large cargo-steamer of about five thousand tons. She was steaming in the opposite direction to the Hawk at something like ten knots, and from her triatic stay fluttered a hoist of signal-flags indicating the question: "What ship are you?"

"What shall I answer, sir?" inquired Mr. Dykes of Calamity.

"'British steamer Hawk. Singapore for London.'"

The signal was hoisted and the reply came: "British steamer Ann, Rio for Hongkong." At the same time the red ensign was hoisted at the stern.

"You say that when you first saw her she was flying the German flag?" Calamity inquired of Mr. Dykes.

"Yes, sir. I think she must have just passed another German ship, for the ensign was being hauled down when I sighted her."

"H'm, she was German a few minutes ago; now she's British. Signal her to stop, Mr. Dykes."

The signal was duly hoisted, but the steamer paid no attention and proceeded on her course, while from her funnel arose a thick cloud of black smoke, showing that the stokers were firing up. Although the skipper of the Ann might resent being called upon to stop by what looked like another merchant vessel, this sudden attempt to accelerate speed, coupled with an unusual freedom in the use of national flags, was suspicious to say the least of it.

"Put a shot through her funnel, Mr. Dykes," said Calamity.

With his own hands, the mate sighted the quick-firer on the bridge and then nodded to the boatswain, who was also chief gunner. Next moment a sheet of flame leapt from the muzzle, there was a terrific roar, and a shell struck, not the Ann's funnel, but the supporting guys and passed through a ventilating cowl above the engine-room. Despite this unequivocal hint, the steamer did not stop, and the foam under her stern showed that she was putting on speed.

"Aim for the chart-room and make a better shot of it," said Calamity.

Mr. Dykes, greatly chagrined at his first shot having gone wide of its mark, again sighted the gun. Meanwhile the Captain was bringing round the Hawk in the arc of a circle to get her in the wake of the retreating steamer.

Bang!

This time the mate had better luck, his second shot smashing through the chart-room and completely wrecking it.

"That ought to bring them to reason," he remarked complacently.

It did. Before the thin veil of smoke had drifted away a man was seen on the Ann's stern, frantically calling up the Hawk in the semaphore code. A man on the privateer's bridge answered and then the other started to flap his flags about.

"Don't fire, stopping," read the message.

The foam under the stranger's stern was subsiding and an arrow of white steam shot into the air out of her exhaust-pipe. Already the distance between the two vessels was rapidly diminishing and soon they were within hailing distance. The skipper of the Ann was the first to avail himself of this, for, making a funnel of his hands, he demanded to know what the sanguinary blazes was meant by this hold-up.

"I demand to see your papers," bellowed Calamity.

The other appeared to execute a sort of complicated war-dance on the bridge, wildly waving his clenched fists above his head. No words came for a second or more, and then a burst of raw, pungent, and kaleidoscopic profanity hurtled across the intervening space, evoking by its wonderful variety the admiration even of the Hawk's crew.

"Blimey!" murmured Smith in an awed tone, "it's a treat to 'ear a bloke handle cuss-words like that."

Even Mr. Dykes, who rather prided himself on his mastery of the refreshing art of invective, was moved to wonder. Indeed, he made a mental note of several vituperative combinations whose force and originality impressed him.

When, at last, the master of the Ann paused, presumably for want of breath, the crew of the Hawk looked expectantly towards Calamity. Would he be able to rise to the occasion and wither his opponent by a scorching blast of even deadlier profanity, or would he humiliate them by using the commonplace swear-words of everyday life? He did neither.

"I'm going to board you!" he shouted. "Make one attempt to hinder me and you go to the bottom."

His words, backed by the guns which were trained on the Ann, brought an immediate reply:

"Come aboard if you must, but for the love of God don't sink me."

"Fizzled out like a damp squib," muttered Smith.

"I guess he's played his long suit," remarked the mate, who also felt disappointed at the ignoble collapse of the Ann's skipper after such brilliant promise.

A boat was quickly lowered from the Hawk, and the Captain, before getting into it, gave Mr. Dykes certain instructions.

"And remember," he added, "if you see any sign of trickery put a shot under her water-line amidships."

"Very good, sir," answered the mate.

A few minutes afterwards Calamity had reached the deck of the Ann, where he was met by the Captain and the first mate.

"I demand an explanation of this outrage!" blustered the former. "Are you aware that you are committing piracy? that——"

Calamity cut him short.

"I know perfectly well what I'm doing, or I shouldn't be here. Your papers, Captain."

"By what right do you ask for my papers?" demanded the other, who showed signs of again becoming truculent.

"That," answered Calamity shortly, pointing to the Hawk's guns.

"This is outrageous, and I shall——"

"Your papers, Captain," interrupted Calamity peremptorily.

There was something in his voice which made the Ann's skipper realise that argument was not only useless, but probably dangerous as well. He shrugged his shoulders and led the way to his cabin, where he invited Calamity to sit down. Then he unlocked a drawer and took from it a metal deed-box which he placed on the table.

"Where the devil are the keys?" he muttered, and, stooping over the box, began to fumble in his pockets.

Suddenly stepping back, he raised his head, and, as he did so, gave a sharp exclamation of mingled rage and fear. He was staring right into the barrel of a nasty-looking automatic pistol which Calamity was pointing directly at him.

"I've seen that game played before," said Calamity with a quiet smile. "Hand me your pistol; butt first, please."

And the discomfited skipper of the Ann reluctantly handed over a fully loaded revolver, which he had been in the act of drawing from his pocket when he chanced to look down the barrel of the automatic pistol.

"Thanks," said Calamity as he took it. "Now for those papers, if you'll be so kind."

Without a word, the other unlocked the box and handed over a bundle of documents. Calamity glanced over them hastily and then smiled.

"Your other papers, Captain," he said.

"Other papers! What other papers d'you mean? They're all there."

"I think not. If you wish to avoid trouble, you will fetch out your alternative papers at once. You didn't hoist the German ensign without having something to justify it."

"I swear that——"

"Don't," broke in Calamity. "I can do all the swearing I want for myself."

"But I can't give you what I haven't got!"

Calamity leant across the table till his face almost touched the other's.

"The papers," he said in a low, menacing voice. "Understand me?"

The other did, apparently, for, with a muttered curse, he unlocked one of the table drawers and took therefrom a second bundle of documents.

"Take them and be damned to you," he said, flinging them on the table.

Calamity picked up the papers, and, as he glanced at them there was a look of grim satisfaction on his face.

"Will you be good enough to explain to me, Captain Noel, how it is that you happen to have two different sets of papers?" he inquired. "The first state that the Ann is a British ship, owned by Masters and Ready of Sunderland, and that she has cleared for Hongkong from Rio. The second batch declare her to be a German vessel, cleared for Bangkok from Bremen. They give the owner as——"

He stopped abruptly as he glanced again at the paper he was holding. A look of incredulous astonishment appeared on his face, but it was almost immediately succeeded by one of the keenest satisfaction.

"——Isaac Solomon of Singapore," he concluded.

The other made no answer, and for a moment or two Calamity regarded him thoughtfully.

"It's a clever trick and how you managed to obtain these two sets of papers I don't pretend to guess," he went on. "It may interest you, however, to know that the esteemed Mr. Isaac Solomon is a dear—one might almost say, expensive—friend of mine, and no doubt he will let me into the secret later on. What is your cargo, Captain?"

"Sand ballast and Portland cement," growled the other.

"No doubt the cargo you took out was rather more interesting. But what's this?" he added, holding up a document heavily sealed.

"I don't know."

"Still, it would be as well to find out," and without hesitation he calmly broke the seals.

To the astonishment of them both, the document was absolutely blank; to all appearances a virgin sheet of paper.

"H'm, this is strange," murmured Calamity. "It is not usual to enclose and seal a blank sheet of paper with the ship's documents. Have you got a candle?"

Captain Noel produced one from a shelf and lit it. He seemed as eager to find out the meaning of this mysterious enclosure as Calamity himself. The latter held the paper in front of the flame and, as he had expected, writing began to appear. When the whole communication became legible he spread the document out on the table and commenced to read.

It was, in effect, a letter from a German official to Mr. Isaac Solomon of Singapore, informing him that his last cargo had reached its first destination, a neutral port, without mishap. This was followed by some very valuable advice concerning the manner in which another cargo—referred to as "Eastern merchandise"—might be delivered at the same port. There were also other matters of even greater interest, but Calamity decided to study these at a more convenient time.

"I have only one more question to ask you, Captain," he said. "What was the exact nature of this 'Eastern merchandise'?"

"Copper and nickel," answered the other.

"A very profitable cargo, I should imagine; yet not as profitable as this one little piece of paper should prove to me—eh, Captain Noel?"

"I'll take my oath I knew nothing of this," answered the latter eagerly.

"You knew about the cargo, at any rate. However, that's a matter which doesn't concern me. I shall hand you back your German clearance papers, but the English ones, together with this interesting little document, I shall keep."

"You—you're going to keep the English papers?" faltered the other.

"Yes."

"But, good God, man, I shall be captured! I can't reach a port with German papers. I'm at the mercy of the first British cruiser I meet!"

"Exactly. And dear Isaac Solomon, bless his gentle heart, will have his ship confiscated. Still, I'll wager he'd sooner the authorities took his ship than this piece of paper."

Calamity rose to his feet, and, leaving the German papers on the table, put the others in his pocket.

"I'll wish you good-day, Captain Noel," he said. "I may capture a few prizes during my cruise, but I can never hope to get another like this. If you should meet Mr. Solomon during the next week or so kindly remember me to him. Captain Calamity; he'll not have forgotten the name."

He left the steamer, and, returning to the Hawk, told Mr. Dykes to continue the original course.

"Very good, sir," answered the mate. "I suppose," he added, "there weren't nothin' worth freezin' on to aboard that packet?"

Calamity made no answer, and, going to his cabin, locked himself in. Meanwhile, to the surprise and disappointment of the crew, the Ann was permitted to proceed on her way and the Hawk resumed her course.

"Don't savee what it means, don't you?" Jasper Skelt was saying in the foc'sle. "It means this, my jolly sailor-boys. The skipper's helped himself to the money-chest on that blooming barge and he's going to stick to it. Yes, my festive deck-wallopers, all the prize-money and plunder that comes your way you'll be able to stick in a hollow tooth."

A low, angry murmur went up, and then a man, bolder than the rest, rose to his feet.

"If I b'lieved you, Jas Skelt, I'd 'ave a go at that un'oly swine aft, and chance it."

"Aye, aye," growled some others. "We ain't goin' to be done out of our rights."

"Then you stand by me," answered Skelt, "and I'll see that you get 'em."

"We'll stand by you, mate," said the first speaker. "And, what's more, we'll make you skipper of the 'Awk. Ain't that so?" he added, turning to the others.

There was a low murmur of approval.